Spiritual Quote of the Day (Karl Rahner, on ‘Accepting God’)

“Wherever a person allows himself to fall into the abyss of the mystery of his own existence with ultimate resolve and ultimate trust, he is accepting God.” —German Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner (1904-1984), Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity, translated by William V. Dych (1978)

The image accompanying this post of Karl Rahner, taken in 1974, was posted on Dec. 30, 2017, by Jesromtel.

Quote of the Day (Brenda Cronin, on Why Sending Letters ‘Reveals Who We Are’)

“Correspondence reveals who we are, from the words we use to the stationery or card they are written on. It isn't only the effort of putting pen to paper but also the various steps of composing sentences, finding a stamp, addressing an envelope, and sliding it into a mailbox. The ritual of moving from salutation to farewell focuses the mind more than fingers scrabbling over a keyboard. In turn, clicking on an icon doesn’t compare to tearing open an actual envelope.”— American arts and culture reporter and editor Brenda Cronin, “A Letter Is a Bargain, Even at 66 Cents,” The Wall Street Journal, July 6, 2023

Theater Review: ‘Phyl,’ by Cicely Hamilton, From the Mint Theater Company, NYC

For three decades under artistic director Jonathan Bank, the Mint Theater Company has carved out a small but valuable Off-Broadway niche by reviving unjustly neglected theater. That tradition continued in sparkling fashion with its production of a 1913 dramedy by the British woman of letters Cicely Hamilton.

During her lifetime (1872-1952), Hamilton wrote with energy and conviction in several genres: journalism, fiction, and memoir. Often, this feminist castigated what seems to have enraged her the most: the subjugation of women. The governess-turned-rebel title character of Phyl (which closed this past weekend at the Mint Theater) represented an especially vibrant example of such wayward social freethinkers.

At Oxford University, where the play was originally set to premiere in 1913, that attitude didn’t appeal to its Vice Chancellor, who heavily criticized Hamilton’s view of marriage as an only marginally valuable institution. 

The author explained to a friend that “PHYL has passed the Lord Chamberlain, who did not require the alteration of a single line, but the Vice Chancellor appears to possess a kind of medieval power in these matters…you may make fun of a departure from conventional ideas, but apparently you are not allowed to treat it seriously.”  

Luckily the university kept copies of all plays submitted for approval—a godsend, because, despite acclaimed runs in Brighton, Edinburgh, Manchester and even Chicago over the following year, Phyl was never published. That archive was where the manuscript was found years later when Jonathan Bank, curious about scattered references to the play, went searching for it. 

He found gold in Ms. Hamilton’s heroine, Phyllis (Phyl) Chester, an English governess tasked with handling two bratty daughters and their snobby mother. 

“I’m shut away from men in my own station of life—whatever that may be—as I’m shut away from everyone else,” Phyl moans. “That’s what I’m paid for—to be shut away. I look on and see other people happy—and, O God! I do so want to be happy myself…”

Even Phyl’s much older sister, Cathy, offers no appropriate example, having sacrificed her own happiness to help raise Phyl after their mother’s death left them orphaned. The issue is forced when Phyl, pushed too far, blows up at her two young charges and finds herself out of the Ponsonby household.

An unexpected savior appears in the form of Jack Folliott (played with charm, subtlety and sympathy by Anthony Michael Martinez), a visitor that Mrs. Ponsonby had sized up as marriage material for her oldest daughter. At first merely fearing sorry for Phyl, he finds himself drawn to her

A relationship with Jack offers Phyl access to money that will buy her all the things she has missed for years. But what will respectable people think if they discover the two are living together? And can their love survive if this scion of a wealthy family discovers that his trust fund has been looted?

Hamilton was part of a British theatrical tradition, stretching from George Bernard Shaw to Miles Malleson (whose Yours Unfaithfully was adapted by the Mint in 2017), that questioned contemporary attitudes about marriage. 

But this suffragette differed from these males by writing with a bone-deep understanding of the challenges that a young woman with no prospects faced in a limited sociopolitical environment. She was very well served by the care and brio that the Mint creative team brought to this production.

Lily Ganser was a particularly vibrant presence as Phyl, and Martinez carefully showed how his character—one whose intentions the audience was fully prepared to question—possessed an inner sense of honor that matched his outward sense of humor. 

Katie Firth’s Mrs. Ponsonby demonstrated how her character, preternaturally oriented towards bullying, could be comically thrown for a loss when her expectations were overturned. Livvy Marcus, Charlotte Van Ledtje, and Tessa Bilmes were pitch-perfect as the young daughters already showing the baleful impact of their mother’s “moral” training.

At the performance I attended, the Mint continued its tradition of post-show “Enrichment Activities” in which speakers discuss an aspect of the production with the audience.

In this case, artistic director Jonathan Bank led director Britt Berke, dramaturge Amy Stoller, and the design team members Brittany Vasta (sets), M.L. Geiger (lighting), and Jane Shaw (sound) shared insights into the staging of the show, including how they used these elements to suggest Phyl’s psychological development and how they worked around the theater’s unique size dimensions.

Today’s theatergoers will not be shocked by Phyl’s challenges to class and sex conventions the way that its initial audiences were. But Hamilton’s feminist cry of the heart still had charm to spare in this typically handsomely, tastefully mounted Mint production.

TV Quote of the Day (‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show,’ on the Fallout From Ted’s Commercials)

[Anchorman Ted Baxter's been doing commercials and Lou Grant's depressed about the whole situation. Mary goes into Lou's office.]

