Theatre Production - The Girl in the Taxi

"My taxi, I believe!" says Baron Dauvray, as he enters the vehicle from one side while piquant Mme. Charcot enters it from the other; "No, mine," she replies, to which the gallant Baron, with a quick appreciation of feminine beauty, responds "Then ours!" and as they each find their destination is the Restaurant Jeunesse Doree, supper arrangements are quickly concluded. That is the incident which gives to the amusing piece, so cleverly done into English by Messrs. Frederick Fenn and Arthur Wimperis, its title; beyond that the "Girl in the Taxi" plays but a subordinate part.

The principal lady is Suzanne Pomarel, the wife of a provincial silk merchant, and she and her husband have come to Paris to thank Baron Dauvray for the prize he has awarded her for conjugal virtue. The Baron poses as a philosopher and scientist and holds pronounced opinions on the subject of heredity. His borne life is a model of decorum and both his son and daughter have been brought up in the strict path of propriety, but Hubert, the son, is bursting to kick over the traces, only, as he confesses to his sister's fiance, very little can be done on an allowance of five shillings a week.

As the two young men are discussing the situation Suzanne makes her appearance and the young lieutenant recognises the lady with whom be had a desperate flirtation some time previously. They agree to sup together at the Jeunesse Doree as Mons. Pomarel has to depart that evening to take up a fortnight's military duty. Suzanne makes a great impression on the unsophisticated heart of Hubert, who persuades Rene to allow him to take his place at the supper rendezvous, the funds for which he obtains by pawning a valuable little picture.

PRESS REVIEW

(Lloyds Weekly News [London, UK] - 8th September, 1912)
"THE GIRL IN THE TAXI"

In its German original, as well as in its American translation, "The Girl in the Taxi" has been a tremendous success as a farcical comedy without music. Now, in London, it is in for a record run - it cannot help but have it - as a musical comedy.

Notwithstanding a somewhat ancient "main idea," the new production, at the Lyric is quite the brightest thing of its kind since "The Merry Widow." The characters, maybe, are old, friends, every one of them, and the plot is certainly as obvious from the first as an elephant. When the gay Baron Dauvray, a monument of superfine morals in his own home, shares a taxi with a young lady to the restaurant Jeuness Dorée and there takes supper with her, it is plain to everybody in the auditorium that everybody on the stage will meet him there - even his own daughter, whose fiancé has brought her to the place merely to show it to her as one of the sights of Paris. There, too, he meets his supposed namby-pamby son. who in his turn meets the husband of the lady he is escorting. But, in spite of all this stock farcical comedy incident, the piece seems to be full of freshness and originality.

It is because everyone concerned in it is so fresh and so original - and so clever. The dialogue, as well, is deliciously fresh and crisp, and the lyrics of Mr. Arthur Wimperis, who is responsible, with Mr. Frederick Fenn, for the English "book," are even more sparkling than his "Arcadians" work.

Mr. Arthur Playfair as the Baron, Mr. C. H. Workman as the old husband of Suzanne (the leading female character, yet not the "Girl" of the title), and Mr. Frederick Volpe as the head waiter at the Jeuneese Dorée, are all most richly humorous, and as Suzanne Miss Yvonne Arnaud is as clever as her ways are charming and her voice is beautiful. A few weeks ago Miss Arnaud, who is French, was in the chorus of the Adelphi. To-day she is a "star" of the first musical comedy magnitude.

When the bousehold bas retired to rest the Baron emerges from his room intent on nocturnal amusement and is only saved from being discovered by the Baroness by hiding under the table. Their daughter, Jacqueline, is another naughty nightbird, as she has prevailed upon Rene to take her to the famous restaurant. Consequently there promises to be a surprising family reunion that night, with some interesting revelations of character.

In a private room on one side of the restaurant is the Baron with Mme. Charcot; on the other side is Hubert with Mme. Pomarel, making the most of his opportunities, but troubled with the thought that the supper bill will exceed the limits of his purse.

An unexpected visitor then arrives in the person of Mons. Pomare!, who had missed his train, but not the cup that cheers. He recognises Hubert, and the comic suggestiveness of the situation is heightened by the fact that he does not suspect that the fair lady behind the curtain, whose outstretched hand he kisses with bibulous gallantry, is none other than his own wife.

Professor Charcot adds another element of uncertainty to the situation, and with amused curiosity we wait to see in what manner the authors will avert the crushing denouement of recognition. In the more delicate scenes this is cleverly carried out, while the Baron's surprise at meeting Hubert is only equalled by the gratification that his theories with regard to heredity are strengthened by finding that he is not the champagne father of a Mellin's food son. Everyone we know to be skating on thin ice, but we know, also, that it is Palais Royal ice, and that, though it may crack here and there, it is sufficiently strong to guarantee the revellers against immersion.

