Dorian Gray

This review contains spoilers.

The Picture of Dorian Gray tells the story of a young and beautiful man corrupted by vanity and greed. After seeing the magnificent portrait painted of him by his artist friend Basil Hallward, Dorian wishes to remain youthful forever and, prompted by Basil’s friend Lord Henry Wotton, descends into a life of debauchery, his outwards appearance never changing while the portrait begins to decay. Director Oliver Parker’s 2009 adaptation features The Chronicles of Narnia’s Ben Barnes as Dorian, Ben Chaplin as Basil Hallward, Rachel Hurd-Wood as Dorian’s fiancé Sibyl Vane, Colin Firth as Lord Henry Wotton and Rebecca Hall as Henry’s daughter, Emily Wotton.

Oscar Wilde buffs and die-hard fans of his The Picture of Dorian Gray in particular may want to give this film a miss, otherwise approach it with an open mind. Oliver Parker and screenplay-writer Toby Finlay’s Dorian Gray takes many liberties when compared to Wilde’s classic novel. Much of the changes are circumstantial and do little to affect the overall plot; James Vane’s (Johnny Harris) way of death being an example, as well as the attic catching alight, but they do serve to alter the meaning. Dorian’s eventual slaughter of the painting can be viewed as self-sacrifice in this context, rather than the desperate act it is in the novel. His sudden fear of his conscience seems arbitrary given James Vane never appears at a window and instead runs him into a subway, perhaps to satisfy the appetites of action-junkies.

The actors’ performances are adequate (the best being Rebecca Hall), but the screenplay presents a somewhat shallow depiction of its source material. Gone are the lengthy discussions about art in favour of sex romps which delve into sadomasochism complete with blood and blindfolds- while not exactly explicit, the film isn’t subtle when it comes to sex, the abuse Dorian suffered as a child (revealed through atmospheric flashbacks), or the novel’s underlying homoerotic themes. Dorian is seen seducing everyone from an ageing mother to Basil in order to continue his lifestyle and keep his secret hidden. Ben Chaplin as Basil was an inspired casting choice, as he plays the part of the artist wonderfully.

At 112 minutes long, the film feels rather rushed and leaves pivotal character relationships underdeveloped. Such is the case for Dorian and his fiancé, a young and talented actress named Sibyl Vane (Rachel Hurd-Wood). We’re first introduced to her playing Hamlet’s Ophelia, a definite ironic choice given her fate, but the following romance feels contrived and its ending - apparently established with Dorian storming out after yelling “I do! I do!” when asked if he indeed loves Sibyl -seems unresolved. Further, the reason for the split is altered: rather than Dorian “falling out of love” because of her poor acting (a cruel revelation given her lapse is due to her being so in love), Sibyl and Dorian fight about the prospect of having children and Dorian breaks off the engagement, unaware that she was then carrying his child. While this implies a lack of want for responsibility in favour of the hedonistic lifestyle, it proves to be more sympathetic than Wilde’s Dorian. In this context, Sibyl’s suicide seems out of character and Hurd-Wood doesn’t fit the bill.

In contrast, Colin Firth manages to transcend his reputation as Mr Darcy and gives a fairly well-rounded performance as Lord Henry Wotton, a man who doesn’t practice what he preaches and instead lives vicariously through the impressionable Dorian. While much of the dialogue is a paraphrased version of the novel, Firth delivers his lines with callousness and a hint of wit which adds humour to the violence and sex-filled orgy. A definite kudos must be given to the make-up department, who aged Firth and all those except Dorian successfully and realistically.

The performance of Dorian himself is not without its flaws. While Ben Barnes is a good actor and I was able to buy his portrayal of Dorian for the most part, the screenplay leaves little room for development of his character. Given this, and a few wooden moments, the character isn’t entirely believable. Rebecca Hall however is plucky and full of life and seems right at home as the character of Emily Wotton. While Emily is a character invented for the film and does not appear in Wilde’s novel, she can be seen as the substitute for Hetty, the potential “redeeming” character; instead of Dorian resisting the want to corrupt an innocent country girl (Hetty), he decides to attempt at a relationship with Emily. However, whether this is indeed the case can be debated: Dorian was forbade to go near her by her father and his mentor, so the ‘forbidden fruit’ aspect may have been what appealed to him at first.

Nevertheless, as in the novel, this is not enough to redeem him of his past misdeeds. When we finally see the decaying corpse Dorian’s soul has become (after many ominous noises throughout the film) it’s a moving, growling beast spat straight out of an old-fashioned horror movie. While this choice may have been made to satisfy modern audiences, I feel it makes for a less chilling picture- the unease comes from not knowing, does it move when no one is around? The decision not to reveal the full extent of the damage until the end was a clever one however, as were the camera angles which force the audience to see particular scenes from the eyes of the portrait- it helps create suspense and discomfort.

All in all, Oliver Parker’s Dorian Gray definitely has its flaws, from the screenplay to the acting - and this is especially apparent when compared to Wilde’s novel - but on its own is an adequate movie, combining sex, violence, humour, a good use of colour and interesting costumes. And while the final scene may be slightly different from the original, Lord Henry’s ending line is sure to leave an impression upon the viewer.