"Come Across", an omnibus of song, dance, tableau, satire, and horseplay, and all made to order by and for the Hasty Pudding cooks, was handsomely received last night by an audience whose every theatrical appetite must have been satisfied.

The movies come in for another does of ridicule, but the show is by no means squeezed into the narrow scope of merely laughing at the great, defenseless, adolescent industry. There is a Ramone Ramon (pronounced Ramone Ramone, John C. Develin, '38), who is instrumental in a complete collegiate flop along the lines of the complete collegiate flops with which Hollywood periodically inflicts us. There is also a Llewellyn Flushingale, producer (Benjamin F. Dillingham, '39), who is as poetically illiterate, as pompously ignorant, and as, madly lavish, as movie producers are commonly known to be. But this is only a beginning. Somebody is made to ask, "Who is Franklin Roosevelt? Chief Justice?" and there you have a sample of the political satire. A very jerky individual ingeniously dubbed Yule Craven bites off a series of excessively clever, occasionally lascivious remarks, and there you have parodied a member of the stage. This impersonation is, by the way, most brilliantly handled by Paul Killiam, Jr., '37, familiar to the followers of the Dramatic Club's doings. Surrealism, safe from parody because nobody could tell the difference between the two, is highly susceptible to derision, and in the course of the evening it gets its. Even the English peerage is not forgotten, but you should see by now what a colossal chunk this jolly entertainment has bitten off for itself.

But that is, at most, only the half of it. There are songs. These were written by Cammann Newberry, '37, Benjamin Welles, '38, and Gaspar Bacon, Jr., '37, and very well written, too. The title piece, "Wake Up and Swing", and "There's No Wolf Around My Door", might fairly safely have modest success predicted for them in the great outer world. Welles and Bacon have established themselves as most versatile artists indeed. Each had a share in writing the clever book. Bacon did some of the lyrics, and played a prominent role, the broad-if none too deeply-minded Lady Lavinia Doodle. Welles, to occupy his idle moments, played two minor roles and did a suave specialty dance besides.

William Holbrook, in charge of the dances, was wise enough not to fall back wholly upon the ludicrous effects invariably produced by men's attempting to employ the charms of women. This cruder part of the comedy is by no means neglected, but it is stoutly reinforced by some complex and highly entertaining routines, which the chorus men and chorus girls have assiduously perfected. Outstanding, however, in the line of non-dramatic amusement, are the dancing and the Indian-club juggling of John Develin.

The first of the palms for acting is probably won by John M. Graham, '38, president of the club, and picaresque heroine of the current show. He gives us Miss Mae La Verne, who is pretty well described by her first name, and he captures all the seductive coarseness that his playwright colleagues have put into the part. Arnett McKennan, '37, as Gloria Mundi (And some of the best touches are to be found in the names.) makes a wholly satisfactory simple-minded, love-tossed heroine. In general, where the show is not brilliant it is still consistently diverting, and should have a prosperous run.