Mary Richards [played by Mary Tyler Moore]: “Mr. Grant, what is it?”

Lou Grant [played by Ed Asner]: [Standing, dejected and defeated] “Hmmm?”

Mary: “What's wrong?”

Lou: “Oh.” [sighing] “I think Baxter's finally got me. I've gone over his contract, a dozen times. There's nothing I can do to stop him. First it was that tomato slicer. Then it was that commercial for that woman's product. I didn't even know what it was. I had to ask my wife what they used it for. She wasn't sure.” —The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Season 3, Episode 9, “Farmer Ted and the News,” original air date Nov. 11, 1972, teleplay by James L. Brooks, Allan Burns, and Martin Donovan, directed by Jay Sandrich

Quote of the Day (Archie Manning, on Why He’s Humble)

“I'm pretty humble. Of course, if you play quarterback for the Saints for twelve years, you've got no reason to be anything but humble.” —Retired New Orleans Saints quarterback (and father of two other retired QBs) Archie Manning, quoted in “What I’ve Learned: Archie Manning,” Esquire, January 2014

I vividly recall Joe Namath, whose career overlapped with Manning’s, saying that it was the latter’s misfortune to play for a team nicknamed “The New Orleans Aints.”

Let me put it another way: despite being picked second overall in the NFL draft as a rookie and earning two Pro Bowl selections, Manning retired having never played on a team with a winning record or that made the playoffs.

It sounds like Peyton and Eli share their father’s ability to laugh at themselves. Grandson Arch will undoubtedly need it if or when he transitions from the college ranks to the pros.

(The image accompanying this post, of Archie Manning attempting a pass during a Nov. 2, 1980 away game against the Los Angeles Rams, was taken from the 1980 NFL season and re-published in 1986 for the “Jeno's Pizza” football card set. The QB was under great pressure—a common occurrence during his time in New Orleans.)

Quote of the Day (John F. Kennedy, With Thoughts on a Prior Veterans Day)

“No man who witnessed the tragedies of the last war, no man who can imagine the unimaginable possibilities of the next war, can advocate war out of irritability or frustration or impatience….Let us pray in the name of those who have fought in this country's wars, and most especially who have fought in the First World War and in the Second World War, that there will be no veterans of any further war—not because all shall have perished but because all shall have learned to live together in peace.”—U.S. President—and World War II veteran—John F. Kennedy (1917-1963), “Remarks at the Veterans Day Ceremony,” Arlington National Cemetery, Nov. 11, 1961

TV Quote of the Day (‘M*A*S*H,’ With a Great Star Turn by Susan Saint James)

Aggie O’Shea, reporter [played by Susan Saint James]: “I like the way you are with the boys in post-op. “

Captain Dr. B.J. Hunnicutt [played by Mike Farrell]: “Thank you.”

Aggie: “There’s a certain gentleness about you in the midst of all this craziness that’s very attractive, and…Can I be direct?”

B.J. [smiling]: “Please, I hate the way you beat around the bush!”

Aggie: “Well, you haven’t said or done anything that can remotely be considered a pass, despite all the openings I’ve given you. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

B.J. [confused]: “I feel like I’m about three feet over my head.”

Aggie: “Just relax and gloat.”

B.J. “Hey, you’re really something.”

Aggie: “Oh, let’s not lose control.”

B.J. “Oh, you want direct.”

Aggie: “Yeah.”

B.J.: “You’re one of the most…You’re an extraordinarily attractive woman, but…”

Aggie: “Hold it right there. Back up one. Go over that first part again, up to the ‘but’.”

B.J. “You’re an extraordinarily attractive woman.”

Aggie: “Thank you. As for the second part, I think I know what ‘but’ means, so I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”—M*A*S*H, Season 8, Episode 23, “War Co-Respondent,” original air date Mar. 3, 1980, written and directed by Mike Farrell

Over its 12-year run, M*A*S*H featured many notable guest stars. But few made as great an impact, or were as fondly recalled, as Susan Saint James, who died late last month at age 80 of pancreatic cancer.

The actress had not yet landed her co-starring role in the sitcom Kate and Allie, but she had already become a favorite of TV viewers in The Name of the Game and McMillan and Wife.

At the time of the episode’s premiere, younger viewers of the series might not have realized that Saint James’ character—with her Irish-sounding first and last names, globetrotting journalism assignments, and considerable physical allure—was modeled on Marguerite Higgins, who had achieved the height of her fame with her Pulitzer Prize-winning coverage of the Korean War but has faded into history after her death, at only age 46, in 1966. (See my post about the journalist six years ago, on the centenary of her birth.)

Mike Farrell had already worked with Saint James on the TV movie Sex and the Single Parent, so when it came time to cast O’Shea, he knew from that project and her previous work that Saint James would perfectly fit the intelligent, free-spirited, vivacious character.

Inevitably, film and TV fans of a certain age find themselves wishing that a long-retired star will somehow find a material that will lure them in front of the cameras again and remind you all over again of the shining talent they displayed in their youth. 

For me, Saint James was one such luminary. After Kate and Allie ended its run in the late 1980s, she largely concentrated on her family—an emphasis reinforced by the tragic death of a teenage son in a 2004 jet crash.

After her death, I saw dozens of tributes to her, from co-workers to just ordinary people who met her by chance. All confirmed that she was down-to-earth, warm-hearted, and deeply kind.

But the most succinct summary of her might have been offered by her old co-star Farrell, who wrote: “Goodbye, Susan. You were a remarkable talent, a beautiful soul, and a cherished part of television history.”