Arts and Manners

Common Man Meets Girl

The common man, a fat slob, is muscling in on the stage. As if it were not bad enough that the common man constitutes the theater audience (which, God knows, is becoming unbearably idiotic), that repulsive creature is now, increasingly often, the play itself—for instance in Middle of the Night, which its author, Mr. Paddy Chayefsky, had the effrontery to call A Love Story. When it comes to love, I take no nonsense; and when a third-rate TV writer like Mr. Chayefsky has the gall to label three acts of verbal dishwater “a love story,” I see red. On the other hand, I am more bullish on love than ever before: a sentiment that can survive Middle of the Night is here to stay.

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William S. Schlamm

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Common Man Meets Girl

The common man, a fat slob, is muscling in on the stage. As if it were not bad enough that the common man constitutes the theater audience (which, God knows, is becoming unbearably idiotic), that repulsive creature is now, increasingly often, the play itself—for instance in Middle of the Night, which its author, Mr. Paddy Chayefsky, had the effrontery to call A Love Story. When it comes to love, I take no nonsense; and when a third-rate TV writer like Mr. Chayefsky has the gall to label three acts of verbal dishwater “a love story,” I see red. On the other hand, I am more bullish on love than ever before: a sentiment that can survive Middle of the Night is here to stay.