What themes does Kip Williams’ production of "The Picture of Dorian Gray" explore regarding the relationship between technology and vanity? How does Sarah Snook’s portrayal of Dorian Gray differ from Wilde’s original characterization? In what ways does the adaptation struggle with the novel’s complexities and queer themes?
Oscar Wilde’s infamous antihero Dorian Gray probably would’ve loved to have a barrage of cameras pointed at him, reflecting his gorgeous visage. This is exactly what Kip Williams’ tech-heavy new Broadway production does, with Sarah Snook (“Succession”) starring in all the roles and surrounded by a team of camera operators. However, despite some fancy camera work and close-ups, this production only goes skin-deep. Wilde himself was an aficionado of artifice, which makes the irony here all the more painful, since this production cannot find any depth in its surfaces.
“The Picture of Dorian Gray” — which played to much acclaim in London last year — creatively integrates video, with Snook often appearing on screen both in simulcast and in pre-recorded bits as other characters. Although technology is a ubiquitous part of this production, the piece has practically nothing to say about it, other than acknowledging its mere existence — technology is related to vanity, and a front-facing selfie camera is like a mirror. These basic ideas, far from revelatory, never come close to the trenchant critiques of hedonism in Wilde’s 1891 novel.
This is the rare revival that is worse for those familiar with the source material, who are bound to be disappointed. Williams seems to have fundamentally misunderstood the novel, or at the very least to have only a diluted grasp of it. While there is a general sense of fidelity to the plot, the final product feels wildly different from the original because the production is played as a broad comedy. Snook’s various characterizations, especially her minor characters, are so caricaturish they veer into British panto. Throughout, Snook hams for laughs, turning Wilde’s witticisms and epigrams into slapstick. The tone is well established but nowhere near that of the novel; instead of a gothic, nightmarish parable, Williams and Snook treat it as a frolicking, satirical romp.
Figuring out when exactly this production takes place is a losing battle. Dorian at one point starts using an iPhone, face-tuning a selfie and applying Snapchat filters as a stand-in for the infamous portrait, which ages while Dorian himself remains youthful. It’s unclear if this iPhone is meant to be diegetic, since the production otherwise appears to be set (like the novel) in the late nineteenth century. Later, though, two pre-recorded videos feature characters using iPhones; perhaps this is an exaggerated version of the story’s time jump, yet it’s unclear why the characters are still in Victorian clothes.
It’s a missed opportunity not to set this production in modern day, which could have allowed it to make more nuanced points about social media and its relationship to gender, sexuality, aging, self-image, body dysmorphia, and the glorification of youth and beauty.
The costume design (by Marg Horwell) takes a whimsical approach to the period, but eventually becomes gaudy and confounding, with Dorian ending in what can only be described as bad Elvis drag. This look is topped with a swirling pompadour, one of the production’s many hideous wigs. The most egregious is the wig Snook wears as Dorian for the first half of the play, a curly, blonde, clownish mop. It’s completely wrong for the character, styling Dorian into a petulant cherub instead of the drop-dead gorgeous, swaggering sex symbol he’s meant to be in Wilde’s conception.
Regardless of the direction any adaptation wants to take the story, it is vital that the audience is attracted to Dorian: He must have an undeniable sexual magnetism. Snook’s Dorian, though, has no sex appeal, and the sexual tension between Dorian, Basil, and Henry — the core triangular relationship of the text — has here been almost entirely eliminated. The very basis of “The Picture of Dorian Gray” is Dorian’s beauty; he is meant to be the exemplar of a Victorian twink whom everyone lusts after. Snook’s Dorian is not an aesthetic ideal — he is a joke, giggling as he takes a selfie flashing a peace sign.
Snook’s accent work throughout the play – which, to her credit, includes creating distinct voices for a wide array of characters – does the show no favors. Her Dorian sounds like a British child in an SNL skit; her “narrator” is a farce of a stuffy English voice-over; her Basil has a shaky stutter; and her minor characters have such exaggerated vocal inflections it appears the only inspiration was to get laughs.
The task for Snook here is by no means easy. However, in tackling it, she flattens most of the characters into meaninglessness, unable to capture their complexities. The wide arc she creates for Dorian doesn’t totally work, since Dorian is meant to be unchanging outwardly. Her performance gets laughs from the audience, but she does not inspire introspection or convey any of the deeper themes of the piece — instead opting for physical and vocal gymnastics, pausing for applause after each bit.
In a surprising move, changes and deletions in the text have made this “Dorian Gray” far less queer than its source material. An uninformed audience member might leave the play without even understanding that Basil, Henry, and Dorian are themselves all queer. All that remains is a single euphemistic speech of Basil’s listing some gossip and tragedies surrounding Dorian, lamenting, “Why is your friendship so fatal to young men?”
Crucially, when the novel was published it was seen as so explicitly queer that text from “The Picture of Dorian Gray” was used during Oscar Wilde’s trial as evidence of his homosexuality and supposed immorality and perversion. Just as Wilde’s novel was censored by its original editor, the play removes some of the most clearly queer passages, including when Basil admits to Dorian, “It is quite true I have worshipped you with far more romance of feeling than a man should ever give to a friend. Somehow I have never loved a woman.”
Likewise, Williams has made some questionable creative choices when it comes to the production’s non-textual representations of queerness. As Dorian goes on a depraved “odyssey of the senses,” Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” plays. The song, the first disco hit and an indelible gay anthem, here feels like a pandering cliche.
Later, Dorian visits an opium den, which Williams transforms into a modern-day nightclub, complete with techno, strobe lights, and a gay character smoking from a crystal meth pipe. While there is an argument to be made for the historical parallel, the fact that one of the only explicit representations of contemporary queerness is meth addiction does not speak well to the production’s sexual politics.
