After the Hasty Pudding Theatricals had produced a particularly "informal" play entitled "Builders of Babylon," in 1909, a group of horrified alumni gathered in consultation. To uplift the theatrical standards, they hired the director of the Princeton Triangle shows to coach the Pudding's next effort. After only a few rehearsals, the new director, bewildered at the haphazardness of the show, resigned himself to fate. "I give up!" he exclaimed. "At Princeton we put these plays on for money, while it seems that Harvard boys only put them on for fun!"

This off-hand remark by the harried director typifies the attitude with which Pudding members have produced all 107 of their shows. They seldom attempted to produce great theater, for when they have tried, the results usually have been disastrous. The aim of the Pudding is enjoyment--for the cast, and if possible, for the audience.

This year, the Pudding, the oldest continuous theatrical organization in America, will produce its 108th show, "Love Rides The Rails." As has been the custom for practically all Pudding plays, "Love Rides the Rails" has experienced crises, renewed traditions, and made innovations. Still, the show will go on, with the usual complement of hairy legs, bad jokes, and rollicking music. It may never reach the Shubert, but it will be another link in one of Harvard's most enduring institutions.

It all started in a Hollis Hall room on Dec. 13, 1844, when several members of the Hasty Pudding Club put on a "tragiccomic burlesque opera" entitled "Bombastes Furioso". Up until this time, Pudding personnel had limited their dramatic productions to mock trials such as "Dido vs. Aeneas: For Breach of Promise."

"Bombastes Furioso" was eminently successful. Lemuel Hayward, one of the originators of the show, wrote, "The play went off splendidly. Distaffina wore a low neck and short sleeves, and on introducing a fancy dance, the applause almost shook old Hollis down." The success of Distaffina's "dance" was primarily responsible for the birth of the "hairy legs" tradition. Ever since then, the chorus line has been built around 200-pound football guards, dressed and padded on the lines of Mae West.

Broadway Burlesques

After "Bombastes Furioso", the Pudding went gaily on, producing an average of three shows a year. These early plays were mostly poor burlesques of Broadway productions and take-offs on famous operas such as "Slasher and Crasher," and "Did you ever send your Wife to Brighton?" "Tom Thumb," produced in 1855, marked the first musical and the first production shown to a public audience.

The play that first gave the Pudding a national reputation was "Dido and Aeneas" presented in 1882. It was shown in the usual tradition, complete with exploding altars and discourses on chastity, but it did have an excellent book, garnished with music described by Samuel Eliot Morison '08 as "a potpourri of Offenbach, Suppe, Bizet, Meyerbeer, and Wagner."

"Dido and Aeneas" was good enough to start another Pudding tradition, which in many ways has proved to be a cul de sac throughout the years. The play was sent on tour for the first time and played to audiences in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia.

Sherwood and Sears

By the opening of the 20th Century, the Pudding was firmly entrenched as a college institution. The shows from 1900 to the present have been on more or less the same line and have met with varying degrees of success. However each play is never the prototype of its predecessor; on the countrary, each one has its own character and its own traits. They have been miserable failures and they have been outstanding successes. They have ended in the black and, more often, in the red.

Perhaps the best show ever put on by the Pudding was "Barnum Was Right", produced in 1920. Robert E. Sherwood '17 and Samuel P. Sears '17 wrote the music and lyrics. It was a success largely because of its straight musical comedy format instead of the usual burlesquish offering. The play was actually "good theatre" and played to enthusiastic audiences in New York and Philadelphia.

The late Robert Benchley '12 helped to produce three of the best Pudding shows: "Diane's Debut" in 1910, "The Crystal Gazer" in 1911, and "Below Zero" in 1912. "Diana's Debut", the most popular of the three, was a heavy-handed satire on Boston Society. The big song in the play had a famous line, "At Somerset, things were rather wet."

In 1925, the Pudding and the Institute of 1770 joined forces. The merger opened casting to all in the college and brought some measures of new talent into the club.

In the same year the Hasty Pudding Dramatic Association was formed, so that the producers could squeeze out enough capital for another road trip. This inno vation was described by Roger S. Hewlett '33 as "really only a character on paper to legitimize the theatricals and to avoid the government taxes." "1776", the next year's show, evidently profited from the merger as it embarked on one of the most ambitious Pudding tours ever. It played to audiences in Boston, Northampton, Cleveland, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, and Detroit.

Along with these ups, the Pudding has also had its share of downs. "Fireman, Save My Child," in 1929 went on tour to New York. Here, it was such a colossal failure that a segment of Harvard alumni in New York gathered and implored the Pudding never to send another show to Broadway. 1930's production was so good, however, that the alumni did an about face and asked them to return.

A Curtain Raiser

Whenever the Pudding has what its producers consider a small hit, it will enthusiastically hit the road on all sorts of grand tours. In 1913, "Panamania" was good enough to merit such a junket and the Pudding sent it off on an ambitious tour covering practically every state west of the Rockies. A newspaper review told of the show's termination in Chicago.

"An informal party for the cast had been held for some time before the curtain was due to rise, so that the players had ample opportunity to acquire a stock of artificial good cheer. When the curtain arose disclosing the 'picture'--hero on a tree, cast kneeling before him on the ground, their plight soon became evident. The hero fell headlong from the tree and lay prone upon the stage, and when rescue came, it was found that the chorus was sound asleep to a man. The curtain redescended immediately."

All pudding tours have not had quite so disasterous culminations as this one, but in the long run, they have proved to be consistent money-losers. For instance, when the Pudding produced their hundredth show "Here's the Pitch," in 1948, the producers decided to celebrate. They sent the play to every big city east of the Mississippi, and ended up with a deficit of over $13,000. Since then, the Pudding has attempted to curtail such ambition.

Foul or Fair

1956's rendition of "Love Rides the Rails," will see several changes in Pudding tradition. The producers have closed casting to eliminate all but members of the Hasty Pudding Club; a Freshman will write the music; and the play will return to the original tradition of a spring, rather than a winter, production. This is the way the Pudding operates. Whenever it finds itself faced with any pressing financial or technical difficulties, it has always managed, by foul means or fair, to get something on the stage.

The Hasty Pudding Theatrical's efforts since 1844 have fluctuated from the sublime to the ridiculous. It has waged a continuous battle to stay out of the red, a battle it seldom wins or really cares to win. As long as the performers themselves enjoy what they are doing--as has been the case for the last century--it really matters little whether the audience laughs with them or at them. As long as they laugh, it's a hit