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'The character of Gilberte in MM. [Henri] Meilhac and [Ludovic] Halévy's best comedy – if comedy, indeed, that sad domestic tragedy can be called – is the second assumption by the spoiled favourite of the Comédie Française to command this season the curiosity of her London hearers. With her treatment of Phèdre Gaiety playgoers were already familiar, and its struggle between fine dramatic intention and physical weakness had been exhaustively discussed. Not much interest could possibly be aroused amongst those acquainted with Les Enfants d'Edouard by the actress's impersonation of the elder of the two little Princes in Casimir Deavigne's inadequate adaptation of Richard III.; though it may be noted as an instance of premeditated appreciation on the part of one of her enthusiastic admirers that her assumption of young Edouard was found to be full of "fragrance." Her performance in [Eugene Scribe's] Adrienne Lecourvreur, on the other hand, was in every way capable of commanding attention. Like Frou-Frou, the rôle of Adrienne was new to her; it had not, at any rate, been included in her repertoire at the Théâtre Française. In it she challenged comparison with great actresses of bygone days, beginning with Rachel, for whom the rôle was manufactured by Scribe and [Ernest] Legouvé thirty years ago; by it she proved that, if she could not overcome the prejudices of persistent praisers of times past, she could give a vigorous and highly effective rendering of a very striking character.
'Her success in Adrienne Lecouvreur, a success upon the whole which cannot be denied, even though it be qualified by the admission of grave deficiencies, she now follows up by a triumph likely to be still more popular. Her best scene – that at the close of the third act, where the wayward wife works herself up into frenzied jealousy against her innocent sister, was received on Monday with a veritable storm of applause. It is, of course, impossible for those who recollect Aimée Desclée [1837?-1874] in Frou-Frou to avoid contrasting the impressions left upon them by the two actresses; nor, provided that no prejudice warp the judgment against the new reading simply on account of its novelty, can any harm result from such a comparison, which in one form or another represents a necessary element of criticism. Madame Bernhardt, then, gives us Gilberte who pains and shocks and excites by the same giddy words and reckless deeds with which the Gilberte of her predecessor made us laugh or weep with her, according to her will. Rising, if indeed it be rising, to the occasion when powerful outbursts of feeling are demanded, Madame Bernhardt deals far less happily with the delicate suggestions of the character. Her art is admirable when she is showing how the spark of a woman's anger is fanned by herself into a flame; and in her illustration of the wilful wife's despairing fury at finding herself supplanted by her sister there is a terrible realism which Desclée never reached. As Gilberte stands before the wondering Louise, swaying to and fro under gusts of irrepressible passions, nervously tearing her handkerchief in pieces, and finally losing the little self-control that she has maintained with such difficulty, the actress succeeds in bringing out with almost appalling distinctness the frenzied motive which impels the woman to her crime. But in her earlier acts where high-spirited gaiety should make Frou-Frou loveable in spite of her thoughtlessness and want of principle, the animation does not seem spontaneous and natural; rather does it appear assumed for the moment by one who is conscious of impending misfortune, but determined to forget that sighs must one day take the place of laugher. The simulation is clever, but it is only simulation after all, and is as little satisfying as the geniality of one who smiles with the lips while the eyes are gravely observant. Again, Madame Bernhardt, brilliant though her comedy is, lacks the lightness of touch needed to moderate the offensiveness or banter directed by a young married woman against the rakish habits of her father. Though there is no inflection of her voice and no gesture of her body which is not warranted by the text, there is yet a something which prevents her from realizing the purity of Gilberte before she gives way to love for De Valréas, and to jealousy of De Sartorys and Louise. Hence, it follows that when the unhappy woman's sin finds her out the actress fails to arouse for poor erring Frou-Frou the profound pity which, with Desclée, used to make the audience sob: as, for instance, over such a passage as the tender reminiscence of bygone happiness in the midst of present misery when, with touching incongruity, Frou-Frou recalls at the very crisis of her agony a merry party at the theatre where "tout à coups dans un entr'acte – sans aucune raison – je me suis mise à rire et à battre des mains en disant, Comme je m'amuse! Comme je suis heureuse!"
'Little that is favourable can be said of the support accorded to Madame Bernhardt by coadjutors recruited from the Gymnase (where, by the way, M. Train took part in the original production of Frou-Frou in 1869) and other theatres. Most of these engaged show, it is true, to more advantage than they did either in Adrienne Lecouvreur or in Phèdre; but to grant this is unfortunately not to award very high praise. The lack of grace and distinction about M. Berton's De Valréas makes Gilberte's infatuation needlessly incredible. M. Dieudonné exaggerates the make-up of the old roué Brigard, but misses much of his racy humour, and Mdlle. Jullien, strive as she may, cannot embody satisfactorily the sweet seriousness and self-denial of Gilberte's misunderstood sister, Louise. M. Train, however, now promoted from De Valréas to De Sartorys, seconds Madame Bernhardt with excellent effect in the painful scenes between husband and wife; and Mdlle. Kalb makes a most favourable impression by the easy humour with which her Baronne de Cambri expresses her worldly wisdom. Like other French actresses she makes the mistake of fancying that it adds to her attractiveness to redden her lips till they blush crimson for the distrust of their natural charms.
'The evident enjoyment with which this comedy was received makes it probable that it will be repeated more often than any other play this season, more especially if Messrs. [John] Hollingshead and [M.L.] Mayer should fail to induce either M. Coquelin to disobey the Théâtre Français of the authorities of that establishment to allow his promised visit to the Gaiety next week.'
(St. James's Gazette, London, Wednesday, 2 June 1880, p.13b)
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Charles Collette 'At Home' at the Alhambra, London, 1887
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