In the Golden Prime is a sort of cafe society Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Each progresses at length through the three stages that Albee calls "Fun and Games," "Walpurgisnacht," and "Exorcism," and each maintains that adjustment to an unhappy situation can come only through love. Here the resemblance ends. Virginia Woolf remains unified and gripping throughout despite its humor, while In the Golden Prime is episodic and unconvincing, with long irrelevancies and overworked profanities.
Charles Hart's failure is due principally to his didactic attitude. He tries to act the experienced expositor of strange worlds to an ignorant audience, but his attempts to shock by strong language and unusual situation merely confuse his story and annoy his listeners. Nor are the plot and characters so novel. The salvation of the fallen woman, Carol, after her final rejection of environment, friends, and lover has been told before; the twist of using the reactivated love of her crude paramour Morey instead of that of a new Prince Charming is the only originality. Hart's background characters are better creations than his protagonists. The two not-so-innocent visitors from Harrisburg are superb caricatures, as is the TV actress so enmeshed in her role of Alice in Wonderland that her husband complains, "Did you every try to sleep with The White Rabbit?"
The comic sections are extremely funny. A pseudoseance with one Asminu Nomadi (a name meaning "promise of the dawn before sunset") is the high point of the humor although it contributes little to the continuity. Hart should write comedy, for which he has a natural propensity, rather than the weak form of redemptive tragedy, which he strives unsuccessfully to create.
Rachel Kellner as Carol has most of the lines and carries the show as best she can. Her delivery and poise in performance are both natural and dramatically affecting; she makes the audience forget that there is little depth in the character she portrays. Andrew Allen and Ashley Smith are delightful as the visiting couple--he the forward sexual investigator, she the bashful tease. Ann Izzard contributes devastating barbs as Alice, and her husband, Thomas Oxnard, is the perfect foil for Morey. Edward Chase as Morey is the only weak link in the cast. He tries to make up for lack of talent by growling and shouting, but then he is probably embarrassed at the prospect of yelling profanities at the audience for an hour and a half. Who woudn't be?
Reginald Parker's direction is superb. His blocking saves the opening scene from being a talky fiasco, and whenever the dialogue falls down, his elaborate bits of play prevent complete boredom. The direction of the seance scene, a musical chairs game in the dark, is particularly effective. But skillful director and eager cast are not enough. Even Stanislavski directing Otis Skinner could not have completely overcome such glaring defects in their material.
