TLS: Friday, March 19, 1920

Provincetown, Mass.
March 19, 1920.

My dear Madden:

Many thanks for your long letter. Your dope on the "Chris" fiasco in Philly confirms my worst fears. I knew something like that must have happened. I knew from the rehearsals I saw that Fontane, Hampdem, the captain -- and even Corrigan himself, for that matter -- were going to be rotten. The last time I saw Tyler I protested to him against the first three I mentioned and got no satisfaction for my trouble. It was too late then for me to insist that my howl be heeded. It sure was hard luck in this respect that I was laid up in the hotel when the first rehearsals took place and there was time to effect changes. I didn't know, however, that they had cut the play so outrageously. It only goes to show that, in this man's business, when you trust a man to carry out your ideas because he is supposed to be your friend you are making a bum guess.

Since going over the script (uncut) up here I have seen that "Chris" has its weak spots, especially in the last scene. The whole love affair is also somewhat trite and lifeless. I wrote to Tyler before I knew of the play's failure and offered to rewrite the last scene -- I even insisted on it -- before the play hits New York. Then came his news of the flivver in which he seemed to put all the blame on the play -- based on the opinion of an Atlantic City audience. He might have known "Chris" couldn't go in Atlantic City any more than "John Ferguson" would go at Coney Island. In my first stroke of remorse at what I thought was the weakness inherent in the play itself I wrote to Tyler offering to write a whole new play around the old main idea of "Chris" and maybe have it for him by next fall. (I have a corking idea for this which I will write you about later) But now that I know that a great share of the blame for the failure of the play must be laid to overcutting without my consent, to bad acting and punk production, I don't see how I am under any obligation to do anything further for Tyler and I shall write and tell him so. For he has not yet produced my play as written, with an adequate cast.

I think the best thing for me to do is to play dead as far as Tyler's "Chris" is concerned. He has to give seventy-five performances, doesn't he, to hold it? -- and he is hardly liable to do that. By the way what is the meaning of "theatrical year" in the contract?

I have had a hunch ever since my first rehearsal that "Chris" was doomed the way they had cast and arranged it; so the bad news never even gave me a wink of disappointment. I was really glad when my wife's illness gave me a legitimate excuse to my conscience to beat it where I wouldn't have to witness the atrocity. For I couldn't do anything to save it, you know that as well as I -- not when I was dealing with two self-opinionated people like Tyler and Stanhope. When I did protest to Tyler, it did no good. He, of course, knew better than I did. So what could I do -- call in the cops? Get out an injunction? But I've learned my lesson. Tyler and my plays will have nothing to do with each other hereafter. I only wish to God he'd pass up the "Straw" and give me a chance to buy it back from him when I get the money.

I think there is but slim chance of my making Philadelphia before the death. My wife is still bed-ridden, very weak, and I simply cannot leave until she is up and around again. There are a million things to be done every day and no one to do them if I leave. Our Portugese servant and nurse is a model of boneheadedness who cannot be trusted to remember the most sever command for more than five minutes -- and, in these times, we are lucky to have her, at that!

Besides, what would be the use of my attending that massacre? It wouldn't teach me anything I don't already know and it would only make me so damn mad that I'd probably insult Tyler and everyone connected with the production. He isn't to blame, really. He belongs to the 1880 vintage of producer and anything in the way of a modern play is beyond him. It's my mistake. And I wouldn't learn anything from the cut play that I can't see doubly clear in the original script. I know just how it can be rewritten and strengthened, keeping its present form; or, what is much better, I know how a new play, ten times as good as the old in real dramatic strength (and in at most four scenes) can be built about the character of Chris, his daughter, her lover and the sea. No character, however, would remain the same except "Chris". I'd get some real guts into the lovers.

Now that this "Chris" matter is out of the way, temporarily at least, will you kindly write and let me know what you think of the prospects for "Beyond". It seemed to me that last week's gross was very good considering that the Little is such a small theatre, that Lent is in full blast, and that only seven performances were given. Am I right in my opinion?

Your bookeeping dept. has so far failed to send me the corrected accounts and I have had nothing from them for the last week of matinees or last week at the Little. I am anxious to check up my own computations which show that the first week at the Little almost cancelled my debt to Williams with thirty some odd dollars still to pay. This means that my first real check for royalty should be forthcoming as a result of the present week. So, although I am more than grateful to you for your offer of assistance, I can safely see my way ahead as long as "Beyond" keeps on doing its bit. I sure hope it will be able to stay at the Little for a good long run. It seems to me it ought after all the splendid advertizing it has received.

But it will be a very great assistance if you will get my royalty check off to me as soon as possible after you receive it!

I enclose herewith the Williams contracts. It is all right to allow him three months instead of sixty days for foreign option but I wish you would try and get him to declare himself on the matter as soon as possible. One thing in the contract I don't understand -- what "shall be paid on a basis of eight performances a week" means in the clause relative to special matinees. Does it refer to the percentage scale?

What I meant to say about your bookeeping dept. in my last letter is that they are deducting a comission they have already received as it was taken out of my advance before you sent same to me. As for the first five hundred advance, that cannot concern the American Co. as I received it long before my contract with you was made. Have them correct this, will you please?

I forgot to tell you Tyler sent me the clipping from the papers saying that I was up here writing "Gold" for Williams. The clipping was just pinned to a sheet of paper without comment. Evidently he is peeved. I told him something of the play -- less than I told Williams -- some time ago and he seemed eager to have a look at it.

Tell Williams when you see him next not to expect "Gold" in too much of a hurry. I won't be able to get to work on it until things calm down a bit and I get a little leisure time devoid of my present multifold worries. Once I get really started, though, it ought to come fast. I'm feeling fit and eager to get down to creative stuff again after all the wasted time of the last two months. So he can rely on me for the script as soon as I can possibly get it done -- and done right.

I sure wish to God now that I had let him have "The Straw" instead of Tyler. That special matinee in Boston idea gives me a severe pain. I suppose, in pure self defence, that I'll have to waste another month fighting it out at rehearsals -- and all for one performance! It really isn't fair to me. And the scheme he has for casting it and directing it is so absurd that it promises to beat "Chris" for pure bunk. But you can bet I'll raise hell this time. Isn't there any way under the contract that I could hold this special performance up -- I mean if the thing really got down to cases? Will you look and see and let me know? God knows I'm not looking for trouble but "The Straw" is my pet play and I can't let it be sacrificed to any man's whim -- least of all to serve as an experiment in starring for a flapper-actress.

Let me hear from you soon again, will you? It will be a kindness on your part to do so as I feel very much up in the air about everything.

With very kindest regards,

Eugene O'Neill.

P.S. Has Williams -- or have you -- heard any peep as to "Beyond" movie rights?