Here's a walk on the Wilde side that I can earnestly recommend. Sure, it's a fifty plus year old film, but it's still the finest version you'll find of this old chestnut by the colorful playwright.

Historical Background: Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde was born in Dublin in 1854. He went to England to study at Oxford University at age twenty and quickly distinguished himself as a man of great wit. He was singularly out of synch with his time, preaching and manifesting flair, style, and a taste for pleasures in the midst of the priggishly complacent and narrow-minded Victorian era. He gained notoriety before actually justifying such notoriety with genuine accomplishments, but beginning with the publication of Happy Prince and Other Tales, in 1888, the quality of his literary achievements began catching up with his reputation. He published his only novel, Picture of Dorian Gray, in 1890 and the Biblical tragedy, Salomé, in French, in 1893. His most important work, however, came in a series of plays that combined drama, social intrigue, and witty comedy. Most important among these were Lady Windermere's Fan (1892), A Woman of No Importance (1893), An Ideal Husband (1895), and The Importance of Being Earnest (1895). The last was Wilde's masterpiece, combining farce and high comedy in a spirited ridicule of the hypocrisies of Victorian society and the Puritan ideals of earnestness and sincerity. Ironically, the primary audience for Wilde's plays consisted of the same upper crust Victorian society that were the butt of his satire.

Wilde was at the height of his career, in 1895, with three hit plays running simultaneously, when he was arrested and tried for immorality because of a homosexual relationship with the underage Lord Alfred Douglas. In a twist as fanciful as some of those in Wilde's own plays, the man who ordered Wilde's arrest was British Home Secretary (and later Prime Minister) Herbert H. Asquith, soon to be father of a lad who would grow up to be film director Anthony Asquith, director of the present film. Instead of ducking the charges leveled against him in 1895, Wilde used the trial as an opportunity to lash out at Victorian restrictions against homosexuality and pedophilia. As a result, he ensured his own conviction and sentencing to two years at hard labor in prison. During his time in prison, Wilde wrote his best poem, The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898), and an autobiographical text now sometimes referred to as De Profundis. Wilde's finances, delicate physique, and creative talent never recovered fully from the ordeal of confinement and the adverse publicity. After being released, he removed himself to France, where he died just three years later, in 1900.

The Story: Jack Worthing (Michael Redgrave) is a man of means with a country estate and a townhouse in London. It was not always so. As a baby, Jack was a foundling, discovered in a handbag in the cloakroom at Victoria Station, on the Brighton Line. He was generously adopted by a country gentleman and given his present name. Jack has an 18-year-old ward, Cecily Cardew (Dorothy Tutin), for whose benefit Jack plays the part of a reserved and dignified gentleman. Since Jack, as a wealthy bachelor, also feels the need to frolic, at times, he's invented a fictitious brother, named Ernest, who is supposedly a cad and a ne'er-do-well, whom Jack must periodically visit in London to bail out of trouble. This ruse allows Jack to escape periodically to the city to sew his wild oats. In the city, Jack maintains his anonymity by assuming the name of his fictional brother, Ernest.

In London, Jack has a bachelor friend, Algernon Moncrieff (Michael Denison), who is even more mischievous and cynical than Jack. Like Jack, Algernon has a fictitious friend, a Mr. Bunbury, whose "illnesses" provide Algernon with convenient pretexts for evading inconvenient social obligations. When Jack arrives in London for the express purpose of proposing to Algernon's cousin, Gwendolen Fairfax (Joan Greenwood), Algernon agrees to find an excuse to occupy the attentions of Gwendolen's protective and domineering mother, Lady Bracknell (Edith Evans). Gwendolen is entirely receptive to the overtures of her suitor, whom she knows as "Ernest," mainly because she has always believed herself destined to marry a man named "Ernest." Jack is now in the awkward position of having captivated the girl of his dreams under a false pretext.

That obstacle is minor, however, compared to the scrutiny he must endure when Lady Bracknell returns and discovers him knelling and proposing to her daughter. "Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture!" she demands. After sending Gwendolen to wait in the carriage, Lady Bracknell subjects Jack to the third degree, to test his suitability. "Do you smoke?" she demands to know. When Jack replies in the affirmative, Lady Bracknell opines, "Good, a man should have an occupation of some sort." Jack's financial status also stands up to Lady Bracknell's scrutiny. In fact, the inquisition proceeds without a hitch until Lady Bracknell inquires as to Jack's parentage. Jack, after all, is an orphan. "To lose one parent is a misfortune," says Lady Bracknell, "to lose both is carelessness!" Then, upon learning that he was found in a handbag, she repeats the offending words, expanding each to multi-syllabic proportions, stretched over an octave: "F.o.u.n.d.? In a H.a.n.d.b.a.g.," she regurgitates. "I can't have my daughter marrying a mere parcel!" Gwendolen returns long enough to exchange addresses and assure Jack (a.k.a. "Ernest") that she will remain devoted to him.

Fatefully, the caddish Algernon overhears the exchange of addresses. Algy is thoroughly intrigued by Jack's stories about his pure and innocent 18-year-old ward, and would like nothing more than to seduce her, but Algernon is the last man in the world that Jack wants his lovely ward to encounter. Jack had been very carefully to keep her whereabouts from Algernon's awareness, but now the cat is out of the bag. Algy heads off to Jack's country home where he presents himself as Jack's indolent brother, Ernest. There, he easily sweet-talks the naïve Cecily, all the more readily because she has long fantasized a romantic relationship with Jack's mysterious brother. In fact, her diary is stuffed to the brim with detailed entries about her engagement to the Ernest of her imagination, a later breach in their relationship, and a subsequent reconciliation. Like Gwendolen, Cecily believes herself fated to marry "Ernest," who is, in reality, Algernon.

