“I am the flower of the culture of the nineteenth century,” declared Wilde, and if his other works are no longer so widely read and his legend has been eclipsed by the terrible fall, no one else has yet written so perfect a comedy in English. That he was Irish says much. Forced to migrate to London, then the centre of all worlds at the height of the British Empire, to flourish, as an outsider he was well-placed to observe how the upper classes conducted themselves while they maintained their rule. The marvellous jokes mask the steeliness of his observation. On the opening night the aristocratic audience recognised themselves and roared with laughter.
And they’re still laughing. Garrick first-nighters gave this production a warm welcome, anticipating the many famous epigrams vocally and especially in the last act greeting every clever device with delighted chuckles.
This touring version has strong production values that include good sets (the garden scene is particularly successful) and some nice costumes, plus a cast each able to bring their characters to life with a single brush-stroke.
Jim Alexander makes bounder Algernon Moncrieff a spirited, likeable rascal while Tom Butcher as his friend Jack Worthing slyly sketches in the uneasy stuffiness of the Victorian hypocrite. Corinne Wicks as love-interest Gwendolen nicely catches the steeliness beneath the artful affectation of the dedicated husband-hunter while Sapphire Elia matches her as Cecily, a young girl who is far more knowing and determined than the idealised child-woman of the period was supposed to be.
Sarah Thomas as Cecily’s governess Miss Prism perfectly caught the note of dottiness in her determination to maintain correct decorum, and David Gooderson was a refreshingly sprightly Canon Chasuble, so often portrayed as a love-interest too doddery to be of much use to anyone.
Gerry Hinks almost but not quite upstaged the garden scene as the footman Merriman, while his butler Lane caught every nuance of the collusion required by a really good gentleman’s gentleman.
I suspect the principals would originally have had more cut-glass accents and languid drawls; voice was one of their weapons. Even today we can place anyone’s social origins at once by hearing them speak. Here only the excellent Dianne Fletcher perfectly catches the tone of a genuine aristocrat accustomed to being obeyed at once however whimsical and contradictory their edicts and demands. Ironically it is she who has risen from obscurity and so has a vested interest in pulling up the drawbridge after her.
For newcomers and devotees alike, a thoroughly nice night out.
