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Undoubtedly there have been times when most of us have wanted desperately to get out of a dinner or a family engagement with less moral delights in mind.
When an uncomfortable social obligation of this kind calls it seems that any excuse would do, but few would go as far as the two protagonists in Oscar Wilde's
1895 play The Importance of Being Earnest who have both mastered the art of relative-avoiding to the extreme.
Their double lives are revealed in the course of the first act as John Worthing (Bernard Brennan) calls on his friend Algernon Montcrieff (Murray Deans) and
they reveal to each other the imaginary excuses they have created for themselves to escape tedious social and familial obligations; Jack by coming up with
a wayward brother Ernest in order to escape into the city when he pleases, and Algy, (Jack's frivolous friend in town), with his imaginary invalid
friend Bunbury in the country. At the start of the act Algy is once again called on by his ruthless aunt, Lady Bracknell, for another endlessly
tedious dinner party, and Bunbury is called to his aide. Jack's plans are however, contrary - he prepares to kill off his long-time imaginary brother
Ernest in an attempt to set his life straight for the forthcoming proposal to Lady Bracknell's daughter, and Algy's cousin, Gwendolen.
This marriage proposal, along with the witticisms that abound in Wilde's work, is the locus of the first act. When Gwendolen's love for Jack is
revealed to be strongly anchored in his acquired name, Ernest, as exemplifying the right kind of moral character in a man, the trivial dilemmas
of the play are set out.
Bernard Brennan seemed to me to have mastered the art of being a Victorian gentleman albeit one with a confused history and uncertain prospects. Murray Deans
made us laugh a lot with his mischievous tricks and mischievous looks, although I did think at times he was a bit too Bertie Wooster for the Victorian era.
The true highlight of the first act lies in Lady Bracknell's questioning of her potential son-in-law. She is the embodiment of the Victorian morals
that Wilde sought to ridicule at the time of the play's release, and through this she becomes the biggest obstacle to be overcome if a comedic resolution
is to be arrived at, for she does not approve of the marriage. Helen McCormack's portrayal of aunt Augusta was superb - her almost draconian disdain for
a boy found in a handbag at a train station (as Jack was), and the comedic timing of some of the most memorable lines in the play, (namely
"To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness") did real justice to Oscar Wilde's work. The part could almost
have been written for her.
The contrasts between and within Jack and Algy's characters delight in the second act; as the wily Algernon arrives at Jack's country manor in the
guise of Ernest to greet Cecily, Jack's young and beautiful ward, his carefree and hedonistic nature subdued in favor of wooing the young girl.
Unaware of his friend's arrival, Jack plans to break the news of his brother's 'death' to the young heiress Cecily, who has taken a liking to Ernest
through the stories of his adventures in the city. The supposedly grieving Jack arrives in his country-house guise of respectable young gentleman to find
his imaginary brother come to life in Algy; a fitting incarnation for his 'true' self from his town-life. The climax of the play is subsequently built
in the ensuing interactions when Gwendolen arrives to greet her fiancé Ernest, only to find young Cecily claiming an engagement with the same man.
In the interactions with Gwendolen, as well as with Algernon, Imogen de Ste Croix's portrayal of the young Miss Cardew impressed me - she struck just the
right balance between girlish innocence and deliberate womanly determination and guile. There was much good work with cakes and roses. Helen McGill
as Gwendolen on her part excelled in portraying her character as rebellious toward her mother, and yet very much like her in her single-mindedness,
echoing one of the early lines of the play "All women become like their mothers. That is their biggest tragedy. No man does. That is his."
The two women's verbal sparring is another testament to Wilde's ability in witty dialogue, and their performances sustained it throughout - not only does
it flow with the trivial niceties expected of society in its time, but it also abounds in the ironic absolute truths that are later recanted, only
to be returned to again at the end. A great example of this is Gwendolen's statement "Something tells me we are going to be great friends. I like you
already more than I can say. My first impressions of people are never wrong" which cues in the slow descent into disagreement between the ladies,
and ultimately the disentangling of lies and stripping off of appearances.
The final act and ultimate resolving of the situation sees the undoing and reinstatement of all of the lies, truths, morals, and values
stated throughout the play. As predicted, Cecily and Gwendolen start calling each other sister, but only after "they have called each other a lot of other
things first." The comedic resolution of the play comes at its finishing lines as Jack's true identity is finally found out through the excellently
portrayed stern-yet-romantic Miss Prism, and his 'Earnestness' is reinstated. Ian Recorden as Canon Chasuble did a fine job of looking bewildered by life,
love and anything else outside the critical analysis of Victorian sermons. Karen Walker as Miss Prism stuck the right balance between middle aged
responsibility and girlish glee. Nigel Oram and Richard Kirby as the country and town factotums looked suitably bewildered and exasperated at the
antics of the upper classes. Although the conclusion is so convenient that it was the only moment in the production where it seemed the performance
lost some of its comedic value in its complete obviousness (namely being able to locate the Army List at a moment's notice), the neat resolve does
fit in with the overarching theme of the play. It comes to conclude the perfect triviality of the entire episode at hand, and most of all the
triviality of the questions of morality and character that are so systematically juggled throughout Wilde's play.
Despite this obvious ridiculousness, what to me stands most in Wilde's favor today are the determined female characters and especially their
performances in this production. Jude Chalk and Bernard Brennan's set provided the perfect settings for the time - for there is no need
to try to update Wilde's play out of its own era. Moreover, the simple stage changes were admirably designed : the space was seamlessly and effortlessly
transformed into the different spaces of the town house, country garden, and manor house interior, facilitating the smooth playing out of the
drama, letting the audience focus on the wit of an undoubted classic. Haidee Elises and Clare Huxley's goregous and glowing costumes, Laurence Tuerk's
sound and Stephen Ley's lighting wrapped the whole play in a warm Victorian ambience. Overseen by Director Martin Mulgrew, a treat awaits the good folk of
Gloucester, Massachusetts.
Photography by Ruth Anthony
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