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No Time for Comedy: A Comedy in Three Acts
1968 edition of this play originally published in 1938. French's Standard Library Edition. Stage comedy that originally starred katharine Cornell and Laurence Olivier.
142 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1939
About the author
S.N. Behrman
45 books7 followersSamuel Nathaniel Behrman was an American playwright, screenwriter, biographer, and longtime writer for The New Yorker. His son is the composer David Behrman.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
October 30, 2022
No Time for Comedy takes place during a very eventful 24 hours in the life of playwright Gaylord Easterbrook. Gay, as he is known, is the successful author of a string of frothy hit comedies, the last three of which were written for his wife, Linda. It's the fall of 1938, and Linda is looking for a new play to star in, but Gay has none; in fact, as No Time for Comedy begins, Gay is nowhere to be found. Linda and her maid, the crusty, dependable Mary, are ringing up Gay's favorite haunts, expecting to find him hung over in some Broadway saloon.
Enter--unexpectedly--Philo Smith, a wealthy, middle-aged banker whom Linda met at a party the other night, with some disturbing news. Gay, Philo says, is at this very moment at Philo's house, being entertained by Philo's young second wife Amanda. Amanda likes to inspire artistic men to realize their inner greatness, Philo tells Linda; both quickly agree that Gay--along with, perhaps, both of their marriages--is in some danger.
Linda leaps into action. Abetted by both Philo and her charming but shallow pal Makepeace Lovell, she sails into battle with Amanda, in the most wittily polite depiction of a cat-fight on stage this side of The Importance of Being Earnest.
Gay's dilemma turns out to be genuine and compelling: with the very real specter of fascism looming in Spain, Italy, and Germany, he has lost faith in the worth of the comic plays he has been churning out for years. He wants to write about important issues; he's even talking about going to Spain himself, where the Civil War still rages, to gain some real-life experience away from the rarefied world he has heretofore occupied so comfortably.
And so while we're not even looking, this well-made romantic comedy quite unexpectedly morphs into something genuinely substantial, considering fundamental questions of morality and responsibility. Long speeches delivered by Gay and Philo turn out to be not-so-thinly disguised arguments for and against American involvement in what would soon be World War II. And Gay's entirely understandable crisis of conscience lingers with us: finally each of us has to sort out what we think our obligations to humanity--and our fellow human beings--ultimately are.
Enter--unexpectedly--Philo Smith, a wealthy, middle-aged banker whom Linda met at a party the other night, with some disturbing news. Gay, Philo says, is at this very moment at Philo's house, being entertained by Philo's young second wife Amanda. Amanda likes to inspire artistic men to realize their inner greatness, Philo tells Linda; both quickly agree that Gay--along with, perhaps, both of their marriages--is in some danger.
Linda leaps into action. Abetted by both Philo and her charming but shallow pal Makepeace Lovell, she sails into battle with Amanda, in the most wittily polite depiction of a cat-fight on stage this side of The Importance of Being Earnest.
Gay's dilemma turns out to be genuine and compelling: with the very real specter of fascism looming in Spain, Italy, and Germany, he has lost faith in the worth of the comic plays he has been churning out for years. He wants to write about important issues; he's even talking about going to Spain himself, where the Civil War still rages, to gain some real-life experience away from the rarefied world he has heretofore occupied so comfortably.
And so while we're not even looking, this well-made romantic comedy quite unexpectedly morphs into something genuinely substantial, considering fundamental questions of morality and responsibility. Long speeches delivered by Gay and Philo turn out to be not-so-thinly disguised arguments for and against American involvement in what would soon be World War II. And Gay's entirely understandable crisis of conscience lingers with us: finally each of us has to sort out what we think our obligations to humanity--and our fellow human beings--ultimately are.
September 6, 2014
Some advice for aspiring playwrights: If you are a micromanaging control freak, maybe don’t go into writing plays.
No Time for Comedy is dated, but the central concept had the potential to be intriguing. A playwright married to a successful actress has struck up a relationship with a married socialite. The socialite believes he should abandon comedy and focus on “serious” subject matter, which would also entail professionally abandoning his wife, who specializes in comedy. The play toys with the contrast of writing and performing comedy during dark days: here, in the 1930s as the world comes to terms with the specter of what’s to come. It’s an interesting concept, but the delivery doesn’t pay off. Part of that is due to the wife and the socialite. Unlike many of the plays I’ve read that come from the 1930s, the female characters in No Time for Comedy are flat and show their age (by which I mean the age of play).
The ending is more meta than I expect from that time period and could have been brilliant, but the set up didn’t create the proper pay off. But it is an interesting idea, and it’s one I think writers and comedians all-too-often grapple with (somewhat different, but reading interviews with sitcoms writers working in the days after 9/11 touches on this theme).
I think I might have enjoyed No Time for Comedy a little more if not for the extensive and unintentionally hilarious action notes. Regular novels do not feature the level of detail that feature in No Time for Comedy’s liner notes. I honestly wish I had written some of them down because they’re just … wow. Just wow. Not recommended.
No Time for Comedy is dated, but the central concept had the potential to be intriguing. A playwright married to a successful actress has struck up a relationship with a married socialite. The socialite believes he should abandon comedy and focus on “serious” subject matter, which would also entail professionally abandoning his wife, who specializes in comedy. The play toys with the contrast of writing and performing comedy during dark days: here, in the 1930s as the world comes to terms with the specter of what’s to come. It’s an interesting concept, but the delivery doesn’t pay off. Part of that is due to the wife and the socialite. Unlike many of the plays I’ve read that come from the 1930s, the female characters in No Time for Comedy are flat and show their age (by which I mean the age of play).
The ending is more meta than I expect from that time period and could have been brilliant, but the set up didn’t create the proper pay off. But it is an interesting idea, and it’s one I think writers and comedians all-too-often grapple with (somewhat different, but reading interviews with sitcoms writers working in the days after 9/11 touches on this theme).
I think I might have enjoyed No Time for Comedy a little more if not for the extensive and unintentionally hilarious action notes. Regular novels do not feature the level of detail that feature in No Time for Comedy’s liner notes. I honestly wish I had written some of them down because they’re just … wow. Just wow. Not recommended.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews