Alvin — William Gillette
Alvin — William Gillette is an article published in The Pittsburg Press on 27 november 1900.
About the play Sherlock Holmes at Alvin Theater, Pittsburgh, PA (USA).
Article
ALVIN — Mr. Gillette ought to be satisfied, quite satisfied, with his work in "Sherlock Holmes," as self-satisfied in fact as Sherlock would be if such a mass of conceit and cock sure primeness as Doyle has depicted ever existed. The past. master of détectives was present at the Alvin with not so much as a hair missing. Gillette succeeded in getting every atom there. The marvel is (and everyone who has had the pleasure of meeting the actor and author will agree with us), Tow a gentleman with the actor's unobtrusive manners and modesty and the almost religious observance of conventions Mr. Gillette displays in life can so thoroughly efface himself and get into the detective's skin. But he does it. It is like one of those surprisingly clever things Keller springs on you How he feels is well we were on the point of saying "A horse of another color," and on second thought we will let it stand. Of course there must be some satisfaction in doing a new thing, or doing a thing you haven't done before, or in an entirely different way from that in which a thing has been done before. Doubtless Mr. Gillette shrugged his shoulders when the idea was first seriously suggested to him.
And there must be some satisfaction if lucre is a solace. Of course Mr. Gillette is not above all human weaknesses — he may possibly like to add to his bank account. But whether he is altogether satisfied with himself and his Sherlock is a question now solely between him and the gallery gods. It has reached a point wholly above-far away and beyond us. And Doyle isn't in it. He never les down to sleep that he does not wish he had never, never erented Sherlock, for Doyle, despite his médical training, is a man of feeling and good, hard sense. However, it seems as if he either could not bear the burden of creating Sherlock alone or bear sole responsibility any longer, so somehow he inveigled Mr. Gillette into this dramatization, then the moment Gillette was committed Doyle, to borrow the language of the boys, "took a sneak" to Africa or some other kingdom, and left it all on Gillette. It begins to look very much that way. Anyhow Gillette is "it" with a vengeance, As long as he confines himself to first-class theaters, however, the actor is comparatively Bafe. We wouldn't risk a cent on his life if made a season's dates with theaters ifke the Bijou. Imagination falls us when we think of Gillette in the Bijou. Well, something would give way; they simply couldn't stand the strain, they would just naturally bust wide open-and elther the patrol wagons or hook and ladder companies would be on hand before the managers knew it.
Mr. Gillette identifies himself so completely with his part that doubtless such experiences as discovering, as he parts bis hair, that the attendant that supplies clean towels and soap is fourth cousin to an active anarchist, or notes, as he pulls on his shoes that the bell-boy's second cousin has the smallpox, are growing absurdly, almost painfully, frequent. In his merciless impersonation of a supernatural detective Mr. Gillette is alded and abetted by a carefully selected company. One's hands involuntarily move to one's watch and pocket when some of the people are introduced. It is difficult to disabuse oneself of the idea that somehow he is not "up against" "the real thing" at last.
Doyle showed us how much could be made of detail; how detail may fill the eye completely, obscuring for the time being the more masterful trend of unsuspected but inevitably overwhelming cumulative force. Gillette's Sherlock Holmes is a very decided improvement upon the hitherto universally accepted idea that the man who pulls two guns against the man who has pulled one has the "call," even if the first pulled is aimed straight. Sherlock Holmes has its uses. It is a model — a perfect model for all addicted to melodrama. Lights and shades of character as unexpected as lightning out of a clear sky: action varying from the calmest, coldest deliberation to the swiftness and alertness of the chameleon, that swoops upon its prey, reinforced always by the self-satisfied comment of the great detective — they are all there. In saying this it must be borne in mind that if Mr. Gillette did not surround himself with very intelligent and capable actors and actresses we would not get this result. Very rarely do we have a company as well balanced, as capable every way and as admirable individually and collectively as the company supporting Mr. Gillette. The art is of the best. And it is doubtful whether anybody, even Doctor Doyle himself, could improve upon the performance given at the Alvin last night.
Mr. Gillette has given us good work now frequently. The public have been taught to expect good work of him. Two of his plays rank with the strongest modern productions. Sherlock Holmes is treated in the manner commended by the most successful dramatists, while the scenic effects indicate the maximum of resources of the scene painter, scene shifter and electrician. The millions who are familiar with the great detective's work must experience satisfaction in following his movements on the stage. It is not often one sees a detective story worked out on the stage. It is a novelty. As such Mr. Gillette presents it. He has continued to inject a little sentiment-not too much-just sufficient to heighten the interest.
