The Picture of Dorian Gray

The world premiere of Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa's The Picture of Dorian Gray at the Round House Theatre gets its season going with a bang in a provocative modern adaptation of the novel by Oscar Wilde (running to 10/4). Reset in the world of London, Europe, and Los Angeles from 1988 to the present, the play also pays homage (as did Wilde) to the bible of decadence, A Rebours (Against the Grain), by J.K. Huysmans, a modernist novel par excellence that was much admired by artists of all stripes in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

The Picture, a two-act work, has been written like a screenplay with over 30 scenes, and the artistic choices have been largely determined (perhaps over determined) by the script. The rapidly shifting episodes are achieved with the aid of James Kronzer's ingenious double revolve mostly gray and paint-spattered set, which works spectacularly with the lighting of Daniel MacLean Wagner, stylish costumes of Helen Huang, and the sound, including original music by Mathew Nielson, which plays throughout; but the action is fully realized by the very patient direction of Blake Robison, carefully blocking the scenes and unlocking the subtext. The resulting achievement is first and foremost a spectacle. You'll have to decide whether it works for you (for me, I'm still not sure), but everything has been thrown into the hopper in the service of this play, which features many, many (many) actions which would limit the attendance of anyone under 17 and will challenge the mores of anyone older.

Aguirre-Sacasa's fast-paced, cautionary tale initially unfolds in the budding contemporary art scene of Britain. Basil Hallwood (Clinton Brandhagen) has painted a portrait - perhaps the defining portrait of an age - of Dorian Gray (Roderick Hill) which captures the imagination of Harry Wotton (Sean Dugan) and everyone who sees it, including the sitter. It is a timeless ideal that Basil has apprehended, a work that seems destined to remain youthful and frozen in time while the subject grows old and decrepit, causing Dorian to utter the fateful lines that he would give anything if it were the other way around. Be careful what you ask for!

Wotton, an entrepreneurial art dealer, who as Wilde's mouthpiece grabs and delivers the best lines, immediately seizes an opportunity to display the work along with the serial paintings, by a group of young artists, of a bullet about to penetrate the brain of a human subject. The sensibility, if not philosophy, of art-for-art's sake has moved from an era of contemplation to confrontation, with the aim of getting the audience into the act: the theatricality of an exhibition and lifestyle of the artist have replaced the work in-itself. The art, creator, and viewing public have all merged into one event horizon.

When Dorian meets up and falls in love with Sybil Vane (Julia Proctor), an aspiring actress, a recurring motif becomes plain. The three principal characters are trying to create works of art out each other: both Basil and Harry fashioning Dorian who in turn attempts the same with Sybil, himself, and later Karen Oliver (Ms. Proctor again in the last of five roles). The rub is the artist is caught in the force field of his creation.

The playwright is not immune to this phenomenon. Myths and their reworking abound. There's the obvious Pygmalion allusion, while the rapid shifting of Dorian's moods will have you thinking of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and the quest for eternal youth and the mantle of invulnerability will light up many storytelling pathways. What begins as a morality play of sorts, morphs into a tale of the supernatural and a horror story, and what starts out as a satire on contemporary art, skips to a send-up of LA and the movie business, a skewering of literary criticism, and a withering social critique. Along the way the bodies will pile up and your suspension of disbelief will be sorely tested.

Act 2 is a blur of somewhat disjointed activity as the author attempts to develop and resolve his own treatment of the tale while remaining somewhat (surprisingly) faithful to Wilde's storyline. All of the major elements are preserved - some clarified, others improved upon - while the echoes of the original epigrams are heard throughout.

Dorian is a difficult character to warm up to on any level and Mr. Hill has his work cut out for him. The character possesses a classic borderline personality disorder; and as a woman's (and man's) worst nightmare), he is The Psychopath Next Door. He has none of the saving graces of literary rogues of the past, say, Patricia Highsmith's Tom Ripley - you will not root for Dorian at any time - but you may be strangely attracted to his foregone fate, much as one watches an oncoming train wreck. He's not the Dorian in my mind's eye, and the potential charm of swaying those around him is neither in the script nor in the performance. Mr. Hill brings tentativeness to the characterization, and while in keeping with the blank slate of his persona, it is not entirely satisfying.

Julia Proctor's quintuplet of roles was certainly the most challenging of the cast, not made easier by the necessity of repeated disrobing. She captured the emotional depths of Sybil's betrayal, the empty hedonism of Christina, and the casting couch matter-of-factness of Karen.

Stellar performances were turned in by Mr. Dugan as Harry and Kaytie Morris as both Vickie and Ginger. Mr. Dugan is totally compelling each and every moment he is on stage. His world weariness, ironic posturing, yet always opportunistic demeanor are on display non-stop, a Wildean comportment worthy of the master himself. Ms. Morris is a most accomplished comedienne who wowed the audience with her droll and aspic wit as Vickie and fawning and seemingly brainless banter as talk show host Ginger.

Joel Reuben Ganz was a necessary ingredient in the first act, energizing the action with every appearance as Alan Campbell, one of the boys, and Sibyl's brother James. Mr. Ganz delivered the two accomplished working class portrayals with comic and menacing conviction: one who knows what he likes (Alan), the other who knows what he doesn't (James).

Mr. Brandhagen as Basil gave a convincing portrayal of artistic sensitivity in his life and love, courting then being thwarted by his muse. And Timothy Andrés Pabon rounded out the cast with his short but versatile performances in five situational character roles.

As a world premiere, the script and production will likely change and it will be interesting to see how it develops going forward. Nonetheless the decision to update The Picture is a most welcome one, and if not completely realized artistically, is fully justified. The script is ambitious, contains good dialogue (what the playwright selected from Wilde's grab bag of wit and what he created), provides insight into both plot and character, and does justice to the themes, especially the incremental problem of evil. Together, with the fine acting of Messrs. Dugan and Ganz and Ms. Morris, the outstanding design, and the opportunity to see The Picture reloaded makes this a recommended play.

Sound check: Moderate to high sound levels between numerous scene changes - some within scenes - with gunshots, strong emotional outbursts, and the use of some sound effects, particularly in the second act.

Program notes: Very good, with director's and playwright's notes, might have benefited from input from dramaturgy as would the script. Website needs a makeover.

Applause meter: Recommended, 3 hands; be advised the play contains male and female nudity, sex, drugs, and rock and roll and more

Runtime: About 2 hours and 20 minutes with an intermission

Photo credit: Danisha Crosby