Joseph Coyne

Coyne first appeared in legitimate theatre in 1895, joining the Rose Lyall Dramatic Company.[5] The years that followed were referred to by Coyne as a period of "arduous stock work in drama,"[1] playing in several variety farce-comedies beginning with The District Attorney (1985), and The Good Mr. Best (1897). The work was hard and unrewarding, yet provided great experience.[4]

Joseph's first starring role was in Charles Hale Hoyt's A Stranger in New York at the Garrick Theatre in NY 1897. In 1899 Hale wrote a leading role especially for Coyne in the short-lived The Dog in the Manger at the Washington National Theater.[1] This was followed by roles in The Girl in the Barracks (1899), Star and Garter (1900), The Night of the Fourth (1901).

Somewhere in this timeframe Charles Frohman, who liked to go out in search of talent himself, saw Coyne playing "a very cheap theatre in New York" and knew he had found something special.[4]

Thanks to Charles Frohman's discovery, it was in 1901 that Coyne made his first appearance on the London stage, playing opposite Edna May in Frohman's The Girl from Up There.[5]

Returning to America he got his Broadway break playing the role of Archie in The Toreador (1902). Following that were a string of roles in which he played the "silly-ass" drunken English gentleman to great effect: The Rogers Brothers in London (1903–04), In Newport (1904–05), Abigail (1905), The Rollicking Girl (1905–06), The Social Whirl (1906), and My Lady's Maid (1906). According to the Biographical Dictionary of Dance (1982), Coyne became known for his drunk act and physical comedy: falling down staircases, over tables, and on top of comic leads. It was a typecasting that obscured his other abilities, but one that brought wide recognition.

In 1906, Coyne returned to England with Edna May for his second London West End show, as the comic-aristocrat Billy Rickets in Frohman's Nelly Neil (1907). It was here, on opening night, 10 January 1907, that George Edwardes first saw Joseph Coyne, previously unknown to him, perform, and recognized "the possibilities in this young man who could not sing at all, but who could certainly dance, and who could most certainly act. Edwardes saw Coyne as a new type. His pioneering spirit was awake; here was a complete change from the rather stiff, if handsome and stagily dashing, young man whose voice, as a rule, made his success. This young man had no voice, but he had personality, he had charm, he had individuality. Here was a man who could play Prince Danilo in The Merry Widow as Edwardes now thought it should be played, not as a romantic hero of the light operatic stage, but as a lover in real life with actual flesh and blood and feelings." Edwardes offered Coyne the role that same night, meeting with him in his dressing room after the show.[4]

London theatre-goers were clearly as entranced by Coyne as was Edwardes. One newspaper headline proclaimed "Edna May eclipsed again [...] most of the honors of Nelly Neil have gone to Joseph Coyne." The article goes on to say that long after curtain call on opening night the audience continued calling "Coyne, Coyne!" and claim that, if not for him, the play would likely have a short career.[6]

The casting of Joseph Coyne as romantic lead Prince Danilo in his enormously successful adaptation of Franz Lehár's German operetta The Merry Widow surprised the musical theater world.[5] Not only couldn't Coyne sing, he was respected as a comedic actor and not viewed as a romantic lead least of all by himself. Coyne had never played a romantic lead, did not want to play a romantic lead. To quote eminent theatre historian W. J. MacQueen-Pope, who worked on the show with Edwardes and Coyne, Joe was "horrified" and "begged to be let off. But Edwardes was adamant. He told Coyne to leave it to him. 'You are going to be an enormous success, Joe,' he said; 'you wait and see.'

