Oscar Wilde

I am a fan of both Oscar and Robert but am very disappointed in Morley's portrayal of Wilde. Physically, he is both too old, too short, too plain and too fat to capture the magnificent physical presence of Oscar. I had trouble also with the script which practically obliterates Oscar's homosexuality. John Neville is too old and stilted to give us the beauty and appeal of Bosie. Oscar's well known sardonic wit is also missed in this interpretation. I much preferred Stephen Fry's later performance. When I think of Oscar, I think of glamour, vanity, beauty, genius, all of which is missing in this 1959 attempt. 5 out of 10 for Phyllis Calvert and Ralph Richardson.

The other comment describes Sir Edward Carson as the prosecutor of Oscar Wilde. That's incorrect.

What happened was that, in a fit of madness, Oscar Wilde sued the Marquis of Queensbury (the father of his lover, Sir Alfred Douglas and the author of the rules of modern boxing) for slander, based on an accusation by Queensbury that Wilde was a 'somdomite' (sic). All of Wilde's friends tried to talk him out of it - Victorian England worked on a 'don't ask, don't tell' basis, and Wilde was quite safe had he done nothing. But his success as a playwright emboldened him, and he filed suit.

Carson was retained by the Marquis to defend him. The famous cross-examination occurred during the trial of Wilde's slander complaint. He was destroyed on cross examination, in such a way that the nature of his lifestyle became too public to be ignored. Carson, after he had won the slander case, actually tried to dissuade the Crown from prosecuting, but to no avail. A criminal prosecution did follow, in which Carson was not involved, ending in Wilde's conviction, and a 2 year prison sentence that effectively ended his career and life.

Carson, an Irish Protestant, earned my own condemnation for his role in opposing Irish independence. But in the Wilde case, he was responding for the defense, and he took active steps thereafter to prevent a prosecution. Wilde was the principal cause of his own legal destruction.

It took over two decades for Robert Morley to bring Oscar Wilde to the screen. Morley scored his first big break playing Oscar Wilde in what might be described as an off Drury Lane theater because homosexuality was the love that dare not speak its name in 1936. In 1960 in America it was still not spoken though in the United Kingdom it was starting to get a whisper or two.

One of the great men of literature was brought down by Victorian mores and justice when he happened to run afoul of a monstrously homophobic father who accused him of seducing his son.

The movie-going public had a double dose of Oscar Wilde in 1960 with Peter Finch giving an equally brilliant performance as Wilde in another film which is seen a lot more often because the producer had the foresight to do it in color. So Morley's feature kind of took a back seat.

Both films concentrate totally on the trial, the first one for libel that Wilde stupidly brought against the Marquis of Queensbury, father of his inamorata Lord Alfred Douglas. Douglas is played by young John Neville and he's a weak callow youth. I thought Neville's interpretation of the part lacking the bite that John Fraser's had in the Finch film or of Jude Law in the 1997 film Wilde which starred Stephen Fry.

In the Citadel Film series book on the Films of James Mason, Mason himself said that he liked what Ralph Richardson did with the part of Edward Carson better than his own performance. Richardson could easily have been labeled the shark of Old Bailey. He is devastatingly brilliant in his performance. Mason's words were extremely generous to a colleague he obviously respected and admired. Mason was Carson in the Peter Finch film and he was pretty good himself.

Phyllis Calvert was the long suffering Mrs. Wilde with whom Oscar had two sons. Poor Wilde was born a hundred years too soon. Today he'd be Ian McKellan and proudly marry Lord Alfred Douglas for better or worse, richer or poorer. Given Bosy's habits it would have been poorer very soon.

Robert Morley was a great actor who could play a great range of parts from comic to tragic. We're fortunate indeed to have his breakthrough performance preserved

Without a doubt, this is the film to see if you are deeply interested in this unconventional and fabulous writer that was Oscar Wilde. Two other films about him were shot: "the Trials of Oscar Wilde" and Brian Gilbert's work in 1997 but they aren't found wanting to Gregory Ratoff's version.

