Kings Theatre, Edinburgh
2 stars
On more than one occasion these pages have suggested that someone needs to wade into the ongoing heritage industry hi-jack of Oscar Wilde’s rather rum back catalogue with a pair of scissors and some imagination. If Matthew Bourne can do it with Dorian Gray, after all, anyone can. Can’t they? Well, not Peter Hall, anyway, whose eight year old production of this late work is franchised out in this copycat revival to Mark Piper.
Wilde’s merry-go-round of stolen correspondence, skeletons in closets and attempted blackmail among London’s political set may as well be set on a Russian billionaire’s boat as a capital town house. This is epitomised by Sir Robert Chiltern, bought off early in his career and now victimised by Kate O’Mara’s ageing vamp Mrs Cheevely. The arrival of Robert Duncan’s Lord Goring - Wilde’s vain-glorious version of himself – as some kind of Victorian super-sleuth soon sorts everything out.
Piper and Hall’s handsomely turned out affair, played fairly straight on the first night as understudy Paul Aves deputised for an indisposed Michael Praed, moves at a stately pace which borders on languor. The trouble is, while Wilde exposes establishment corruption, indiscretion, bad judgement calls and hypocrisy, he also colludes, condones and ultimately lets every character off the hook in his desire for happy-ever-afters.
Of course, these days all this could be sorted out with a few incriminating emails, a Freedom of Information request and a tabloid whispering campaign. It’s the equivalent of what brought Wilde himself down, after all, and if there’s one thing this play illustrates, it’s that what goes on behind the closed doors of the powerful hasn’t changed at all.
The Herald, November 12th 2008
ends
2 stars
On more than one occasion these pages have suggested that someone needs to wade into the ongoing heritage industry hi-jack of Oscar Wilde’s rather rum back catalogue with a pair of scissors and some imagination. If Matthew Bourne can do it with Dorian Gray, after all, anyone can. Can’t they? Well, not Peter Hall, anyway, whose eight year old production of this late work is franchised out in this copycat revival to Mark Piper.
Wilde’s merry-go-round of stolen correspondence, skeletons in closets and attempted blackmail among London’s political set may as well be set on a Russian billionaire’s boat as a capital town house. This is epitomised by Sir Robert Chiltern, bought off early in his career and now victimised by Kate O’Mara’s ageing vamp Mrs Cheevely. The arrival of Robert Duncan’s Lord Goring - Wilde’s vain-glorious version of himself – as some kind of Victorian super-sleuth soon sorts everything out.
Piper and Hall’s handsomely turned out affair, played fairly straight on the first night as understudy Paul Aves deputised for an indisposed Michael Praed, moves at a stately pace which borders on languor. The trouble is, while Wilde exposes establishment corruption, indiscretion, bad judgement calls and hypocrisy, he also colludes, condones and ultimately lets every character off the hook in his desire for happy-ever-afters.
Of course, these days all this could be sorted out with a few incriminating emails, a Freedom of Information request and a tabloid whispering campaign. It’s the equivalent of what brought Wilde himself down, after all, and if there’s one thing this play illustrates, it’s that what goes on behind the closed doors of the powerful hasn’t changed at all.
The Herald, November 12th 2008
ends
Comments