"But Coyne was most unhappy. Even when he discovered that he was to play it in the way which suited his personality, that he was not expected to sing some of the more difficult numbers, that he was to let his own ability and charm carry him along, he was still afraid. This was not his line of country at all, this Ruritanian stuff; he wanted to be slick and modern and American, as those things were understood in 1907. Even at the dress rehearsal he was scared stiff. He told [music publisher] William Boosey that he was in for the failure of his life. Boosey told him that, on the contrary, he was going to make the biggest hit of his career and would establish himself as a real and lasting favorite in London. Coyne shook his head dolefully. But both Edwardes and Boosey were right, for as a result of Danilo Joe Coyne was to be a favorite with London audiences until the day he died. ... But despite his enormous success in the part, Coyne never liked playing Danilo, and when it was all over said he was glad. ... To the end of his life he never understood why the chief comedy part was given to George Graves."[4]

Of his performance in the part Coyne said, more than a decade later during an interview in Australia, "Prince Danilo was originally played at Carlsbad by an eminent German actor, [Louis] Treumann, as a purely romantic singing-role. At Daly's I presented it as a light, irresponsible young prince, whose love scenes, always sincere, yet possessed a touch of quaint humor."[1]

Coyne's solution to overcoming his limited vocal skills was to recite lines in rhythm, originating the 'speak-style singing' technique popularized by—and often incorrectly credited to--Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady.[7] Edwardes loved the effect,[7] and that is how the show was rehearsed. But trouble was looming. The composer himself was coming to conduct opening night, and had no idea his romantic lead was a comedic actor who could not sing.[4]

During the first rehearsal with Lehár, Edwardes explained that Coyne had a bad cold and must rest his voice. Whenever a Danilo song was imminent Edwardes would tell Coyne to cut the number and save his voice. As rehearsals progressed Lehár got antsy, he still had not heard Coyne sing. Seeing his frustration building, Edwardes suggested that Coyne could recite the next number to save his voice. Coyne did, remarkably well, and Edwardes used the opportunity to posit that the recitation was so beautiful, feeling, and dramatic, shouldn't they keep it that way instead of singing it? Lehár was dubious, Edwardes didn't press.[4][8]

When, at the dress rehearsal, Joe finally performed by speaking his songs to the music, "Lehár was horrified. He stopped the rehearsal; he put down his baton. 'What was this?' he demanded. Edwardes assured Lehár that Mr. Coyne was a very funny man. 'But I have not written funny music," retorted Lehár. 'Herr Lehár,' he said, 'that man will put a fortune in your pocket, even if he does not sing your beautiful music.' The rehearsal dragged its weary way along. At last it was over. Lehár did not seem distressed, rather pleased than otherwise, though still doubtful of Joe."

First night ticket sales had not been as robust as usual for an Edwardes production. The first night audience was more quiet than usual. Lehár, who had not been able to do anything about the casting of Joe Coyne as Danilo, was still doubtful. The audience did not know what to make of Joe Coyne. He was not the romantic hero they were used to. He made his entrance "without dash, with absolute reluctance, with an odd walk, not handsome, not even good-looking, but round, a bit blank and, above all, worried. In Coyne's first number, he told of the joys of Maxim's, and of the girls there. Literally he told it, speaking the words, but speaking them so clearly, with such quiet meaning, and in such perfect time, that the melody behind them, with all the lilt of Maxim's and ladies in its dancing notes, was brilliantly enhanced by it." By the end of the first act Lehár was amazed. Though the audience seemed reserved and did not clap with typical enthusiasm, Lehár felt that Coyne had "unquestionably got his audience. He himself had felt the power this odd man Coyne was putting over the footlights."[4]

By the time the curtain fell the audience was completely won over. "The applause went across the footlights like a prairie fire, accompanied by roars of cheers, warm and glowing with pleasure and affection, such cheers as are seldom heard by players. The particular triumph of [Joseph Coyne and Lily Elsie] had not been gained by boosting or publicity; it had been gained by themselves and their talent, and by the understanding of George Edwardes. They had won despite themselves. Neither had wanted to play their parts. [...] It seemed the applause would never stop; shouts for the players filled the air" and there were many rounds of curtain calls for the cast. In the end everyone was happy except for [...] Joseph Coyne. Joe could not see what the fuss was about; he still did not like the part; he still thought he was rotten, and he thought so to the end."[4]

For all his initial horror around Coyne's recitation of one particular song in the original German version, Lehár came to realize "that this was the way in which Danilo should really be played. At all subsequent productions in other parts of the world he insisted that Coyne's method of reciting instead of singing the legend of the Prince's children should be followed. Seldom has an actor received such a tribute."[4]

