When Robert E. Sherwood used to write movie reviews for Life, his column was pithy, though interspersed with light humor. Of late years, he has turned his hand to writing plays, and in the transition has tempered his with even more finely, while building his plots on material of thinner and thinner texture. "The Queen's Husband," presented at the Plymouth by the American Theatre Society, is another well-received example of the later Sherwood tradition.

Barry Jones, the chief star of the London cast, is the Queen's husband, spelled k-i-n-g. Almost completely disregarded in the affairs of state, he spends his time going for walks, bicycle rides, or playing draughts (checkers to us) with a very excellent royal footman, Phipps. While the queen is planning a trip to America, where she will sacrifice one knows not what to raise funds for her country, Princess Anne is falling in love with the king's secretary. Proximity is as good a grounds for the romance as any. No sooner has the queen left the country than revolt breaks out and between the anarchists and the ambitions of the Military dictator, and there seems little hope for the peace of the nation. There is the added complication that the odious Prince William of Gleck is the proposed husband for Princess Anne in a forthcoming diplomatic romance. Just about this time the king gets the constitution out of the dust-covered files and reads it, every word. He then proceeds to prove that the worm can turn (in his own humble way, of course), and that the meek inherit the earth.

The king is the turning point of the entire performance, and it is his sense of humor that seems to be the clue to the whole tenor of the play. Those mild little replies of his which carry the kick of a mule and the sly smile that puts him beyond the reach of the bellowings of the dictator, and the outbursts of the queen, vary considerably in their effectiveness. This is not due to failure in performance, but rather to the fact that Sherwood has drawn his point too fine for maintained effectiveness.

Maurice Colburne is the detestable prince who opens his interview with Princess Anne by informing her "I don't like you." Our personal opinion that his makeup and accent were a bit obvious was overridden by the audience in general which seemed happily affected by all that went on.

There is no gripping melodrama in "The Queen's Husband." no kick in the pants humor. But this nice, soft, subiter--there are those who seem to love it.