Henry IV is a difficult play. Difficult to understand and to act, to direct and produce, this play is a fit challenge for a competent group of amateurs. Pirandello explores a madman's world, with quick thrusts of dialogue, first expository, then dramatic. The madman jumps between the world of modern reality--called sanity--and his other real world of the 11th century, in which he is Henry IV.

The leading actor must be able to make sudden shifts between the two worlds--one sane and the other mad--with convincing jumps in technique. And the rest of the cast must keep pace with him. Fortunately for the HDC production, Thomas Gaydos is a most convincing Henry. Throughout the first act his performance has a bizarre flavor that passes very well for insanity. Gaydos can even roll his eyes in approved madman style without a trace of hackneyed or forced acting. Then, in scene one of the second act, he becomes rational without the awkwardness that too sudden or too complete a change from mad raving would-bring. Gaydos performance is actually one of the best controlled and thought out that I have seen by a non-professional.

Most of the talent supporting Gaydos lags behind his example only slightly. Suzanne Chappel Finch, while in a role admitting of little experimentation, manages to keep herself from being overlooked among the welter of more colorful characters by the intensity with which she delivers he lines. Fortunately, these lines are few enough, and are of enough importance to stand the force she puts on them.

Among the minor roles, Dean Gitter as Harold and Courtlandt Gilmour as Landolph share top honors. As flunkies hired by the madman's family to act the part of Henry "secret advisers," they help reduce the margin between sanity and madness with fine, almost whimsical, performances. Patricia Rosenwald handles the routine assignment of her small part with more than minimum enthusiasm and ability.

Only Richard Mayer as the doctor and Edward Golden, playing Belcredi, fall below the general high level of acting. Mayer seemed confused about the proper way to portray a fumbling, pompous psychiatrist and decided to mouth his words and wave his hands--the wrong choice for any role. Golden, to the contrary, had two perfectly adequate portrayals at his command. Unable to decide between them, he used both, thus destroying the merits of each. Had he stuck to his first inclination to show Belcredi as a serious man working hard at a studied foppery he would have succeeded admirably. But he continually interjected another character--that of a bored and pouting aristocrat whose chief occupation was making little moues of disdain, anger, and hurt pride. The remaining actors were uniformly competent without shining, which considering the high quality of the leads, is quite praiseworthy.

It is difficult to tell, in productions like this, whether the director did well in selecting his actors, production staff, and setting or whether available material just happens to fit the play's requirements.

In either event, the result that Richard Heffron obtained as director is superior. The setting fits into Fogg Museum with imaginative boldness, as does the wardrobe by Leslie Van Zandt. With the exceptions noted, the actors are well chosen and know what they are about, while speaking. Almost more important, they are present in spirit as well as body when another character has the floor. And when the action becomes violent, actors are not in each others' way, but where they should be. All signs of a good director.

Once Heffron brings faster pacing to the first act, Henry IV will be quite an excellent show. Even now, it exemplifies the best in college theatre--imaginative productions of experimental material.