Wilde at Heart

Photo Link - The Guardian

I'm having somewhat of a Wilde 'feast' at the moment.

Having developed a serious fondness for his plays over the years, as well as a genuine fascination for the man, and his foibles - I have garnered a hat-trick of Wilde this Autumn / Winter.

Starting with the London Classic Theatre production of 'Earnest' - a robust, charming and hugely entertaining version - followed by 'Judas Kiss' - and culminating in 'Windermere's Fan' at the end of next month.  This will be a Bruiser Theatre Company production, and, having enjoyed their Bertolt Brecht offering two years ago, I have every confidence it will be a star-turn.

However this post must be dedicated to the extraordinary experience that was 'Judas'... which I am still digesting.  Having petitioned family and friends to attend the David Hare play last night, I was more than mildly excited to see Rupert Everett [who I had loved as Algie and Lord Arthur Goring] - and I can say, without hesitation, I was not disappointed.  I was, in fact, welded to my seat.

There are many great performances, however the night belongs to Everett's Wilde and Freddie Fox, who played Bosie with fervour and dedication.  To encapsulate the chief machinations of the play in a blog is to serve it an injustice.  Those of you with any interest in Wilde or simply a tendency towards wishing to see this play - just do it.

Though the ultimate story is Wilde's final betrayal, it is its gradual depiction that unfolds before the audience, amid trademark Wilde wit and stunning dialogue.

The excess and unreality of Wilde's existence at a time when it was becoming increasingly clear that he was almost certainly sealing his own fate, is illuminated in the first act.  Bosie's duplicitous, narcissistic, nature is superbly acted alongside a blinkered but resilient and unflinching Wilde.  It's a heady concoction.

Suffice to say that the darkness of Wilde's existence in Naples could not be illustrated more clearly - its bleakness is devastating - and Everett's precise execution of this shambling, resigned man is heartbreaking.

Reading the programme note after the play last night, a question his grandson, Merlin Holland says he wishes he could ask of  his grandfather is, simply,  "why?".  "Judas Kiss" perhaps doesn't elucidate the answer, but it certainly provides an exquisitely rich depiction of the backdrop to the decision.