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When Dorian Gray first arrives in London he is an innocent ripe for corruption. He is taken under the wing of decadent hedonist Lord Henry Wotton. Henry’s friend, the artist Basil Hallward paints a portrait of Dorian that captures him at the pinnacle of his youthful beauty. It is while gazing on the painting that Dorian trades his soul for eternal youth. As he descends into debauchery, the painting shows every mark of his corruption, while Dorian’s perfect beauty remains undiminished. As a result of his heinous acts, he flees the country, returning twenty-five years later, when he tries to seek redemption.
There have been many screen adaptations of Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray” over the years, but this isn’t likely to be one of the most memorable ones. This is because actor-turned-director Oliver Parker confuses sex with sensuality. At every turn he has writhing bodies, bare breasts and sexual encounters. Eroticism lies in what you conceal and not what you show – gratuitous nudity adds nothing to the story. The same is true of his use of gore, which goes beyond the necessary. In combination with superficial characterisation and heightened production design makes the whole production look lurid. There is too great an emphasis on the decadence of Dorian’s life and not enough on the corruption of his soul. The central character’s descent into debauchery is too swift and any whiff of emotional depth (such as his reaction to his fiancée’s death) is swiftly curtailed so we can get back to the bonking and boozing.
The director doesn’t spend enough time developing the players beyond seducer and seduced stereotypes. So it’s impossible to care about any of them and particularly to have sympathy for the titular
devil. But despite opening the movie with a flash-forward to murder, Parker never effectively conveys a sense of dread and there are some clunking shifts in tone as Dorian changes overnight from callow innocent to debauched dandy. A few low-angle shots and some jittery hand-held camerawork isn’t enough. The pacing is swift but it comes at the cost of narrative depth, making the hundred-and-seven minute running-time feel excessive.
To be fair, the film looks great; shot in a palette of moody blacks and blues that suits the gothic stylings of the narrative. The production and costume design is impeccable; every frame is rammed with layers of period detail. From the oppressive interiors of the opulent upper class homes panelled in dark woods and furnished with oversized, highly ornamented furniture and bowls of ferns and flowers on nearly every surface. Not to mention the antimacassars, doilies and muddy oil paintings in heavy frames, where the subjects stare down at the room with distaste, if not outright disdain. This is contrasted with the grinding poverty of Whitechapel, which is a network of filthy, slimy streets riddled with crime and populated by doxies, pickpockets and murderers. The women are virtually upholstered in acres of fabrics layered over crinolines and corsets. There are heavily patterned brocades, serges, velvets, taffetas and daintily embroidered cottons and silks. They are all topped off with complex hairdos and fantastical hats that are miniature marvels of millinery. Those of lower classes practically burst out of their bodices. The men aren’t much less decorative – in sharply cut, form-fitting suits that are so constricting you can almost feel the choking starched collars. Flashes of colour are provided by dandyish waistcoats and luxurious scarves and cravats. But all the period detail in the world can’t make this more than a superficial stab at the classic tale.
The screenplay by Toby Finlay plays fast and loose with the source material. To be honest, Oscar Wilde is very hard to improve on. But Finlay takes some pretty big liberties with the essentials. He’s too interested in the debauchery, so skates over Dorian’s descent into immorality and the spiritual price he has to pay for every questionable act. His relationship with actress Sybil Vane is downplayed to the extent that it looks like a fling rather than the love of his life. Suggestions of an abusive relationship with his grandfather add a soapy quality to the story. Then there’s his great romance with Lord Henry Wotton’s daughter, which doesn’t even feature in the novel and has obviously been introduced to give the character a redemptive arc. But it does so in the clumsiest of manners, making the romance feel paper-thin.
The characterisation is overly simplistic with players divided into two groups; those who seduce and those who are seduced. The main protagonist alone is more complex and only because he falls into both categories at different points. When we first meet Dorian he is presented as ripe for the picking – a naïve country bumpkin agog at London high society. But the transition to libertine is too swift and you don’t get a strong sense of any internal conflict about his choice to throw caution and decency to the wind. Lord Henry Wotton is a decadent dandy whose sole purpose seems to be to corrupt those around him. Artist Basil Hallward is the buffer between the bohemian world and high society, acting as a moderating influence, which is why you know he’s not going to live long. Dorian’s conquests are largely faceless, including his grand amour Sybil Vane, who is basically written as a sacrificial lamb. New character Emily Wotton is a thoroughly modern (for the early twentieth century) bluestocking, who is meant to be the perfect foil for Dorian, but feels contrived. The dialogue fails to capture the waspish wit of Oscar Wilde and there are many leaden exchanges.
Ben Barnes doesn’t have what it takes to convince as evil incarnate as the title character. He does better in the opening stages of the film, even if he is playing Dorian as a stereotypical unworldly country boy. But he keeps breaking off from his misdeeds with flashes of puppy-dog eyes that are meant to convey his inner turmoil but make it look more like he’s afraid to be unlikeable.
Colin Firth is good value as Lord Henry Wotton, who he plays as an ill-tempered, decadent voice of dissent who plays with people’s lives because he has nothing better to do. Not to mention the vicarious thrills he gets from dissident behaviour. The actor is clearly having a ball throwing out streams of invective about all those around him. Ben Chaplin is fey as voice of reason Basil Hallward. Rachel Hurd-Wood is buxom and girlish as the simplistic lamb to the slaughter Sybil Vane. Rebecca Hall plays the part of the thoroughly modern Emily with conviction, but never manages to rise above the character’s status as a redemptive plot device. Neither Fiona Shaw nor Emilia Fox get enough screen-time to develop their characters beyond that of a busybody or an intelligent upper-class lady respectively.
The original music by Charlie Mole follows the template for the rest of the movie by giving in to excess. He spends most of his time smothering the action in variations on creepy and squealing string arrangements with either dark piano or brass. These are occasionally joined by gipsy violins or warm sitar and exotic strings when sensuality is required. Generally it is as overblown as the rest of the film making it appropriate to the production but somewhat overpowering.
“Dorian Gray” is a style-over-substance attempt at retelling a classic story. It fails because the director spends too much time on sex and recreating the gothic look, without paying sufficient attention to his performers or the plot. To be honest the writing doesn’t help, undermining any chance of tension or proper character development. The acting is hampered by a critical miscasting in the central role which cannot be compensated for by a solid supporting cast. I thought it missed the point by focussing on the boobs and booze decadence instead of the psychological horror of a man given licence to ravage the world around him. It’s one of those movies that will probably be more popular with those who don’t know the book and have no intention of reading it.
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Drama - Original Language: English - Classification: 12 years and over - Starring: Shelagh Fraser, Barbara Flynn, Keith Drinkel, Felicity Kendal, Pam Ferris, Colin Douglas
Production Year: 2004 - Drama - Director: Nick Cassavetes - Original Language: English - Classification: 15 years and over, 12 years and over - Starring: Rachel McAdams, Ryan Gosling, Gena Rowlands
Production Year: 1995 - Drama - Director: Pat O'Connor - Original Language: English - Classification: 12 years and over, 15 years and over - Starring: Geraldine O'Rawe, Colin Firth, Saffron Burrows, Minnie Driver, Chris O'Donnell
Advantages: Some good performances, incredible setting and memorable scenes Disadvantages: Some poor performances, drags on for a bit too long, a bit gross in places
MizzMolko 20.11.2009 (20.11.2009)
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