Playwright: David Hare
At: Circle Theatre, in Forest Park
Phone: (708) 771-0700; $20
Runs through: Aug. 22
Its blend of social issues and salacious hearsay piques speculation to this day, in histories both scholarly and scurrilous. The facts are that Oscar Wilde, the most brilliant writer ever to thumb his nose at polite society, was introduced to Lord Alfred Douglas by their mutual chum, Robert Ross. The middle-aged celebrity and the handsome young aristocrat were a high-profile couple until the latter's irate father provoked Wilde to sue for slander. The trial instead led to Wilde's arrest for sodomy—in 1895 London, a crime punishable by imprisonment.
Opinion holds nowadays that Douglas was a spoiled society boy looking to annoy his domineering sire by flaunting his notorious lover, oblivious to the risks engendered by his obsession, and Wilde too smitten—or self-assured—to extricate himself. But while Wilde might be the more ill-used party and his fall from grace steeper in David Hare's play, it is Douglas' disappointment when his hero refuses to champion the homosexual cause that raises the question of whether 'outing' those unwilling to make the personal political is necessary collateral damage in the service of a Greater Good, or imperious infliction of martyrdom upon the innocent, if less than humble.
Hare's text has Wilde defending his position in language as incisive as it is florid—duties easily executed by Don Bender—but the role of Douglas is the more difficult assignment for the actor who must impose on his patently untrustworthy persona a degree of credibility sufficient to earn our intellectual investment. Jarrett Dapier does his best with what the playwright has given him, his industry further undermined by a plethora of supporting players so similar of visage and physique—to him AND to one another—as to be almost indistinguishable, despite director Michael Matthews' efforts to enliven the dialogue-driven action with plenty of casual nudity.
But it is no match for Bender's elegant phrasing and unwavering composure, nor for Hare's patently biased argument. What lingers in our memory are not Douglas' earnest—if indeed they are—pleas for legal reform and public approval, but Wilde's existential acceptance of the fate he has chosen for himself. In an imperfect world, you play with the hand you're dealt.