Director: Oliver Parker
Starring: Ben Barnes, Colin Firth, Rebecca Hall
Certificate: 15
Pale faces? Check. Dark and dingy London setting? Check. Copious amounts of blood and guts? Double check. Yes, it’s another Victorian gothic-horror film and the clichés are out in full force for Parker’s third Oscar Wilde adaptation. Unfortunately, the truncation of the source material extends far beyond the title, leaving us with a half-baked, poorly-developed feature which could, and should, have been so much more.
The story follows Dorian Gray (Barnes), a young man whose youthful vitality and good looks make him the rising star of the London social elite. He meets Lord Henry Wotton (Firth) and quickly becomes a disciple of his decadent, pleasure-seeking philosophy. When an artist friend paints young Gray’s portrait, Dorian is so enraptured by the result that he wishes he could give up his soul in exchange for eternal youth and beauty. In a Faustian twist of fate, this is exactly what happens, but whilst Gray exploits the situation in order to satisfy his carnal desires, the painting gradually changes to reflect the decaying state of his soul.
The first scene of the film, in which we see Dorian stab a man to death and then dispose of his body in the Thames, tells us in no uncertain terms where things are headed. It does seem, however, that the writers were a bit keen to reach that point. In an effort to get to the juicy bits, the plot progresses far too rapidly in the first thirty minutes, leaving unexplored the reasoning behind some of Dorian’s actions. His instant willingness to follow Wotton’s despicable lifestyle rings false and the decision to celebrate his engagement by having sex with prostitutes, then to immediately break off the engagement after an argument with his fiancé over said prostitutes is positively baffling.
Many people will forget the early behavioural inconsistencies once the sexing begins. Indeed, when the homosexual undercurrents, evident from the first, finally rise to the surface, it’s almost gripping. The lack of subtlety that plagues the entire film, however, results in the sex scenes being less thrilling than an advert for Magnum ice creams. The moral depravity is rammed down our throats to the extent that we become desensitised to the gruesome nature of later events.
The film is also let down by some questionable performances from the cast. Barnes may have youth and beauty, but the emotion of the central character is not complemented by his expressionless face. Rachel Hurd-Wood, as Gray’s short-lived fiancé, is atrocious. Firth, in an altogether adequate performance, provides us with the pithy one-liners that made Wilde famous. The star of the show, however, is undoubtedly Rebecca Hall, whose brief appearances as Wotton’s daughter are, truly, the highlights of an otherwise gloomy feature.
Verdict
Some poor acting and a dodgy first half-hour (not to mention the out-of-place CGI-haemorrhage that is the conclusion of the film) leave Dorian Gray looking more of a Rolf Harris than a Renoir.
Starring: Ben Barnes, Colin Firth, Rebecca Hall
Certificate: 15
Pale faces? Check. Dark and dingy London setting? Check. Copious amounts of blood and guts? Double check. Yes, it’s another Victorian gothic-horror film and the clichés are out in full force for Parker’s third Oscar Wilde adaptation. Unfortunately, the truncation of the source material extends far beyond the title, leaving us with a half-baked, poorly-developed feature which could, and should, have been so much more.
The story follows Dorian Gray (Barnes), a young man whose youthful vitality and good looks make him the rising star of the London social elite. He meets Lord Henry Wotton (Firth) and quickly becomes a disciple of his decadent, pleasure-seeking philosophy. When an artist friend paints young Gray’s portrait, Dorian is so enraptured by the result that he wishes he could give up his soul in exchange for eternal youth and beauty. In a Faustian twist of fate, this is exactly what happens, but whilst Gray exploits the situation in order to satisfy his carnal desires, the painting gradually changes to reflect the decaying state of his soul.
The first scene of the film, in which we see Dorian stab a man to death and then dispose of his body in the Thames, tells us in no uncertain terms where things are headed. It does seem, however, that the writers were a bit keen to reach that point. In an effort to get to the juicy bits, the plot progresses far too rapidly in the first thirty minutes, leaving unexplored the reasoning behind some of Dorian’s actions. His instant willingness to follow Wotton’s despicable lifestyle rings false and the decision to celebrate his engagement by having sex with prostitutes, then to immediately break off the engagement after an argument with his fiancé over said prostitutes is positively baffling.
Many people will forget the early behavioural inconsistencies once the sexing begins. Indeed, when the homosexual undercurrents, evident from the first, finally rise to the surface, it’s almost gripping. The lack of subtlety that plagues the entire film, however, results in the sex scenes being less thrilling than an advert for Magnum ice creams. The moral depravity is rammed down our throats to the extent that we become desensitised to the gruesome nature of later events.
The film is also let down by some questionable performances from the cast. Barnes may have youth and beauty, but the emotion of the central character is not complemented by his expressionless face. Rachel Hurd-Wood, as Gray’s short-lived fiancé, is atrocious. Firth, in an altogether adequate performance, provides us with the pithy one-liners that made Wilde famous. The star of the show, however, is undoubtedly Rebecca Hall, whose brief appearances as Wotton’s daughter are, truly, the highlights of an otherwise gloomy feature.
Verdict
Some poor acting and a dodgy first half-hour (not to mention the out-of-place CGI-haemorrhage that is the conclusion of the film) leave Dorian Gray looking more of a Rolf Harris than a Renoir.
