New Plays in Manhattan

Borrowed Love. Heroine Nina Leeds of Playwright Eugene O'Neill's famed Strange Interlude sees her weakling husband tortured by fears of his own sterility, knows him to be the possible heir of a family lunatic strain. Partly to restore his happiness, partly out of love for her friend Dr. Darrell, Nina decides to have a child --by Dr. Darrell. This she does. The circumstance is only part of the vast neurotic complex of the play. Springing from characters whose histories are lengthily and deeply traced, it is an integral, convincing element in the drama.

In Borrowed Love, similar neuroses lead to similar adjustments, but with far less convincing effect. John Carter was a virile, mighty halfback at the University. But in later, married life he contracted influenza which left him obsolete as a proper husband. Considerate of his wife's resulting deprivations, he persuades her to allow him to introduce Tom Bradford, potent theatrical manager.

After a while, observing that the couple charm each other, Husband Carter plans to go west, get a divorce, thus allow Mrs. Carter to marry the engaging Bradford. But when he divulges this plan, Manager Bradford coolly declares that he is an itinerant fellow, not given to matrimony. Husband Carter's rage is quelled by his wife, who afterwards tells him that she has never been able to accept Bradford completely. Inspired by this new light on faithful, patient wifehood, Husband Carter decides to stay with Mrs. Carter and consult a new doctor.

Though written by Bide Dudley, chatty theatre editor of the New York Evening World, the play is redundant, filled with burdensome explanations of obvious situations. The predicament of Husband Carter is invested with little or no dramatic dignity. Tripping delicately between silliness and indelicacy, as if performing an egg dance, Richard Gordon gives a deft, sincere but inevitably useless performance as Husband Carter.

Connie's Hot Chocolates is a ramified version of the floor show which is exhibited at a Harlem night club known as Connie's Inn. As in all Negro revues, there are banal scenes on the levee, dingy costumes consisting of overalls with patches on the seats of the pants. Yet for dancing, humor and dynamic showmanship, this is the best venture of its sort since Blackbirds. Best dancing: "Jazz-lips" Richardson (shuffles and sneaks). Best tune: "Ain't Misbehavin'.''