Such merry farces more frequently than not practically terminate with the second act, but the gay antics of "The Girl in the Taxi" only end with the final fall of the curtain.

Breakfast is anything but a happy meal for the roysterers of the night as they find, to their consternation, that the new butler engaged by the Baroness was the chief waiter at the Restaurant. Nor are the final explanations at all tedious, for a satisfactory way out of the imbroglio is found by impressing Pomarel with the fact that he was frightfully intoxicated and that it is his duty to apologise for the trouble he has caused, which he does and thus allays all suspicions as to the compromising escapades of those whose "night out" might have ended so very disastrously.

I must pay tribute to the melodious quality of Jean Gilbert's music and to the excellent manner in which the piece was played. "The Girl in the Taxi" has made the reputation of Mlle. Yvonne Arnaud and enhanced that of others already well established. Moreover, Mr. P. Michael Faraday is to be congratulated on the admirable way in which he has "produced" this merriest of musical farces.

The dresses in this musical and amusing play, "The Girl in the Taxi," are more than usually charming and are indicative of the autumn fashions, as they should be, after all eccentricities have been subdued.

Miss Margaret Paton, in the first act, wears a sweetly pretty frock of white lace, the skirt trimmed with ribbon and flowers. Draped over this, in quaintly simple style, is a tunic of blue taffeta that is caught together at the back with a rosette and is finished at the end with silver fringe. The little jacket worn over the lace corsage is of blue taffeta.

In the second act, Jacqueline has a charming dress of net, with lace insertions and silver fringe, over which is draped pale pink chiffon and superposed with a deeper shade of pink; a folded mauve ceinture of chiffon gives a pretty effect of colour to the whole. Again, in the third act, she has a frock of pink charmeuse, with a loose side drapery over a lace petticoat, making a pretty and effective finish.

Miss Yvonne Arnaud, as Suzanne Pomarel, makes a picturesque entry in her simple grey charmeuse gown with a touch of palest pink in the embroidered ends of her grey chiffon shoulder scarf. In the restaurant "Jeunesse Doree" Suzanne is beautifully gowned in palest pink charmeuse, with a short straight tunic, striped with single strings of diamonds and finished with a very handsome latticed fringe of diamante. The corsage was also a mass of diamante and the under skirt of white chiffon with ribbons and flowers. A gorgeous evening coat of silver mail with diamante clasps, the collar also of the same dazzling gems. Touches of blue and green in the pipings of this beautiful wrap were original. In the third act, Suzanne appears in a tailor-made suit of sapphire blue satin, with white satin facings to the collar and cuffs. A white bodice, with narrow blue straps of satin, was quaint and new.

Miss Amy Augarde, as the Baroness Delphine Dauvray, looked very graceful and dignified in a lovely gown of champagne charmeuse, most artistically draped over an under skirt of the same tone, richly ornamented with gold embroidery and fringe. Another very handsome gown, in the last act, was an under dress of silver tissue, with eau de nil charmeuse, long graceful draperies and a black velvet band at the waist.

Rose, the "Girl in the Taxi," makes her first appearance in the restaurant scene, where the fun is fast and furious. In a dainty frock of blue charmeuse, made in a loose, long tunic, with pink and black veilings of chiffon and oxidized silver lace introduced under the chiffon, Miss Cecily Stuckey is quite charmingly seductive, and we do not at all wonder at the Baron refusing to get out of the taxi when he found it already occupied by such a choice little lady. Her next dress was equally fascinating and was composed of a skirt of white accordion-pleated lace and chiffon, caught up all round at the level of the knees in a slightly pouched effect. A chic little coatee of charmeuse went well with this creation, as also the black velvet hat and white osprey mount.

The guests, at the reception in the Baron Dauvray's house in Paris, in the first act, were exquisitely gowned also, one very tall elegante amongst these wore a beautifully cut and draped gown of purple satin, lined throughout with cerise, which only was seen in delightful contrast as she moved about. The colours were beautifully blended in this as in many other attractive dresses seen amongst the merry crowd.

The modern dresses worn by the men throughout were specially noticeable for excellence of cut. Both the morning suits and the dress clothes had a smartness and finish about them that did not fail to make an impression on the "Jeunesse Doree" amongst the audience. I was quiite amused at the enthusiasm evinced by one or two Cambridge undergraduates present, who scanned the programme very carefully to find out whether the tailor's name happened to be mentioned.

The hats, too, of the guests, I mean the lady guests of course, were of the latest Parisian creation. The scenery and floral decorations were most artistic. The restaurant scene was so artistically done, that one quite forgot one was in London.