Dorian (NHB Modern Plays)

Oscar Wilde, Phoebe Eclair-Powell, Owen Horsley

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781788504928
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Dorian Gray – handsome, hedonistic, narcissistic – sells his soul for eternal beauty. Basil and Henry join him for the ride until it all goes too far, and the hangovers become murderous...

Oscar Wilde's only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, was a succès de scandale on its publication in 1891, accused of violating the laws of public morality. It immediately captured the minds of its readers, the spirit of the age, and the soul of a man with nothing to declare but his genius.

This thrilling stage adaptation by Phoebe Eclair-Powell and Owen Horsley follows one man's descent from glorious debauchery to epic self-destruction, intertwined with Wilde's own life story, his tragic persecution, and ultimate imprisonment in Reading Gaol. Its first full production premiered at Reading Rep Theatre in October 2021.

Prologue

Our three performers are silhouetted onstage. They look marvellous. Drag ball aesthetic. Category is: ‘Posing as a Victorian Sodomite’. They should have microphones.

As they walk the runway, they introduce us to the infamous Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray. Loud music.

ONE. All art is at once surface and symbol.

TWO. We are posing as three Victorian gentlemen –

THREE. Henry,

TWO. Basil,

ONE. and Dorian.

ONE. More specifically, we are posing as three Victorian sodomites –

TWO. Robbie,

ONE. Bosie,

THREE. and Oscar.

ONE. The Picture of Dorian Gray.

THREE. By Oscar Wilde.

TWO. Published 1890.

TWO. We all know it.

ONE. Or at least you’ve looked up the Wikipedia synopsis.

THREE. Portrait.

TWO. Attic.

ONE. Decadence.

THREE. Sin.

TWO. Et cetera.

ONE. We’ve been telling it for years.

Those who read beneath the surface do so at their peril.

THREE. If they knew who he really was, they would tremble.

TWO. Maybe that’s why we’ve been telling it for years.

THREE. Who knows?

ONE. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.

TWO. That’s you.

ONE. You’re welcome.

THREE. Or maybe it’s the author – after all, Oscar Wilde said himself that –

ONE. Dorian was the person he would most like to be.

TWO. Basil was who he was really.

THREE. And Henry was how the world saw him.

TWO. It would be nice if you liked it – but –

ONE. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is –

THREE. new –

ONE. complex –

TWO. and vital.

ONE. When critics disagree –

THREE. the artist is in accord with himself.

TWO. The reviews are in –

ONE. ‘Mawkish and nauseous.’

THREE. ‘Unclean.’

TWO. ‘Effeminate.’

ONE. ‘Contaminating.’

THREE. ‘Why must Oscar Wilde go grubbing in muck heaps?’

TWO. Five hundred words were removed before its next publication.

ONE. Wilde himself removed anything that might be considered… Well, gay…

ONE. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it.

THREE. The only excuse for making a useless thing –

TWO. is that one admires it intensely.

THREE. Oscar fucking Wilde.

TWO. A martyr.

ONE. A saint.

THREE. A sinner.

ONE. An artist.

TWO. A husband.

THREE. A lover.

ONE. A father.

TWO. A homosexual.

THREE. An alcoholic.

TWO. A genius.

THREE. A prisoner.

TWO. A slur.

THREE. A fucking fridge magnet.

ONE. Scene One.

Drawing room. London. Eighteen-something.

Basil and Henry stand, staring at the portrait of Dorian Gray.

TWO. Oh and before we begin –

THREE. Please remember that –

ONE. ALL ART IS QUITE USELESS.

ACT ONE

HENRY. So this is it – Basil.

Your newest painting –

BASIL. Yes.

HENRY. It’s your best work, you simply must show it at the Grosvenor –

BASIL. It can never be shown, Henry… it has too much… too much –

HENRY. / Lust.

BASIL. / soul in it –

HENRY. Whatever – He’s pretty.

BASIL. He’s more than that.

HENRY. Yes – he’s young – perfectly youthful – where on earth did you pick him up?

BASIL. A party – he entered the room and I knew… that he was… special.

He’s the grandson of Lord Kelso –

HENRY. Oh that filthy rich sadomasochistic pile of sideburns… didn’t he tragically banish his daughter – shame, I hear she was stunning.

BASIL. Yes the poor boy was brought up all alone in an attic.

HENRY. Quite right, children should be kept out of sight at all costs.

BASIL. How are yours?

HENRY. No idea… So tell me – how many times have you had him… sit for you?

BASIL. I have barely let him leave the studio – he is my muse.

HENRY. I can’t wait to meet him –

BASIL. I don’t want you to meet him.

HENRY. You don’t want me to meet him?

But – he’s coming here, isn’t he – you said –

BASIL. Please, Henry – Dorian Gray is my best friend. If you met him you would no doubt spoil him. So I would like you to leave –

HENRY. What nonsense you talk –

BASIL. Please.

DORIAN. Basil?

HENRY. Too late – You must introduce me now.

DORIAN. Sorry I… I didn’t know you had company –

BASIL.…Dorian – This is… This is Woots.

DORIAN. Woots?

HENRY. A bit of a nickname from the old Oxford days, know what I mean. Henry Wotton.

Charmed, enchanted and all that – let me touch your hand, don’t be shy.

DORIAN.…I’m Dorian Gray.

HENRY. I know exactly who you are, dear.

And may I say, Basil – the painting is good but the real deal is even more delicious.

DORIAN. Pardon?

BASIL. Nothing.

He’s just drooling over you.

We’re jealous you see.

We’re old and you’re young.

DORIAN. Hardly.

Okay, a few years –

HENRY. Decades.

DORIAN. – younger than you but really what’s age?

HENRY. Everything.

BASIL. Woots –

HENRY. Sorry – but he deserves to know exactly what he’s got. Or did you want to keep him stupid? Wanted to keep him a little bit dumb and pliable…

BASIL. Woots is a terrible influence – so don’t believe a word he says –

HENRY. Why, Basil, you know that you used to believe everything I say…

DORIAN. Do I have to pose for you, Basil?

HENRY. Pose?

BASIL. Yes, you stand here and we –

HENRY. Look at you.

Like a piece of me–/at.

BASIL. Art…

DORIAN poses.

Thank you, Dorian…

HENRY takes out a cigarette case or cigarillos/cigarettes and proceeds to smoke.

HENRY. I know you hate the smell, Basil, but I’m having one – Dorian?

DORIAN. No I don’t smoke… So… are you really as bad… an influence as Basil says you are?

HENRY. Well there is no such thing as a good influence, Dorian –

DORIAN...