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http://www.dcmdva-arts.org
"GROSS INDECENCY: THE THREE TRIALS OF OSCAR WILDE"
The Studio Theatre in the Milton
Washington, DC (202) 332-3300
October 28-December 6; extended to December 20
reviewed by David Sobelsohn
Staging a Cataclysm
"I have put my genius into my life. I have put only my talent into my
work."--Oscar Wilde
On Valentine's Day 1895 Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest" opened
to rave reviews at London's St. James Theatre. Wilde was the toast of London. His play
"An Ideal Husband" had opened the month before to an enthusiastic audience that
included the Prime Minister and the Prince of Wales. His essays had established Wilde as
the avatar of a new aesthetic paradigm, elevating beauty over propriety, facade over
facts. He had scores of poems and several short-story collections in print, along with his
still-notorious novel "The Picture of Dorian Gray."
In less than four months, it all collapsed. On April 5 Wilde was arrested for "gross
indecency with male persons." His arrest led to the closing of both
"Earnest" and "An Ideal Husband." The first jury deadlocked, but a
second convicted him, and the judge sentenced Wilde to two years in prison
at hard labor. He emerged from prison a broken man. Except for the poem "The Ballad
of Reading Gaol," Wilde never wrote again. His mother died, then his wife, then his
only surviving sibling, his brother Willie. Forbidden to see or even correspond with his
children, Wilde died penniless in a Paris hotel in 1900. He was 46.
"Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde," at the Studio's Milton
Theatre through December 20, documents the cataclysm. Moises Kaufman's script uses trial
transcripts, contemporary letters, press accounts, memoirs, and biographies to present a
historical reenactment of Wilde's downfall, punctuated by commentary from observers
ranging from Wilde himself to a scholar now teaching at New York University.
As directed by John Going, "Gross Indecency" is instructive if curiously
unengaging. Max Robinson has the heft, confidence, and arrogance for Wilde, although
without Wilde's charm. At times he seems pinched and unexpressive (perhaps responding to
Kaufman's published script, which warns actors against "disappearing" into their
roles on stage). Desmond Dutcher effectively portrays Wilde's manipulative lover Lord
Alfred Douglas, the agent of his downfall. With a few exceptions, the supporting cast is
splendid, especially H. Michael Walls in three pivotal roles: as the prosecutors in
Wilde's two criminal cases, and as Wilde's harasser, Douglas's father, the Marquess of
Queensberry. Without any physical
resemblance, Dutcher and Walls suggest a strong similarity in their ferocious, brutish
personalities. Steven Hauck does a fine job as Wilde's attorney, presenting a passionate
defense as if he really believed Wilde's denials. Christopher Borg and Cameron Francis
stand out as narrators and in a variety of minor roles. Designer Daniel Conway contributes
a handsome set, complete with large photos of the real Oscar Wilde and his world. The play
places great demands on the lighting and sound designers,
demands fully met here by Michael Philippi (lighting) and Anthony Angelini (sound).
Most importantly, the play helps resolve a mystery lingering long after Oscar Wilde's
death. Wilde suffered through three trials, but he himself instigated the first, a libel
suit against the Marquess for leaving, at Wilde's club, a calling- card inscribed "To
Oscar Wilde posing Somdomite" [sic].
Wilde had no chance of winning this action. For years he and Douglas had cavorted with
"rent boys," young men little different from prostitutes. Predictably, the
Marquess hired investigators who located several of these young men and arranged for their
testimony. Realizing what was happening,
Wilde dropped his action before the Marquess could present his defense. But the libel suit
had brought Wilde's behavior to official public attention. It was now too late to prevent
a criminal prosecution.
Why did he do it? For two years the Marquess had harassed Wilde, once confronting him in
Wilde's own home. An ignorant solicitor assured Wilde a libel action would succeed.
Douglas and the rest of his family, eternally at war with the Marquess, pressured Wilde to
sue, even promising to pay the costs of trial (a promise they broke). Wilde himself
figured he could charm a judge and jury; after all, he had charmed half of London--even,
on one occasion, the Marquess himself.
After his libel action failed, and prosecution loomed, Wilde had several opportunities to
flee the country. Although his mother and brother insisted he stand trial, few wanted him
to stay--not his friends, not his wife, not the government; even the Marquess was willing
to see him go. One friend had a yacht ready to take Wilde to France. Wilde refused them
all. Why?
Some have explained Wilde as a gay hero, struggling against a conformist society. But as
Douglas noted years later, if Wilde had wanted to make a political statement he could have
told the truth and embraced his martyrdom. Instead, through all three trials he
consistently denied that he had had sexual relations with men. The Wilde of "Gross
Indecency" resembles Bill Clinton more than Robert Mapplethorpe.
Moreover, making Wilde a gay icon encounters one small difficulty: he was almost certainly
bisexual. Wilde unsuccessfully proposed to several women before marrying Constance in
1884. After their marriage, when apart Wilde wrote her florid letters, with lines such as
"O execrable facts, that keep
our lips from kissing, though our souls are one. . . . [M]y soul and body seem no longer
mine, but mingled in some exquisite ecstasy with yours." These lines do suggest at
least some passion between Wilde and his wife.
For Wilde, it wouldn't have mattered either way; he felt that "What is true in a
man's life is not what he does, but the legend which grows up around him." And
therein lies the explanation for Wilde's
self-immolation: in living his life, Wilde was consciously creating a legend. Queensberry,
after all, was correct in both parts of his inflammatory note. Wilde had beyond doubt
committed sodomy; but he was
also a poseur, doing much purely for effect. In a letter concerning his decision not to
flee for France, Wilde wrote not of his expectations of avoiding prison. Instead, he
explained that "I decided that it was nobler and more beautiful to stay." In
later years Wilde's fellow poet and countryman William Butler Yeats, one of the few who
approved Wilde's decision, commented that Wilde owed "half of his renown" to his
refusal to flee.
On his deathbed Oscar Wilde told his friend Robbie Ross that his drama had lasted too
long. More than any other writer, Wilde had a keen sense of his life as theater. It caused
both his tragedy, and, as "Gross Indecency" reveals, his immortality. In the
end, Wilde made his life his most compelling work.
Studio Theatre
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