"Of Mice and Men" is the kind of play which makes erstwhile adamant lovers of realism break ground and run for the affectionate softnesses of rosy romanticism. Some have termed it "a poetic idyll," some "stark" or "tragic" or "harrowing" or have used infinite combinations of all these terms. Whatever its effect on individuals, the play tells the story of Lennie, a monstrous halfwit, who absent-mindedly crushes the life out of small rodents because he likes to feel their fur; before the final act has run its macabre course, Lennie has so perfected the fine art of strong arm caressing that he smothers the boss's daughter in a pile of hay.

It is the background of this ridiculous theme which makes the play interesting. The character of Lennie is developed in such a manner that he is not so much a hapless idiot as he is a well meaning child who has no idea of his own strength. Furthermore, the dialogue is lean and vivid, and the supporting parts are so created as to add an undercurrent of unavoidable tragedy. The very simplicity of the story and its treatment gives the play a certain tenderness and poignancy, and the plot moves nervously and swiftly towards the doom which hangs over these men and their dream of the life they will never see.

Edward Andrews, as Lennie, is convincing in a hardworking way, and Guy Robertson, as George, Lennie's guiding hand, ably succeeds to Wallace Ford's performance in the original. Claire Luce, the only woman in the play, gives more of an impression of small town degeneracy than she does of earthy crudity, but her portrayal is excellent in its contribution to the suspense. John Hamilton, Thomas Findlay, and Lester Damon are admirable in the all-important supporting parts.

John Steinbeck's play appeared on Broadway in November of 1937 and promptly won the Critics Circle prize. To see it is an imperative theatrical errand if only to gain some understanding of the impressive heights to which a gifted handling of realism can raise an exceedingly fictional theme.