Long knives drawn in witty Wilde drama
A million miles of rough road separates our current times from the days of Oscar Wilde. In plays such as “An Ideal Husband” and “Lady Windermere’s Fan” Wilde illuminates the gossiping, insincere world of London society, where a few careless words and suspicious glances could ruin a good woman’s reputation, perhaps forever.
Wilde suggested a world of gross hypocrisy where reputation meant just about everything. There was one law for women and another for men. Everything was black and white. Grey was never countenanced.
Well, things are perhaps less simple today. Views on sex have changed. Now wicked scandals have become seductive entertainment, offered up on Facebook, Twitter and the nosy pages of daily tabloids. Harvey Weinstein is just the latest horrific name in a long line.
What remains in both of these troublesome worlds however is a willingness of people to believe the worst of everyone, whether proven or not.
Wilde’s play, “Lady Windermere’s Fan,” a witty, elegant drama borne aloft by dialogue that sparkles, pierces this world of meanness and snooty insincerity, by focusing on Mrs. Windermere, an essentially guileless young woman. She is stupidly willing to believe the worst of her handsome husband and breaks open his private desk for evidence of his infidelity. She is certain he is deceiving her with the glamorous Mrs. Erlynne, an older
scandalous woman.
Leaving her young child with servants, she rushes off to find love in the arms of promising Lord Darlington, a charming cad of a man she mistakes for a caring lover.
She’s about to repeat the sins of another character’s closely linked past. I won’t say who.
Mrs. Windermere is not operating in the real world, you understand. That she becomes someone likable at the end of Wilde’s play has a great deal to do with his skill as a writer.
The sociological study here is a powerful comment on the destructive force of conformity and a society straitjacketed into far too easy judgment of others.
In Dundas, director George Thomas has found a mostly topnotch cast able to give the play plenty of fire.
There are, in fact, performances here that crackle with a frisson of expectation, wrenching them away from the ordinary aspects of this well-intentioned production.
Jennifer Graham as Mrs. Windermere and Dia Frid as Mrs. Erlynne have, for instance, a riveting confrontation that elevates the play to a high standard of professionalism. They play all intriguing levels of Wilde’s dialogue with absolute truth, giving this scene requisite passion and rage.
Similarly, near the play’s resolution, in a scene that will have you on the edge of your seat, Frid, Graham and Mike Wierenga as Lord Windermere, play a carefully calculated and riveting cat and mouse game.
If Graham is the play’s essential catalyst, Frid is the one who gives the work its heartbreaking centre. Bringing elegance, style and exquisite grace to the stage, she plays the outsider who must face soul-destroying choices.
Wierenga’s Lord Windermere adds presence and warmth to a character that might easily be swallowed up in the play’s intrigue.
Bruce Edwards as a bumptious Mr. Dumby, Nicholas Ruddick as addled old Lord Augustus and Daniel Gariepy as supercilious gossip Cecil Graham are delightful. On the periphery, Gregory Cruickshank as upright butler Parker, Rose Pye as nosy Lady Plymdale and attractive Caitlin Wierenga as Lady Carlisle, give small roles essential flesh and blood.
Then too, glittering Liz Inman as coquettish Lady Jedburgh is a lethal charmer, smiling lavishly at all the men while feigning interest in the women.
Unfortunately, Jared Lenover’s Lord Darlington hasn’t sufficient passion and charm to be convincingly seductive. More energy, warmth and cunning would help here. And Sue Connor Duliban’s Duchess of Berwick is not nearly vicious enough, choosing to see the character as some silly old meddler, rather than the cruel gossip that she is.
The stylish parade of elegant costumes created by Sally Watson and Jane Snider is worth the price of admission. Illuminated with little froufrous, sparkling diamanté and patches of eye-catching sequins, they suggest character, time and place. And thankfully the men’s traditional attire isn’t a letdown, creating the buttoned-up world of Wilde’s smug society.
Major cavil is this production’s lean and frugal set, devoid of Victorian fussiness and flamboyance. The play demands four very different locations, so we really can’t have the same graceful, gilt framed painting turning up in every scene. What was there a sale at Selfridge’s?
Given the scope of Wilde’s play, designer Peter Lloyd and director Thomas needed to come up with a vision that would work for a stage that doesn’t permit swift changes.
So, will you enjoy this production with its stifling attitudes to marriage and morals? I’d say yes. If you’re prepared to have some illusions shattered, you’ll be just fine.
Gary Smith has written on theatre and dance for The Hamilton Spectator for more than 35 years. gsmith1@cogeco.ca