Great New Actress

One evening last week, The Company of Four, a London longhair repertory group, presented Jean Cocteau's Azrael (English title: The Eagle Has Two Heads),* Next morning Londoners learned that whatever might be said about the play (and little was said in its favor), a young woman named Eileen Herlie, of whom few had ever heard before, was a Great Actress.

In many another city, wise theatergoers would have put that one down in salt and waited for the still greater new actress of week-after-next. But since London's theatrical critics are perhaps the least effusive group of professionals on earth, there was a distinct possibility that young Miss Herlie was probably not far short of the 18th Century's Mrs. Siddons.

Wrote bespectacled, courtly Ernest Betts (Daily Express), who can be as tough as molybdenum: "A great tragic performance. . . . She has an extraordinary range of expression--from bitter sophistication to tragic emotion, and again, to the softest compassion." Chimed the Daily Graphic's Elspeth Grant: "[A] magnificent . . . performance in a specious play. . . ." Wrote George Bishop of the Daily Telegraph: ". . . Magnificent poise ... the dignity of a queen. . . ." The News Chronicle's hard-eyed Alan Dent: "Eileen Herlie's powerful, central and splendid performance makes us long to see her in something saner." The often hard-boiled Noel Coward said simply: "We have seen the birth of a great tragic actress."

Dark-haired, full-blown, 27-year-old Eileen Herlie (nee O'Herlihy) is the Scotch-Irish daughter of a small businessman in Glasgow. Until last week her career has been much like that of most other young actresses. As a little girl she always hogged the starring roles in re-enactments of movies; as a teen-ager she met stern opposition from her parents when she wanted to play-act for keeps. Her tribulations as a typist were anesthetized by amateur theatricals; as soon as she saved a little money she fled to London for "the most terrifying six months of my life"--25 shillings a week and job-hunting through the blitz.

Through fellow Glaswegian Paul Vincent Carroll (Shadow & Substance) she finally landed a job as an understudy in The Divorce of Lady X. The producer of her next show, East Lynn, proposed after three days' acquaintance, but she decided to wait "a decent interval," got around to marrying him three weeks later. Only this year she joined the talented little group which calls itself The Company of Four.

Critics were eager to see Eileen Herlie in something less artificial than Cocteau in order to check their judgments. Hollywood is interested in her, too, but she wants to "dabble quietly before taking the plunge." The big money does hot excite her; she lives quite comfortably on her -L-20 a week--top pay for The Company of Four--shares a house with two other women, a composer and a ballet dancer. The "horrible din" of their combined professional exercises doubtless explains why husband Philip Barrett continues to produce his road shows.

Like most gifted theater people, Eileen works every waking hour. Result: she is absent from the gay night life of London's West End.

* A play that Manhattan is scheduled to see this season--with Tallulah Bankhead as lead.

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