BWW Reviews: THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY, St James Theatre Studio, June 15 2015

The life of Dorian Gray will be familiar to most of the audience: the beautiful wealthy young man carousing around the streets of late Victorian London; the portrait in the attic that reflects the cost of his debauched lifestyle while his own face remains forever unsullied; the no less extraordinary life of Dorian's creator, Oscar Wilde, who speaks through his characters. The challenge for any stage version is to avoid the kind of reaction one might imagine Dorian himself offering: "Been there, seen it, done it."

But classics are classics for a reason and this European Arts Company production (now at the end of a 50+ date tour) strips back the myths surrounding Dorian and Oscar and returns to the humour, the tragedy and, best of all, the ideas of the novel. It's no surprise to learn that Wilde's only grandson, Merlin Holland, co-adapted this version with John O'Connor (and co-opted previously unseen, censored passages too).

Just four actors play 21 characters, but it never gets confusing as costumes and accents signal new roles very clearly. Scene changes are a little clunky - but, hey, at least they're not adverts - and the basic set (as so often in small scale shows) helps the drama as it makes us focus on the cast and their words.

And what words! Lord Henry Wotton (whom Wilde labelled "the man the world believes me to be") gets most of the aphorisms, delivered by Gwynfor Jones in a camp style just this side of Kenneth Williams at his most outrageous. Jones is, perhaps, a little too ripe in the first half as he seduces Dorian edging him towards his own unbounded hedonism, but he impresses with Wotton's descent to something closer to nihilism in the second half.

Helen Keeley carries most of the female roles, but doesn't really have much to do, as Wilde, like Wodehouse, tended to make his women showgirl totty, ridiculous harridans or (essentially) men with female anatomy. This is no play for advancing the cause of feminism.

The transformation at the heart of the drama is carried by Basil Hallward, painter and the man Oscar "believed himself to be", who makes Dorian, the man Wilde "wanted to be", his muse and (unrequited, probably) lover. Rupert Mason plays Hallward as a decent bloke, wrestling with his own feelings for Dorian and his disgust at what his hero has become (it's hard not to imagine Jiminy Cricket whispering in Hallward's ear at times). Guy Warren-Thomas gives us an arrogant Dorian, but not one without his doubts, only really striking an ubermensch disdain when posing for his infamous portrait.

I've read the book and seen ballet and other adaptations, but this version carried a power new to me and more than a frisson of horror. Maybe it's a growing awareness that the Dorians of today are still leaving trails of destruction behind them and it's the inheritors of Sybil Vane who are still clearing it up that adds a hard edge to the jokes and the follies. Bankers' bonuses vs Bedroom Tax anyone?

The Picture of Dorian Gray continues until 20 June at St James Theatre.

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