REVIEW: At London’s Grand Theatre, The Importance of Being Earnest captures the beauty of queer innuendo
iPhoto caption: Members of the company of 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' Photo by Dahlia Katz.
Like many a closeted queer teenager, I was obsessed with the works of Oscar Wilde. They were classics, and therefore not eyebrow-raising to parents and friends, but contained depths that I (myopically) felt were only understood by me. To my adult self’s satisfaction, the Grand Theatre’s The Importance of Being Earnest focuses on highlighting the text’s queer aspects, through tropes from 19th- and 20th-century music hall performances.
The play begins with “On the Language of Fans,” written by director Alistair Newton, a prologue in which Deena Aziz (Miss Prism) and Gwendolen Fairfax (Kaylee Harwood) provide a witty introduction to one of the show’s key props: hand fans. They explain, in a strict Victorian manner, how fans will be used to convey emotions (an upside-down fan conveys hatred and is to be used “sparingly”).
After this, the play introduces its other addition, Lady Stella Clinton (Billy Lake). She interrupts the action at various points to provide jaunty music hall renditions of Gilbert and Sullivan songs. As Newton put it in a recent interview with Intermission, the production’s goal is to use Lady Stella as “a challenge to… ideas we have about the Victorian period.” She is inspired by a real-life Victorian drag queen, and consequently puts the play in conversation with Wilde’s more explicitly queer historical peers.
Her first song segues us into the original play, which is about the attempts of John Worthing (Julien Galipeau) and his friend Algernon Moncrieff (James Daly) to wed women by assuming the persona of John’s non-existent brother Ernest Worthing. For both of them, problems ensue: John’s love, Gwendolen Fairfax, is forbidden from marrying him by Lady Bracknell (Claire Jullien), her mother; and Cecily Cardew (Mirabella Sundar Singh), Algernon’s belle, is the ward of John, who disapproves of their relationship.
What I find core to Wilde’s work is less plot than his dashing moments of wordplay, which the actors deftly deliver. The language transports us into a comically posh world where a doorbell can be rung in a “Wagnerian manner” and “[o]ne should always eat muffins quite calmly.”
George Absi’s choreography provides a visual match for the play’s verbal deftness; it integrates the aforementioned fans in tiny balletic ways which convey all kinds of things left unsaid. A particular high point is the exceptionally graceful, yet aggressive, fan battle between Cecily and Gwendolen for the affections of Ernest, aided by the earlier crash course on fan communication.
Daly’s performance is particularly transfixing. He plays Moncrieff as a dandy crossed with Bugs Bunny, replete with elegant, delicately posed hand gestures, precise steps, a foppish accent, and a childish excitement about his occupation of “Bunburyist” (in the play’s lingo, one who invents fictional people). Against Daly, Galipeau plays Worthing as an incredulous foil, perpetually driven mad by his friend’s manic tendencies. His exasperated reaction in a tableau that concludes Act One is a comic acting highlight.
Judith Bowden’s costuming and Michelle Tracey’s set design are deeply complementary. Each set has a sole colour, with the backdrop shifting from green to yellow to red over the play’s three acts (presented with one intermission), and almost all of the clothing fitting the monochromatic palettes. The two exceptions are John’s black mourning suit against everyone else’s yellow clothing, and the final scene, in which all the characters wear yellow attire against the red backdrop, except Lady Bracknell, who matches the red. This choice underscores Bracknell’s power as John requests that she allow him to marry Gwendolen.
The one aspect of the production that didn’t land for me was the usage of backing music during the core action. Instead of music hall piano, the production uses snippets of pre-recorded orchestral music, which function like Hollywood movie leitmotifs. For me, this clashes with the show’s strong choice to otherwise ground itself in specific music styles of the period.
As “On the Language of Fans” tells us, “nearly all the most interesting people speak in code.” On one level, this idea points to this production’s focus on bringing out the layers of queer subtext in Wilde, but for me it felt like a broader reminder of the peculiar queer beauty of innuendo. In a world where I wasn’t out, Wilde was there to comfort me with an aesthetic pleasure others couldn’t see. Now, I’ve been out for some time, and Earnest is with me in a new way, as a less lonely act — and, now, a loud celebration of the possibilities of queerness.
The Importance of Being Earnest runs at the Grand Theatre until April 12. More information is available here.
Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.
Gwen Caughell
Gwen Caughell (she/her) is a critic, playwright, and short story writer who lives in London, Ontario. She loves any work that is queer, difficult, or strange. Her (ever-changing) favourite writers/critics (at the moment!) are Sarah Schulman, Mary Gaitskill, James McCourt, Paula Vogel, Tony Kushner, Robin Wood, D.A. Miller, and Lauren Berlant.
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iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
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