Well, such a muddled state can't persist. There are two young ladies both believing themselves engaged to "Ernest Worthing," when, in fact, there is no such person. Jack arrives home and confronts Algernon, who is playing at being "Ernest." Then, Gwendolen arrives and disputes with Cecily about which of them has the better claim to the affections of "Ernest." Soon enough, even the fox, herself, enters the henhouse, in the form of Lady Bracknell, who arrives in pursuit of her daughter. Each of the two young men try to line up the local parson, Canon Chasuble (Miles Malleson), with the idea of being Christened or re-Christened "Ernest." Cecily's governess, the elderly Miss Letitia Prism (Margaret Rutherford) tries hopelessly to keep Cecily's mind on her German translations, though her own mind is wandering to thoughts of strolling with the impish Chasuble. Gradually, by a set of improbable twists and turns, in the best tradition of good farce, order ultimately emerges from the chaos and the romantically correct couples are duly formed and identities sorted out.

Themes: The Importance of Being Earnest provides multiple thematic levels on which it can be understood. One can enjoy it simply as pleasant farce, with its comedy of manners and gentle humor, mostly aimed pointedly at the foibles of the various social classes. Beneath that charming surface, however, Wilde is also about the business of satirical potshots at the hypocrisies and absurdities of Victorian England. Throughout the play, for example, the upper class characters openly acknowledge the general worthlessness of their existences, in which, for example, "smoking" is the closest thing to an "occupation" that many of them will ever have. Wilde subtitled his play "A Trivial Comedy for Serious People," which indeed it was. The play was trivial amusement on the surface, while satirizing the overly pompous and self-important class of people occupying the theater seats.

At still another level, one can view certain aspects of the play as veiled references to Wilde's homosexual lifestyle, which was still largely closeted at the time the play was written and initially performed. Both of the young roughish men, for example, have imaginary ("secret") friends ("homosexual partners") whom they utilize in order to evade unwanted social obligations ("heterosexual norms"). The term "Bunburying" probably had another meaning altogether in Wilde's private vocabulary.

Production Values: Wilde's skillfully crafted play is alive with bon mots and witticisms sure to delight any lover of language. The delightful dialog is what gives flight to this play, but underneath all of the deft wordplay and misunderstandings lurks some of the frothiest satire you'll ever encounter. Wilde enjoyed nothing more than gently tweaking the foibles of his audience and then being cheering loudly for doing so. Anthony Asquith made the wise decision to let the play speak for itself. The play is "opened up" for cinematic purposes only to the extent of some judicious use of close-ups and the relocation of some scenes from parlor or drawing room settings to exterior gardens. Otherwise, Asquith retains the theatrical quality of the play, even to the extent of beginning the film by having two theatergoers take their seats in a box as a red curtain rises. Asquith continues the curtain motif by briefly lowering the same red curtain at the end of each of the three acts of the original play. Asquith allows viewers to experience the play as though attending a theater production back in the Victorian England of 1895.

Asquith and his team do an excellent job reproducing the period through both costumes and décor. If Lady Bracknell's outfits seem sometimes over-the-top, it is entirely in keeping with Wilde's flamboyant sense of style. It is Lady Bracknell, after all, who most often speaks the lines that represent Wilde's own take on things.

The casting for this film is darn near perfect. Edith Evans is the Lady Bracknell against which all others will be eternally measured. She has many of the play's best lines and delivers them with an imperious pomposity that is hilarious. Evans had played the role many times on stage, over the course of thirty years, and certainly has the part down cold. She overshadows the rest of the fine cast whenever she is present. Her other film work included Look Back in Anger (1959), The Nun's Story (1959), Tom Jones (1963), and Scrooge (1970). Margaret Rutherford is also something of a scene-stealer in the relatively minor role of Miss Prism. She also appeared in Blithe Spirit (1945), Passport to Pimlico (1949), I'm All Right Jack (1959), and Chimes at Midnight (1966). Opposite her, Miles Malleson is adorable as Canon Chasuble. Richard Wattis does a great job as Worthing's butler.

The four young principles are excellent as well. I thought Michael Denison's performance, as the delightful scamp Algernon, the best of the four lead performances, though I'm sure other viewers might disagree. He had previously appeared in The Music Box (1951). Michael Redgrave demonstrates that every successful farce requires a good straight man, playing the role of Jack with calculated restraint. Between the two young ladies, I preferred Dorothy Tutin's Cecily to Joan Greenwood throaty Gwendolen, though some reviewers have that comparison the other way around. Tutin appeared, in the same year, in The Beggar's Opera (1952), and Greenwood was well known for her work in Whisky Galore! (1949), Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), The Man in a White Suit (1951), The Detective (1954), Tom Jones (1963), and Little Dorrit (1988)

Bottom-Line: The Criterion DVD provides only minimal extras for this film, including the theatrical trailer and some still images of the cast, crew, and director, interspersed with a brief history of the film written by Bruce Eder. I've also seen the Oliver Parker directed version of The Importance of Being Ernest (2002), with the likes of Colin Firth, Rupert Everett, Reese Witherspoon, Frances O'Connor, and Dame Judi Dench. It's not bad, but the 1952 version remains the definitive rendition. Not only is the cast better (overall, though not in every role), but the transparent, no nonsense, theatrical approach adopted by Asquith works best for this old stage classic. The 1952 version is worth seeing for the performance by Edith Evans alone. How often does one feel an absolute necessity to recommend a film highly based first and foremost on a performance in a supporting role? The play itself is, of course, a lot of sunny nonsense, but as W.S. Gilbert once suggested in relation to the character Bunthorne (in Patience), who was styled after Oscar Wilde, "Oh what precious nonsense!"

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Good for a Rainy Day
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older