Wilde characters enjoying themselves
The audience broke out into applause twice during the opening performance of Lezlie Wade’s production of “An Ideal Husband,” Oscar Wilde’s
1889 comedy about hypocritical moralities in high-society London. Both were for scene transitions.
Executed in full view of the audience, Wade unleashes a stream of moving bodies that float from set piece to set piece — carefully moving a chair, piling an assortment of papers, picking up a bend in perfect unison — as classical music plays overhead. The set itself also moves — backdrops fly and secret panels turn or slide to reveal new furnishings hidden behind.
Such choreography must rival the musicals sharing the bill at this summer’s Stratford Festival, which makes sense, given that Wade is typically known for her work in musical theatre.
Following a disappointing “HMS Pinafore” with a confusing meta-theatrical frame last season, Wade’s mantra this year seems to be clarity, precision and fun (within the restraints of formal life, of course).
In her direction of “An Ideal Husband,” Wade delivers a singing comedy, one that leans into Wilde’s renowned ripostes, making room for them even in the script’s more dour moments.
Though the play is known for its potentially problematic discrepancies between glee and gloom, Wade’s lighthearted sheen on the play makes its own moving parts work together nearly as well as her transitions. A rising politician, Sir Robert Chiltern’s (Tim Campbell, reprising his charming public figure conservatism after 2016’s political role in Hannah Moscovitch’s “Bunny”) professional future is threatened by the arrival of the ever mysterious, ever witty Mrs. Cheveley (Bahareh Yaraghi) — if he doesn’t use his position to help her save a large investment, she’ll reveal the shameful source of his early fortune.
But the secret also risks his marriage to the obstinately moralistic Gertrude (Sophia Walker), who holds Robert up as “an ideal husband” (get it?).
The chasm in the play exists between this serious dilemma, and the central figure of the Chilterns’ close friend, Lord Arthur Goring (Brad Hodder) — a carefree dandy who, when not trying to use his wit to solve his friends’ problems, mostly gossips and avoids his father’s (Joseph Ziegler) orders to end his bachelor lifestyle. But his distaste for societal norms and Gertrude’s morality doesn’t stop him from being the most objectively “good” character in the play.
Despite the gravity that hindsight gives this story about blackmail, public shame and hypocritical socialites — produced shortly before Wilde’s secret relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas was outed and resulted in public scandal, professional ruin and a two-year jail sentence — Wade’s production keeps its light tone by presenting a group of characters who, despite their predicaments, seem to be enjoying themselves, thank you very much.
Yaraghi’s Mrs. Cheveley isn’t perturbed by her potential financial ruin, she’s practically chuffed at the opportunity to pull a fast one on a powerful man (and show up Gertrude, her former schoolmate rival, while she’s at it).
On the opposite spectrum, Walker gives Gertrude a selfsatisfied glee when at her most scrupulous, revealing her attitudes to be driven less by a duty to humanity but a desire for superiority.
And though he’s the most obviously pained, Campbell’s Robert plays the part of a regretful man but lets his true lack of remorse shine through and ultimately his ambition wins.
Goring, in fact, has some of the most pained moments of everyone — in the play’s opening scene, at the Chilterns’ political party, Hodder’s performance was surprisingly stiff as the female guests (including Robert’s sister Mabel, a bubbling Zara Jestadt, the true object of his affection) fawned over him.
But in the comfort of his friends, Hodder lets Goring’s flare run wild in an immensely entertaining performance. As such, Goring is the only one who hasn’t yet been able to reconcile his true self with an acceptable public persona — giving the impression that Goring has his own Wildean secret that he’s trying to keep hidden (but this production isn’t interested in revealing it, either).