Oscar Wilde

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.

Whatever money was spent on this movie certainly didn't go on the sets, the furniture looks as though it was assembled by a local handyman and the trial scenes, which make up the largest part of the film, seem to be taking place in a converted church hall or school gymnasium with hastily constructed props. However this happens to be a very good film indeed, the superb acting carries the film and makes it far better than the more lavish Peter Finch version which was released about the same time.

I've always thought of Robert Morley as just a comic character playing himself but here he really becomes Oscar Wilde. You can imagine Wilde talking and behaving as he does in this movie . The verbal exchanges between Morley as Wilde and Ralph Richardson as the prosecutor are magnificent. Wilde enjoying the limelight, plays to the gallery and wins every one of the exchanges until he gets too confident, makes one fatal error and then the prosecutor starts to chip away at his defense.

The minor characters are uniformly well acted with Phyllis Calvert as Wilde's wife, Dennis Price as his loyal friend and Edward Chapman as the boorish Marquis of Queensbury . John Neville is probably a little too old to play Sir Alfred Douglas but his skilful acting makes it work . The final scenes between Wilde and his family are very touching.

Well worth seeing.

Oscar Wilde reputation is set for all time. He was a brilliant, witty writer of graceful style. He was also a bi-sexual, whose affair with Lord Alfred Douglas led to a tragic final fall when exposed in court. What most people forget is that the trial where he was exposed was a libel suit against Lord Alfred's brutal and mad father the Marquess of Queensbury (the one who gave us the rules for boxing). Queensbury hated his sons and their mother, and his antics helped lead to the suicide of one of the sons (the private secretary of Prime Minister, Lord Roseberry). Queensbury disliked Wilde for his influence over Lord Alfred and his unspeakable homosexual affair with his son. He sent him a note on a card, "To Oscar Wilde, disguised as a "somdomite"." The Marquess presumed that by misspelling sodomite he was protecting himself but smearing Wilde. Wilde had an opportunity then to ignore the slur and go abroad for awhile (which most men in his position would have done). He decided to sue - goaded into it by Lord Alfred (who saw this as a safe opportunity to hit at his father). Never has such a critically important legal decision been made on such a stupid basis.

The barrister for Queensbury was Edward Carson, one of England's greatest lawyers. He is the model for the barrister played by Robert Donat in "The Winslow Boy" (based on Carson's defense of young Archer-Shee in the 1911 legal action). Carson was a master of cross-examination, and he had plenty of information that Queensbury (and Wilde's many enemies) had gathered about his sexual activities. But Wilde was able to fend off the attack for hours, until he reached a series of questions about a telegraph boy who was available for sex for hire. Carson had been unable to make a dent into Wilde's hide so far, and then out of sheer desperation asked, "Did you kiss him?" Wilde was amazed - the question did throw him. "Did I kiss him?", he repeated. "Yes", answered Carson with a lack of real interest. Wilde had been trumping Carson with one-liners that left the court in stitches. Instead of saying, "Of course not!" or "How dare you!", which would have helped, Wilde quipped the sentence in the summary line above. And Carson saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Wilde never recovered after that.

The jury was able to absolve Queensbury of libel (after all, it was shown that Wilde was homosexual). The authorities now held back for nearly twelve hours from going after Wilde. They simply hoped he would flee to the continent. Instead, Wilde decided to stay and fight. It is the second trial that really demolished him. He was now on trial of committing sodomy, and the evidence was too overwhelming. Found guilty, he was sentenced to three years in prison. He left prison and lived in France until he died in Paris, a broken, impoverished wreck, in 1900.

If you are a homosexual, Wilde is one of the great martyr's to the cause. If you love good writing his end is a dismal tragedy. All the films of his life retell it's denouement. It never gets any better in the retelling - there is no repaired last act. Even (historically) a "reformed", right-wing supporting Lord Alfred rejected the image of his "Bosie" period in later years - claiming he never was a homosexual. One ends just pitying Wilde, unless one is just a reactionary type or a mindless idiot like Queensbury.

Robert Morley never gave a better dramatic performance on film (as opposed to his comic performances) than in this film. Witness his moment on the witness stand, when he realizes the result of his blunder. The cast of John Neville, Ralph Richardson, Edward Chapman, and Dennis Price do equally well in this tale of talent that was shot down so stupidly. I certainly recommend watching it...and then reading "Dorian Gray", "The Importance of Being Earnest", "Salome", "The Ballad of the Reading Gaol", to get a glimmer of the talent that was smashed beyond repair.

Across the decades, cinematic directors have sought to discover the essence of the noted 18th century humorous, poet and playwright Oscar Wilde. Some films shower him with so many accolades, they drown his image in wine and sexual innuendos. Other movies hardly delve into the magical but certainly secret complexity of the talented English writer, using his notorious trial, tribulations and eventual imprisonment as Gris, reducing him to a mere scandalous shell of his life. Perhaps, there are many film versions of Mr. Wilde, but only one stands out which personifies the ideal man. I believe this offering, "Oscar Wilde," (1960) portrayed by enormously talented Robert Morley as the playwright, is the best. True Mr. Morley is such a versatile actor in other films, some would suggest his comic side, or his stuffy, droll demeanor, detract from this impressive writer. I disagree. Despite his inner personal conflicts, Morley exemplifies the quick wit, delightful charm and social elegance befitting the true character of the 18th century cosmopolitan gentleman. Moreley more than adequately depicts the larger than life of Oscar Wilde. Ralph Richardson, plays, Sir Edward Carson the prosecuting attorney who's sole ambition was to destroy the popular writer and his libertine attitudes. Although seeking to protect the upper-class from scandal, his attack was nothing short of evisceral. As one newspaper noted at the trial, the prosecutor was seen to be as objective as a circling shark. All in all, this film is an excellent attempt at epitomizing the historical icon, and is accepted as the very best to-date. ****

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