‘SPOOKY’ TAKES ON a whole different meaning if you’re writing in a Victorian vein and the story is fresh with possibility as it is with startlingly daring nuance in a punitive homophobic society. Oscar Wilde’s only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray takes on fresh life under the directorial hand of Jade Bowers, at the Keorepatse Kgositile Theatre on UJ Campus, until 16 March 2025.
And as the strange Faustian tale of a portrait magically containing all the evil and evidence of ageing of the protagonist (Jaques de Silva) unfolds, so does the creepiness get ramped up. Oscar Wilde’s beautiful language and astonishing ideas are, on the whole, well-preserved in this piece, which should, however, have been edited down in length prevent the need for an interval. The work is complex. The mechanisms and ideas telling the story are difficult. An interruption of focus is lethal.
The chorus of this work, comprising performers from both the UJ Arts Academy and the Kwasha! Theatre Company, wins the day. They are beautifully choreographed and mainly articulate just the right level of shrieking witch howls and laughter to keep the work ticking over and entertaining and yet disturbingly off-key. The texture of their voices and their presences in dark unison evokes the kind of disparity created by Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki in his operatic and avant-garde contemplations of Hiroshima or Auschwitz, respectively, as it resonates with the opening of hell in Monteverdi’s 1607 opera, Orfeo.
It is, however, the role of Lord Henry Wotton (Andreas Damm) that is not played with the kind of sinister authority as it demands. Lord Henry is the pivotal character in this story, who plants that seed of immortal possibility into Dorian Gray’s receptive faculties. To do this, he needs to groom him with a mixture of seduction and superiority. This performer feels too young for the role, and also lacks in embodying the kind of bad influence that would be enhanced by a snake-like smoothness.
De Silva, as the central protagonist is convincing: well-mannered and naïve with a touch of ambiguity in his foppishness, but his painterly alter ego in the play’s audio-visual repertoire is not really as terrifying as you might imagine. That gender ambiguity is filtered through the work, allowing characters obviously of one gender to perform another, adding a particular nuance to an understanding of Wilde’s context. There is, however, generally a stiltedness in the overall conveying of the tale – which feels largely like young performers tripping over their tongues in confronting Victorian English and miens of the period.
With beautifully constructed costumes and an understanding of the grotesque in Liezl de Kock’s interpretation of Mrs Leaf, the maid, the work hangs together with narrative clarity, but the characters around Dorian Gray – with the exception of Lord Henry’s bath chair – don’t contain clear reflections on ageing themselves, which is necessary to thrust Gray’s permanent and unnatural youth into relief.
The work is extremely violent and sexual and these aspects of it are contained with a choreographic wisdom and excellence that is at once horrifying without being sexual, creating a sense of mad violation without being comical or beautiful.
Generally well lit, the work does comprise parts in which a row of lights is focused relentlessly into the audience at eye level. While this has a second-long impact that alerts you into the selling of Dorian Gray’s soul, there are lengthy moments of this level of intensity which blinds you, in the audience, needlessly.
The most unnerving aspect of this play, which is too long by half is, however, theatre policy. Audience members are not prevented from entering the space after the performance has begun, or of leaving during the performance to buy popcorn and returning, crunching and crackling their way back to their seats. The level of disrespect to performers onstage and fellow audience members, to say nothing of the work itself, which does require focus and concentration, is simply untenable.
The Picture of Dorian Gray was written in 1891 by Oscar Wilde and adapted for stage by Neil Barlett. Directed by Jade Bowers, produced by Karabo Mtshali and stage managed by Hayleigh Evans and Langalibile Mthuthu, it is performed by Andreas Damm, Liezl de Kock, Jaques de Silva and Sanelisiwe Yekani, with a chorus comprising performers from the Kwasha! Theatre Company – Gofaone Bodigelo, Jack Mabokachaba, Thingo Mcanyana, Andile Mgeyi and Londa Mkhize – and performers from the UJ Arts Academy – Tintswalo Masondo and Ally Roux. Featuring creative input by Roberto Pombo (movement); Mpumi Dhlamini (composer and sound); Benjamin Mills (lighting and AV) and Maude Sandham (intimacy), it is on stage at the Keorepatse William Kgositile Theatre, University of Johannesburg, Kingsway Campus, in Auckland Park until 16 March 2025.