Brooks Atkinson.

“The Moon Is Down.“

New York Times,

8 April 1942, p. 22.

Even if the Broadway theatre had not been moribund for most of the season, it would be easy to like and respect John Steinbeck's The Moon Is Down, which was acted at the Martin Beck last evening. For Mr. Steinbeck is telling a calm and reasonable story about the immortality of freedom in terms of a tiny village— probably Norwegian—that every one can understand.

Since the war has yet to be won in the face of terrible and immediate odds, The Moon Is Down is not a play to please the propagandists of today. It is assured; it is not rousing and provocative and it does not remind us of the stupendous job that has to be done now and tomorrow. But Mr. Steinbeck apparently feels that a free people do not have to be manipulated by half-truths and tactful evasions. Without raising his voice or playing tricks on a plot, he has put down some of the fundamental truths about man's unconquerable will to live without a master. It is a remarkably convincing play because it is honest in its heart.

Since he is dealing with basic principles, Mr. Steinbeck has refrained from defining his town as Norwegian or the invaders as German. But let us assume that this is the story of the German invasion of a small Norwegian mining town after the ground had been prepared by a local traitor. Although the young German officers are flush with victory, their colonel is a mature man who has tried invasion before.