The show ran from 8 June 1907 to 31 July 1909. "As Joe Coyne took off his costume of Danilo for the last time he said he did so with pleasure. Despite that cheering, despite that wonderful display of affection, he still thought he was rotten..."[4]

On the show's one year anniversary Coyne was distinguished as having not missed a single performance since the opening of the show.[9] He is also said to have been the first non-British actor ever to have headed a cast at London's Daly Theatre.[10]

Taking a brief hiatus from The Merry Widow in 1908, Coyne starred in the comic play The Mollusc, by Hubert Henry Davies, at the Garrick Theatre in New York, opposite the English actress Alexandra Carlisle before returning to London to resume playing Prince Danilo.[11][12]

Charles Frohman, in a cable to the Daily London Telegraph said of Coyne, with respect to casting him in The Mollusc, "...I have carefully watched Mr. Coyne's work, and I now predict for him an extraordinary future as an actor of great strength. Those are the words--an actor of great strength--way beyond anything ever dreamed of by his most ardent admirers. Few people could think of Miss Billie Burke in straight comedy, who knew her only in musical comedy. Now nobody who knows her in straight comedy can think of her in musical comedy. The same transformation, the same career and success, are in store for Mr. Coyne. Nor am I alone in this opinion. Hubert Henry Davies, author of The Mollusc told me and Coyne how thankful he is that America is to see his play performed by an actor of such rare technique and fine virility as distinguish Mr. Coyne's more recent work. In a word, America is to see quite a new Mr. Coyne when he appears in The Mollusc.[13]

In an article for Theatre Magazine entitled "Speeches That Made Great Parts" author John D. Williams said "The much dreaded, much maligned long speech only deserves its reputation when it is mishandled. Deftly managed it can be made the chief joy of the play. For instance nothing could much surpass the skill and charm of manner with which Joseph Coyne defines a mollusc in the play of that name. The speech contains scientific lore, the merriest sort of human observation and considerable genuine philosophy. It is long but its actual length is never apparent, because of the carefully veiled devices Mr. Coyne employs properly to paragraph it without actually interrupting it."[14]

Coyne followed this with a succession of leading roles for Edwardes, including Harry Q. Conder in The Dollar Princess (1909), Tony Chute in The Quaker Girl in both the London and the Paris companies (1910-1911), Teddy Cavanaugh in The Dancing Mistress (1912), and Sandy Blair in The Girl from Utah (1913), all in the West End.[5]

In May 1914, suffering from heart trouble, George Edwardes traveled to a German health resort. When World War I broke out in July of that year, Edwardes and other non-German citizens were detained under house arrest. Edwardes was released in November, 1914, amidst urgent appeals from the American Consul.[15] He never recovered his good health, and died at home 4 October 1915.

Coyne resumed working on the London stage playing O. Vivian Smith in He Didn't Want To Do It, a farcical play in 3 acts, by George Broadhurst and Walter C. Hackett (1915). Following that he appeared in the Irving Berlin's first musical Watch Your Step (1915), and another Berlin show, Follow The Crowd (Empire Theatre, opened 19 Feb 1916), which had debuted in New York as Stop! Look! Listen! in late 1915.

Other work in the World War I timeframe included playing Ronald Clibran in The Clock Goes Round (1916), Lawyer Gooch in Step In The Office (1916), and a local revue called The Bing Girls Are There (1917). He returned to musical theater in the role of Prince Paul of Perania in Arlette (1917), and Robert Street in Going Up (1918).[5]

In 1920 Coyne was engaged by J. C. Williamson Ltd. to star in three American farcical comedies at The Criterion in Sydney, Australia: "His Lady Friends," "Nightie Nightie," and "Wedding Bells."[1] He was in Australia for the better part of 1921 and early 1922.

Returning to London, Coyne starred in Charlot's English-speaking version of the French musical comedy Dédé (1922, André La Huchette), and in the London production of Friml's Katinka (1923, Thaddeus T Hopper). At the age of 58 he received fresh acclaim as the youthful attorney "Jimmy Smith" in No, No, Nanette (1925), and followed this success playing T. Boggs John in Queen High (1926).[5] Coyne's last appearance was in Apron Strings at the Vaudeville Theatre in 1931, in the role of Ezra Hunniwell.[16]