Folksy mid-western geniality again reigns supreme at the Copley theatre this week in the hilarious little farce, "Your Uncle Dudley", written by two clever actor-playwrights, Messrs. Howard Lindsay and Bertrand Robinson. All of the stereotyped elements of light, small-town comedy are introduced in the evening's parade of the ridiculous. There is the sharp-tongued old grandmother who watches fights, domestic and public, with equal zest; there is the inescapable younger brother, of suppliant mien in financial matters and of blatant taste in underwear; there is the selfish, ambitious mother who is determined to carve out a musical career for her daughter, despite the girl's love for the inevitable local swain; and then, of course, there is Dudley himself, the typical hail fellow well met of any mid-western Rotary Club who spends his time running prize fights, charity bazaars, and community protest meetings while his paint and varnish factory goes into the red and family difficulties come to a crisis.

The plot briefly is that Ethelyn Church, the talented daughter, must win a five thousand dollar prize and a trip to Europe if only to get her mother, a thorough meanie, out of the house to make way for Dudley's affianced, Christine. If she does win, however, she loses her beloved Robert and is doomed to a career abroad, dogged by her relentless mother. Dudley cavorts in the midst of all this in a galaxy of slamming doors, back slappings, protest meetings, silver cup awards, and fruitless "touches" for amounts varying from five dollars to five thousand.

The authors' repertoire of humorous situations is not original, but at least it is varied and extensive. Example: "Where are you going?" the irate, over-curious mother asks of grandmother Dixon who is making haste in her own sedate way up the stairs. "To the bathroom" is the pert reply. Much additional fun in better taste abounds.

If the purpose of the play was to provide as much farcical comedy as possible--and this is the obvious, indeed the only sensible interpretation--then the authors err in exaggerating the fiendishness and small wickedness of the mother, Mabel Dixon Church, who would stoop to any depths to attain her selfish designs. Her machinations insert all too many semi-tragic lapses into the general hilarity for the best enjoyment of the authors' genius for the ridiculous in incident and character.