Outspoken critics of Broadway are about as common these days as squirrels are in the Yard. Elia Kazan ran through several of the familiar complaints about the American theatre Tuesday afternoon at the Boston University Theatre. His pointed remarks drew applause and laughter from the drama students in the audience; but, lacking any freshness of outlook, this string of acidulous quips merely bolstered the now fashionable party line that holds the New York stage, as well as most other American entertainment media, in disfavor.

From the minute he walked out from the wings, Kazan completely won over B.U.'s would-be thespians. Calling for a match to light his cigar, he by-passed formal lecturing and proceeded directly to a question-and-answer period. His whole manner was anti-academic, and the students loved it. This was no stuffy professor teaching out of a textbook, but a real live pro who had quit the Yale Drama School, made it the hard way in New York, and now was still interested in Miller and Brecht--just like them.

Everybody seemed pretty happy; it was almost like a successful political rally. Applause greeted the assertion that "TV is an advertising medium disguised as entertainment." After this great feat of perception, Kazan revealed that ticket prices are too high on Broadway. "When I took my family to the theatre last week, the tab for the five of us was fifty dollars," he said, "and I resented it like Hell." (Scattered laughter and several nods of sympathy.)

Taking off his suitcoat, he lashed out (verbally) at "the money boys" who have "cowed Tennessee Williams;" and he then characterized professional training in acting as "training in imitation of English semi-homosexual productions."

Apparently, the temptation to be at once colorful and appealing not only led Kazan into cliches but also muddled his thinking. He couldn't seem to make up his mind about the American audience. Waxing eloquent, he praised the public as "hungry for culture." In another place, however, he called the theatre a place "where men sleep and women try to look pretty and hold on until it's over." The explanation of this paradox is that (as every trouper knows) there are good audiences and bad audiences, one for one kind of vague generalization and another for its opposite.

For the most part, Kazan had nothing to say about Lincoln Center beyond what the press has already mentioned. Still, he did make a rather frightening statement about doing Shakespeare in a "vigorous, new style." If, by this, he meant transforming verse rhythms into "conversational" cadences a la Jason Robards, Jr., Lincoln Center's opening season may well turn out worse than the Loeb's. Whatever the future of Lincoln Center, and the American theatre, let us hope that it does not depend on the insight and vision of Elia the Prophet.