Of course, it's indisputable that Ratoff's film was made with restricted means as the cheap scenery testify. It sometimes gives way to drawbacks like in the very last sequence which shows Wilde after his lost trial sitting at the terrace of a Parisian café and next to him, one can hear a musician playing the accordion. A perfect cliché about France. But it's minor quibble and anyway, given the means Ratoff had at his disposal, was there another way to show the audience that Wilde was in Paris under the pseudonym of Sébastien Melmott? Anyway, one can eminently forget the scenery and admire how Ratoff conceived his film. First, he eschewed many traps of the biopic film including the following one: to relate all Wilde's life from his childhood. He chose to steer his film on the period of his life which began with the relationship Wilde developed with his young protégé Lord Alfred Douglas. In a nutshell, this scandalous love (for the time) was the beginning of the end for the witty writer who fell foul of the chic, posh Victorian society. As everyone knows, homosexuality was banned in this very conservative, ossified society and it could only end up as a trial for Wilde. A trial he could only lose but during which he showed a stalwart courage thanks to his own witty answers. This trial is the pinnacle of the film and Ratoff succeeds in incorporating elements of Wilde's anterior life like the introduction at the outset of his wondrous novel "the Picture of Dorian Gray" (1889). And one can only admire his style to film the evolution of this trial and the verbal exchanges between Wilde and sir Edward Carson. At first, Wilde seems sure of himself and his cues make the audience laugh but bit by bit confidence leaves him as he is dwarfed by dogged Carson's ruthless questions. In the long run, Ratoff weaves a stifling atmosphere and it's impossible not to feel it.

All you have to do is to sit and admire the quality of the dialogs and also of the actors. Robert Morley confers to his main character the wit and wisdom which made Wilde famous. And Ralph Richardson equally delivers a prime performance. But John Neville seems too old for the role Lord Alfred Douglas. In the most recent version, Jude Law was a better choice thanks to his relatively young age.

Of course, this film will never supersede a good book about one of the most crucial writers who existed on this planet but Ratoff's work makes him justice.

I don't know much about Oscar Wilde the man. Instead, I just know him through his works. This film was on Turner Classic Movie's "Summer Under the Stars" honoring Ralph Richardson recently, even though Ralph Richardson was a supporting player. Instead this is the only film I can remember in which Robert Morley stars, and in the title role, and he did an excellent job.

The film starts out as rather a love story between Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas, with them meeting at an opening of "Lady Windemere's Fan", having what could be considered a romantic exchange of words, and then would not have likely seen each other again save the fact that Lord Douglas was being blackmailed by an unsavory character over some letters that he wrote to another man. Not knowing what to do he contacts Wilde. Wilde comes to Douglas' rooms and tells Douglas to say nothing. When the blackmailer arrives, Wilde humorously impersonates a member of Scotland Yard and threatens the blackmailer with prison. The blackmailer scurries off, scared to death. And from that point the Wilde/Douglas friendship/romance begins.

England did not have a production code in the strict sense that America did at the time, which dealt with all kinds of things besides sex. However, the film has Wilde claiming - and even seeming to believe - that he is just the dearest friend of Douglas. During his friendship with Douglas he makes the acquaintance of other young men, with the film insinuating that they are gay. They meet in groups, often in public places, and the rumors begin to fly. These rumors get back to the Marquis of Queensberry, Douglas' father, who is a brute beast and is determined to get Wilde away from his son one way or another.

What starts out as the trial of Queensberry for libel against Wilde turns into a trial of Wilde for the vague charge of indecency, which, from what I could gather, was not for a particular act, but for an overall lifestyle. How strange that in Victorian England you could be sent to jail for either libel (a civil crime in America) or just overall indecency - what you were, not a specific act.

Morley gives a very sensitive portrayal of a man who apparently is surprised that he might be gay, and it takes going to trial to make him really think about it. John Neville as Douglas can be sensitive and tender to Wilde, reckless in word and deed, and vindictive when it comes to dear old dad. Morley's Wilde seems blind to the "angry son" side of Douglas until it is too late. Phyllis Calvert does not get much screen time, but as Wilde's wife she comes across as a sweet woman who loves Oscar come what may. Ralph Richardson as the prosecuting attorney brings the trial scenes to life, although his constant opining in open court, trying to prejudice the jury, would never be allowed in courts today.

Dennis Price plays Robert Ross, the stalwart friend of Wilde who offers both advice and encouragement. How surprised I was to see Gregory Ratoff, a Russian immigrant who often played buffoonish executives and agents in American films, was the director of this sensitive character study and drama.

I'd really recommend this one. The acting is excellent and it is a rare chance to see Robert Morley in a starring role that required a great deal of range.