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Tania Verafield, Abe Martell, and Colin Bates in Michael Michetti's adaptation A Picture of Dorian Gray at A Noise Within. (Photo by Craig Schwartz)
Tania Verafield, Abe Martell, and Colin Bates in Michael Michetti’s adaptation A Picture of Dorian Gray at A Noise Within. (Photo by Craig Schwartz)

A Picture of Dorian Gray  

Reviewed by Vanessa Cate
A Noise Within
Through November 16  

RECOMMENDED 

“The artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim.
The critic is he who can translate into another manner or new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest, as the lowest, form of criticism is a mode of autobiography.”
— Oscar Wilde in his preface to his 1891 novella, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

No production at A Noise Within has ever felt as vital or as alive as Michael Michetti’s A Picture of Dorian Gray. Michetti, who adapted and directed, seems to have invested as much of his own life essence into this work as Oscar Wilde did his. The result is a complex, beautiful and impressively theatrical representation of a formidably subtle and verbose text.

The title character is the very image of glorious youth. Blushingly handsome, innocent, curious and charming, Dorian Gray (played by Colin Bates) is intoxicating and irresistible to all who meet him. Basil Hallward (Amin El Gamal), a sensitive and romantic artist, is enthralled by Gray, and hopes to immortalize him in the form of a painting. But when the debauched and worldly-wise Lord Henry Wotton (Frederick Stuart) drops by for an unannounced visit, Basil worries that this unregenerate libertine might corrupt everything pure about Dorian.

Basil’s not wrong. After a single conversation with Lord Henry, Dorian realizes, in horror, the impermanence of youth. He wishes that the painting — a masterpiece — age in his place. He makes the wish as a child might, carelessly bartering his soul away so that he might never grow old.

For any production of this work to succeed, the casting of Dorian Gray must be precise. It’s a precarious challenge: Should one cast for beauty or for substance? Luckily, the Julliard-trained Bates offers both in spades, seamlessly evolving from an innocent boy to the embodiment of narcissism, and believable at every stage of his complex character’s development, from budding innocent to carnal hedonist.

Production design elements act in harmony to paint a successful stage picture. Rose Malone’s lighting, Robert Oriol’s sound, and Garry Lennon’s austere costumes establish the time period well while advancing Dorian Gray to an otherworldly being. Michetti and James Maloof’s scenic design, comprised of minimalist 1890s decor and a picture frame motif, beg the audience to interpret the themes and action before them. An ever-shifting doorway adds depth and dimension to the stage.

But no aspect does the production more service than Michetti’s artistic lens. Realistic in the most important ways, excitingly surreal in others, it honors the divine words of Wilde, while embracing beauty as a core aesthetic and handling the themes of the text with both a sense of true human horror, and humor.

Michetti also does a great service to the work’s true nature by garnering much of his inspiration from its original publication, which appeared in Lippincott’s monthly magazine in 1890, and which was panned for its flagrant homosexuality. The 1891 version of the novella that we know today was made more heteronormative for mass consumption.

Wilde’s masterpiece, as with Basil’s painting, revealed much about the artist who, upsettingly, was imprisoned and exiled on charges of homosexuality, and died impoverished and in pain. So, it seems only just that, as we move toward a more accepting society, we strive to express Wilde’s art as it was meant to be. In so doing, we are able see characters and dialogue come to life as never before. Unapologetic, Michetti’s actors sparkle with chemistry and desire. Wilde’s work is so often stripped of sexuality in favor of heady intellectualism. A Picture of Dorian Gray is sexy.

Act II begins with a tectonic shift in directorial tone. The artistic challenge of directing Dorian Gray’s eighteen-year descent into debauchery is met with top-notch modern dance movement, expertly choreographed by John Pennington and executed by the ensemble while a portion of the novella is read aloud by ensemble member Daniel Lench. It’s affecting, sensual, poignant — but kept from being too precious because we simultaneously observe three actors applying old-age makeup upstage right. This theatrical collage transforms the narrative into a visceral fever-dream of hedonism. Here is just one example — there are other strong and smart directorial choices, as in the handling of the painting itself.

Wilde was an aestheticist who championed the embrace of pleasure. He was vilified for it. He should not have been. The work asks Dorian (and all of us) to embrace pleasure, which is not the same as asking us to admit sin. Rather, it invites us to feast on our true nature, without shame. That the piece can simultaneously ask us to meditate on mortality and morality makes it quite complicated, and as wonderfully relevant now as when it was written. It may be that we grow old, but Wilde’s work remains young, just as the infamous painting at the crux of his master work.

 

A Noise Within, 3352 E Foothill Blvd., Pasadena 91107; For schedule and tickets visit www.anoisewithin.org or (626) 356-3121; through November 16. Running time: two hours and 20 minutes with one 20-minute intermission.

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