A Walk On The Wilde Side

Recognizing a good cliche in the making, the audience laughs at a London newspaper calling Oscar Wilde’s 1895 court case “the trial of the century.” But in fact it would be difficult to overstate the harrowing drama of Wilde’s trial and the complex events that led to his imprisonment. In a culture still openly distrustful of gays and artists thought to be elitists--and one every bit as engrossed by the sex lives of public people--we are still trying Wilde’s case today in all kinds of ways.

The surprise off-off Broadway hit of last year, “Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde” tells a bizarre, tragic story both elegantly and efficiently. Writer-director Moises Kaufman has essentially written a courtroom drama while weaving in the testimony of witnesses and commentators in an impressively fluid way. Kaufman makes clear that his title refers not to the crimes for which Wilde was charged, but to the way in which he was convicted, bankrupted, jailed and publicly reviled. The play opened Thursday night at the Mark Taper Forum.

Just before the disaster, Wilde was a sought-after literary personage and famous wit, married, with two children and two hit plays on in the West End. As was custom for a Victorian gentleman with Wilde’s private inclinations, he lived a double life, spending much of his time and money on the much younger Lord Alfred Douglas (Mike Doyle), a struggling writer and spoiled college boy. Lord Alfred was engaged in a raging battle with his own father, the petty and vindictive Lord Queensberry (Hal Robinson). Wilde’s grandiose persona drove Queensberry nearly insane. He harangued Wilde, finally leaving a calling card for him, inscribed “For Oscar Wilde, posing Somdomite [sic].” Encouraged by Lord Alfred, Wilde sued Queensberry for libel. He not only lost but was subsequently tried for “indecent” practices that came to light during the Queensberry suit. Then came a hung jury, a new trial, a sentence of two years’ hard labor, the loss of his children and early death, in 1900, for one of the sharpest minds of either the 19th or the present century.

Imported from the original production, Michael Emerson fights a losing battle against type to portray the felled literary giant. Wilde was not only large but ungainly, 6 foot 3 and unathletic. Charles Laughton could have played him (as Robert Morley, Peter Finch and Michael Gambon have). Emerson is a small, angular man, with intense eyes that bulge slightly when he delivers a witticism, a la William Buckley. He almost overcomes the fact that he is physically inappropriate--his Wilde fields the increasingly hostile and degrading questions flung at him with dignity, and he portrays, step by harrowing step, the unnerving of a supremely confident personality. But his performance is not strong enough to also compensate for an age imbalance. Wilde was 41 at the time of his trial, almost 20 years Lord Alfred’s senior, and had a penchant for young men. Emerson looks not much older than either Doyle or the young male prostitutes brought out to testify against him, which robs the story of an essential component.

During the course of the trial, Kaufman interposes comments, read by a solid ensemble of eight men, changing roles and citing sources from books they sometimes hold up at a long table in front of the stage. In this way we hear from moralizing journalists, disagreeing biographers, as well as from a contemporary academic with a somewhat befuddled take on the legacy of the trial and on why Wilde could not tell the truth about himself. We also get the insight of people close to Wilde, including George Bernard Shaw’s characteristically precise commentary: “If he believes that homosexuality is not a crime, he is perfectly right to say that he is not guilty of it.”

Smartly editing the famous trial transcripts, Kaufman focuses on the fact that Wilde was tried in part for standing in opposition to the mores of his era. Queensberry’s attorney asks him to condemn a story about a priest who is attracted to a young man, and he refuses to call it immoral. “It was worse,” he says, “It was badly written.”

His dazzling, witty remarks infuriated a substantial segment of the ruling class. He defended his own work--which was put on trial along with him--with aplomb. But he gets caught in his cleverness, a riveting moment in the play, when he answers flippantly a question about whether he kissed a young man. After that, the downward slide is steep and terrible.

The question of how much Wilde took a hand in his own tragedy is, as ever, a fascinating one. “Gross Indecency” allows this question to coexist with the mystery of why a society persecutes homosexuals and refuses to tolerate certain kinds of intellectuals. These mysteries go far into the dark night of any society’s soul. Kaufman possesses a great editor’s eye for shaping archival material and making us ask ourselves all the right questions.

* “Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde,” Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles, Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7:30 p.m.; Saturdays-Sundays, 2:30 p.m. Ends March 29. $29-$37. (213) 628-2772. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

Michael Emerson: Oscar Wilde

Mike Doyle: Lord Alfred Douglas

Hal Robinson: Queensberry, Gill, Lockwood

Geraint Wyn Davies:Clarke, others

Simon Templeman: Carson, Narrator

J. Todd Adams: Narrator, Atkins, Judge, others

Mitchell Anderson: Narrator, Wood, Shaw, others

Eddie Bowz: Narrator, Parker, Harris, others

Benjamin Livingston: Narrator, Mavor, Taylor, others

A production of the Mark Taper Forum by arrangement with Leonard Soloway and Chase Mishkin. Written and directed by Moises Kaufman. Sets Sarah Lambert. Costumes Kitty Leech. Lights Betsy Adams. Sound Jon Gottlieb. Original music Peter Golub. Production stage manager Tami Toon. Stage manager David S. Franklin.