User Reviews

Marital life among the aristocratic elite of British society one hundred and thirty odd years ago. Pathetic and melodramatic, but the melodramatic that creates no empathy at all. What's surprising is that Oscar Wilde condescended - for monetary reasons probably - to write such a play, apart from the fact that the aristocratic elite is going to love it because it makes them moral and even human. Mind you, pay attention to the intricacy of the situation. There is no plot, just an intricate situation. Lady Windermere, an orphan in a way who was abandoned by her mother though she was told, and she believed, she died shortly after her birth. She is married to a very rich Lord. A strange woman, meaning a woman whose circumstances are totally unknown of everyone, comes up and she is taken care of by Lord Windermere, which brings up some gossip about his marriage. We know from the very start it is not true and there must be some secret that has to do with Lady Windermere, and sure enough, it will be revealed she is Lady Windermere's mother, right at the end and in total secrecy since only Lord Windermere is in the know.

The peripeteias of the story are trite and entirely based on the imbroglio created by gossip versus blackmail versus revelation versus secrecy. I am sure that the little dog of Chopin's famous waltz has lost his tail in his chase by now. Luckily it is rather perfectly well acted in a beautiful real natural, though mostly made of stone and brick, setting. But what is left after the whole story?

Women are wicked for sure but there is always a good spot somewhere, no matter how evil they may be. In the same way, women are good for sure but there is always a wicked spot somewhere, no matter how good they may be. But we can say exactly the same thing about men, and the whole rigmarole turns around and around like a Merry-go-round in a funfair. Has Oscar Wilde aged? For sure my dear, for sure. He has aged a lot and the dandy of his days has become the ghost of a dandy haunting the opera of our life.

The only thing that is left at the end is that all men and women have secrets and that they all lie when necessary, in the name of their greed, or in the name of their honor, or even in the name of their ethical goodness. Love is the most transient situation that lasts as long as necessary for some advantage in life to be conquered, be it some wealth, or be it a son or a daughter. Apart from that, love is permanent treachery and the truth is that love is blind and has to be as blind as an alley that rhymes with cul-de-sac.

In this play, there are a lot of mottos hammered into us by the setting, the acting, the directing, the music too, and of course the mise-en-abyme that is such a charm in Hollywood. But we are here at the BBC! Sure! Is there a difference between the BBC and Walt Disney? Of course not, and I am sure Steven Spielberg would be flattered to be compared to the BBC. But that does not add one gram of weight and one-eighth of an inch of depth to the play that is just quaint and entertaining, because quaint mainly.

Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

I actually thought Helen Little was pretty much perfect throughout. In the beginning she was meant to be a somewhat brittle character, charming but shallow. And so painfully young. I loved her understated acting...the woman playing Gwedolen in "The Importance of Being Earnest" in the same collection almost ruined the whole thing for me. And she just inhabits her part so well, and I found myself caring about her character so much, that I couldn't bear to finish watching the play the first two nights I tried. I hate spoilers more than anyone I know, but in the end I had to make sure she'd be OK before I could finish watching. And she was more than OK, she became a far better person than she started out. It's something that I've never seen done as well, I think, a total break with innocence, with the character remaining remaining good throughout, and stronger afterward.

But even, so she's not as interesting to me in the end as Stephanie Turner, playing Mrs. Erlynne. I suppose I knew this character would be OK, no matter what her circumstance. This was a more dramatic, darker, less innocent role, and I loved to watch her in both her light, flirty, Wildean mode and in her moments of revealing intensity, when she seemed to gain twenty years in a moment. Watching her switch back and forth was one of the amazing things I've seen an actor do. Her story, her character arc, feels incomplete to me in the best possible way. I hope she finds the courage someday to admit her secret. And see, that's what's so great about this story. I have that great feeling of being immersed in the tale even now, long after I stopped watching.

This literal translation to the screen of Wilde's play is rather stiffly acted, but otherwise presents it well. As for the play itself, Wilde indulges in his usual caustic and cynical quips about the life he saw around him in late Victorian England, so it can be called a comedy. That's in the same sense that Chekov called his plays comedies, and Saroyan called one of his "The Human Comedy". The difference is that Wilde didn't mind putting in a lot of "yucks" in his plays. But here, also, there is a sense of bitterness not found in, say, "The Importance of Being Ernest". Well, at least, he provided a "happy ending" for everyone, unconvincing as it may seem, but then "Mrs. Erlynne" was very clever as well as good.