A key facet of the novel is its exploration of queer masculinity at the end of the nineteenth century, a period that saw the rise of dandy fashion and aestheticism. This complex nexus has been oversimplified here into the universalized concept of vanity. The production turns away from both queerness and masculinity, as evidenced in the casting of Snook.
Another illustrative moment occurs when, in the novel, Basil admits his love for Dorian and Dorian shows him the portrait, then murders him — a scene that can be read as a gay-panic homicide. Here Basil’s declaration of love has been cut and Dorian’s stabbing turns into comedy as he pouts in the mirror, and afterwards Snook does a lip-sync dance number (with camera operator backup dancers) to “Gorgeous” from The Apple Tree, complete with the lyric “There’s this avalanche of beauty in one woman and I’m it” and Dorian throwing confetti. It’s choices like these that highlight how far the production tonally diverges from the novel, and how little this production cares about queerness or masculinity.
A large portion of the show features pre-recorded snippets of Snook as various characters, and although the actress never leaves the stage, it’s hard not to feel a bit cheated. After all, we come to the theater for live performance. While there is a great deal of simulcasting, the use of technology is more rooted here in pre-recorded material, helping solve the logistical puzzle of having Snook play all the roles. This gets at a much bigger issue: This production fails to justify or explain why this is a one-person show or what is gained by this choice.
At its core, then, if the production doesn’t utilize its technology for commentary and is hampered rather than strengthened by its single-actor format, what’s left? The very premise of the production is a gimmick, a way to let an actor show off and dazzle the audience with some tricks. It’s an empty spectacle, though, and it remains unclear what – if anything – the production is trying to say other than that vanity is bad. Wilde himself wrote that we should not sort things into good and bad, but charming and tedious; this production falls squarely with the latter.
Sarah Snook Stars on Broadway: A New Chapter in Her Career
Sarah Snook, the Australian actress known for her brilliant portrayal of Kendall Roy in the critically acclaimed HBO series "Succession," has made a remarkable leap from small screen success to the bright lights of Broadway. Following the conclusion of "Succession," where she garnered international acclaim and a devoted fanbase, Snook has embraced a new artistic challenge that showcases her multifaceted talent and commitment to the craft—starring in a Broadway production that marks a significant milestone in her career.
A Journey to Broadway
Snook’s journey to Broadway began with her impressive track record in film and television. Her breakout role in "Succession" has cemented her status as one of the most talented actresses of her generation, bringing depth and nuance to her character as the ambitious and often morally conflicted Kendall Roy. Her captivating performances have garnered her nominations and awards, including a Primetime Emmy Award.
Broadway is notorious for demanding a unique set of skills from its performers, requiring not only acting prowess but also vocal strength, stage presence, and the ability to connect with a live audience. While transitioning from screen to stage can be daunting for many actors, Snook embraced the challenge, driven by her love for the theater and the opportunity to express herself in a different medium.
Choosing the Right Role
In selecting her Broadway debut, Snook had numerous options, but it was the role of Bella in the new play "The Fearless and the Unyielding" that resonated with her. Written by critically acclaimed playwright Andrew Hinderaker, the play is an exploration of fear, resilience, and the complex web of human relationships. Bella, a character grappling with personal demons while striving to find her place in a world filled with uncertainty, was a perfect match for Snook’s acting style.
In an interview discussing her decision, Snook remarked, "I wanted to step into a role that challenged me and pushed the boundaries of what I could do as an actress. Bella reflects so many aspects of the human experience, and I immediately connected with her journey."
The Challenges of Live Performance
Stepping onto a Broadway stage posed new challenges for Snook, familiarizing herself with a unique environment that demands immediacy and spontaneity. "The energy of a live audience is unlike anything else," she explains. "There’s a different kind of adrenaline that surges through you when you’re performing to people in real-time, which brings a heightened sense of urgency to each line and moment on stage."
Rehearsing for the production required Snook to adjust her acting technique, learning how to project her voice and engage her body fully to reach audiences seated far from the stage. The rigorous rehearsal schedule was a stark contrast to the more relaxed pace of filming, but Snook welcomed the intense preparation that ultimately allows actors to grow and evolve.
Reception and Impact
The anticipation surrounding Snook’s Broadway debut was palpable. Critics and fans were eager to see how her dramatic talents would translate to the stage. The opening night of "The Fearless and the Unyielding" was met with rave reviews, with many praising Snook’s ability to navigate the emotional complexity of her character with grace and authenticity.
The buzz surrounding her performance generated significant media attention, further solidifying Snook’s place in the pantheon of modern theater. She has already become a role model for aspiring actors, particularly those transitioning from film to stage, demonstrating that versatility in the performing arts is indeed possible.
Community and Collaboration
One of the most rewarding aspects of Snook’s Broadway experience has been the sense of community and collaboration fostered within the theater. Working closely with her fellow cast members and the creative team has allowed for artistic exchanges that enrich not only her performance but also the overall production. Snook emphasizes the importance of teamwork in theater, stating, "The magic of a live performance comes from the bond between the cast and crew. We’re all in it together, and that shared purpose elevates the experience."
Looking Ahead
As "The Fearless and the Unyielding" continues its run on Broadway, Snook has expressed her eagerness to further explore the stage in future projects. She recognizes that her Broadway debut is not just an end but a beginning, a chance to delve deeper into the world of theater and grow as an artist.
Sarah Snook’s transition to Broadway is a significant and inspiring chapter in her already impressive career, reminding us that true artistry knows no bounds. As she continues to captivate audiences both on screen and stage, her journey serves as a testament to resilience, passion, and the relentless pursuit of creative expression. Whether through the lens of a camera or the footlights of a theater, Snook’s talent is undeniably shining brighter than ever.
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