The Extravaganza.

This year the time-honoured custom of dividing the Carnival programme into two parts was not followed, the

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whole of the evening being devoted to the production of an extravaganza, more ambitious in its aim than any hitherto produced. The departure was justified by the well-merited success of the performance

Once more the large Town Hall was filled with an expectant audience—an audience which could sympathise with the student carnival spirit. The student Chorus first rendered (?) two capping songs, and then people settled themselves comfortably in their seats to view the extravanganza, "Boadicea."

While for the most part of a frankly farcical nature, the extravaganza had nevertheless an undercurrent of seriousness, critical of Britain's Colonising methods. It was probably due to this fact that the author decided on a rather melodramatic ending—an ending which, in our opinion, rather marred an otherwise excellent performance. The change from pure farce to deep tragedy was too sudden for the majority of the audience, which could scarcely be expected to take Boadicea's tragic death seriously.

Briefly, the story was as follows: Julius Caesar has landed in Britain, the people of which are awaiting instructions from their queen. In spite of the advice given her by the Chief Druid, Boadicea decides to attempt to conquer Caesar, not by giving battle to his forces, but by using her personal charm (!) to enslave him. Caesar, however, is proof against her wiles, and in the end rudely disillusions her by telling her bluntly that Britain is merely a Roman province, in fact has been so for three years, and that she is queen only in name. His former assurances of good will were merely diplomatic prevarications. The queen realises too late that the old Druid has been right, and the curtain falls as she is brought in to die after having been brutally flogged by the Roman soldiery. She was flogged. We saw the marks.

The brunt of the acting was borne by Messrs Leary, Rogers, and Broad. Mr. Leary, as the amorous Boadicea, was excellent. At times, however, his utterance became too rapid, and occasionally he spoke so low that his voice was audible only to the front rows. His "by-play" was very clever throughout, his interludes with Crassus being page 44 delightful. He was especially good in the "Maud Allen" dance, which the audience enthusiastically encored. Mr. Leary looked such a really delightful young hussy that one could not help wondering at Caesar. Mr. Rogers, as Crassus, "centurion and ragtime expert," was quite the hit of the evening. The character suitedits interpreter, who fairly revelled in the part. He proved that he could improvise, if necessary, and deserved the tribute of the green "floral bouquet" which was delicately thrown to him from the audience. Mr. Broad, as the Chief Druid, made more than any one else could have done out of a difficult and comparatively poor part. His voice carried well and his lines were all distinctly heard. He displayed histrionic talent of no mean order. Mr. Batten did fairly well as the prosy, rely-on-faith Pontifex; and Mr. Meldrum as Llewellan looked convincingly savage with his tremendous club; but he has not yet learned to modulate his voice. Mr. Ewart as Caesar was not sufficiently majestic, and his voice was not full and resonant enough. With the exception of the first three, the gestures of the actors were unconvincing and rather stilted.

It was unfortunate, but unavoidable, that the attention of the audience should have been drawn from the clever Bible-in-Schools' dialogue, by the laying of the table for the banquet.

One of the chief features of the performance was the chorus-singing which was really excellent. It was quite a change for an audience actually to hear the words of a chorus: the enunciation was so clear that the words could be easily heard well back in the circle. The combined singing was one of the things which helped to make the production a distinct success.

The "colouring" was beautiful. Possibly the best grouping was that of the banquet scene, with the Roman Soldiers in the background, though the final chorus with Romans and Britions coming forward alternately, was good. The m lung song of the Romans was also excellent.

Taken as a whole, the perform; went with a swinging spite of the fact that once the prompter's voice was page 45 heard floating gallery-wards. The men and women who took part in the extravaganza have every reason to feel proud of the success of their efforts. A special word of praise is due to those women who worked so hard in connection with the costumes—in particular to Misses Richmond and Hueston.

But one thing worries us. The office boy was disappointed. He complained. Yes, really he did. He said that the play was a fraud. He said that he agreed with the "Evening Post" reporter. The reporter was right, he said, in stating that an umbrella in the time of Caesar was "a gross anachronism." Moreover, he said, one or two other "what-do-you-call-'ems" had escaped the reporter's notice. Or was it that he did not know? For instance, Caesar was murdered nearly a hundred years before Boadicea reigned. Why didn't Mr. Leary learn history? Such "a gross anachronism" was "going too far." Further, the queen carried a suitcase and—. Here we mildly interrupted and tried to explain the word "extravaganza." But we could not pacify the lad, so we sent him to the "Post" to compare his indignant criticisms with those of his comrade of the press.