The Happy Prince

Rupert Everett was born to play Oscar Wilde, at least the older Wilde, (Everett is now 59). I'd already seen him play Wilde on stage, magnificently, in David Hare's "The Judas Kiss"; now he has written and directed the film "The Happy Prince" which deals in large part, (it's mostly told in flashback), with the period after his release from Reading Gaol. He, of course, takes on the role of Wilde once again and gives the kind of performance that should get him an Oscar of a different kind.

This is no vanity project but one full of passion and love of his subject. He gives us an Oscar that is vain, glorious and in the throes of the most terrible pain; this is an Oscar warts and all. He dominates every frame of the picture but has also assembled a superb supporting cast. Both Colin Morgan as Bosie and Edwin Thomas as Robbie Ross are splendid but so too are Emily Watson as Constance, Colin Firth as Reggie Turner, John Standing as his doctor and Tom Wilkinson as the priest who gives him the last rites. These may amount to nothing more than cameos but what glorious cameos they are. This is an actor's piece and no mistake.

However, for a work that is primarily literary and for a first-time director Everett also displays a very keen visual eye. This is a handsome period piece but far from a stuffy one. Everett manages to capture the flavour of Oscar's rise and fall beautifully. Here is a film that is heartbreakingly sad and strangely uplifting at the same time, a real testament to Wilde's genius, (it's certainly the best Wilde movie to date), and one of the best LGBT-themed films of recent times. Unmissable.

Oscar Wilde cuts something of a forlorn tragic figure in Rupert Everett's excellent biopic, The Happy Prince.

Personal treatment that Wilde deems to have been hugely unjust has built up much resentment in the heart of this once so carefree flamboyant wordsmith.

Consequently exiled to the shores of France and then further afield, he lives out his final years begging for handouts and favours from those he knows and loves. Those, that is, that haven't turned their back on the now disgraced writer.

Everett's film focuses upon a man whose incarceration and subsequent humiliation on charges of sodomy and gross indecency - following his lewd bordering on nefarious behaviour (in the eyes of the law) - have left him near destitute; a far cry from the opulent lifestyle that once he had led.

The Happy Prince is built loosely around Wilde reciting his fairy tale of the same name to both his own biological sons - during happier married times - and latterly on his death bed to the rag tag 'family' of young urchins that he had befriended.

Wilde - under his newly acquired guise of Melmoth - has a kind of morbidly humorous fascination with both the hopelessness of the predicament in which he now finds himself, and with the plethora of men that continue to fawn over him.

A period piece The Happy Prince may essentially be, but there's a strongly contemporary feel to the film's at times bewitching cinematography, switching neatly and expertly by way of multiple rapid cross fades between Wilde's past and present in an effort to build a picture of - and emphasise the massive disparity between - 'now' and then.

Everett's stupendous performance as Wilde is both arresting and heartfelt, whilst there are meaningful contributions from Colin Firth as Wilde's good friend Reggie, and from Colin Morgan and Edwin Thomas as Bosie and Robbie, respectively, the two mainstays in Wilde's love life who continue to compete fiercely for his attentions, and between whom there is absolutely no love lost.

As for Emily Watson's portrayal of Constance, as solid as it is, one can't help but think that it remains a little peripheral to the film's narrative at times. Perhaps Everett could have made a little more of the clearly strained relationship that had existed between the two, and the impact that this had had upon their children?

It seems that Wilde was indeed harshly dealt with, and laws or no laws, would have had rightful justification to feel aggrieved at his treatment at the hands of the rather puritanical overreaching government of the time.

That said, Everett's film seems intent to paint Wilde not as some sort of saintly martyr, but as a charming but deeply flawed man with a propensity for making poor life decisions. A man who had flown too close to the sun, and who perhaps had been more than a little guilty of using and abusing those that knew and loved him so much for his own personal gain.

The Happy Prince, whilst at times cheeky and playful in its outlook, never strays too far from its melancholic roots in its elegantly crafted, poignant regaling of the final days of the late great Oscar Wilde.

"I'm dying beyond my means" Rupert Everett wrote, directed and stars in this visit to the life and fame of Oscar Wilde. Though the film has strong moments the manner of relating this view of Wilde's latter days is somewhat jumbled by the preponderance of French dialogue, strange insertions of the story The Happy Prince as related by Wilde, and somewhat clumsy use of flash-forwards and flashbacks that take the focus of the film's message of how Wilde dealt with his sexuality.

The film suggests the untold story of the last days of brilliant writer Oscar Wilde who in the last part of the 19th century succumbed to his sexual proclivities in homophobic England, where homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment, his prison time, and the striving to find his place upon release from prison. As the synopsis states, 'In a cheap Parisian hotel room Oscar Wilde (Rupert Everett) lies on his deathbed. The past floods back, taking him to other times and places. Was he once the most famous man in London? The artist crucified by a society that once worshipped him? Under the microscope of death he reviews the failed attempt to reconcile with his long suffering wife Constance (Emily Watson), the ensuing reprisal of his fatal love affair with Lord Alfred Douglas aka Bosie (Colin Morgan), the warmth and devotion of Robbie Ross (Edwin Thomas), who tried and failed to save him from himself, and constant friend Reggie Turner (Colin Firth). Travelling through Wilde's final act and journeys through England, France and Italy, the transience of lust is laid bare and the true riches of love are revealed. It is a portrait of the dark side of a genius who lived and died for love. A touching moment takes us off guard as Father Dunne (Tom Wilkinson) offers last rites at story's end.'

Rupert Everett is impressive in his complete submersion in the character of Oscar Wilde. The supporting cast is also very strong. There seems to be a disconnect between the concept and aim of the film and its execution: it wanders a bit much but is still full of entertaining and touching moments.

"And all men kill the thing they love/ By all let this be heard/ Some do it with a bitter look/ Some with a flattering word/ The coward does it with a kiss/The brave man with a sword!" Oscar Wilde (Rupert Everett)

Because I am a devoted fan of Oscar Wilde, I had to open this review of The Happy Prince with his famous final stanza from The Ballad of Reading Gaol. It's his wisdom for those foolishly thinking love is always benign, and it signals Wilde's own ironic awareness of his complicity in landing for two deadly years in Reading for gross indecency (homosexuality).

The stanza also may allude to the disaster he brought the many he loved, male and female. As his first and final love, Robbie Ross (Edwin Thomas), declares, "He'll eat you."

The Happy Prince tells of Wilde's last days after his tragic imprisonment; he is subject to taunts even from Parisians, so famous was he round the world. An "exiled fairy" he called himself. Because homosexuality was outlawed in England, it is especially ironic that the once most famous author of the 1890's should be vilified with universal shame.

In 2017 he and other convicted sodomites were pardoned, small comfort to those of us who believe he could have had more greatness like The Importance of Being Earnest and The Ideal Husband to come.

This film carefully chronicles Wilde's self-destructive self-indulgence, living high when he didn't have the funds and returning to the arms of Lord Alfred "Bosie" Douglas (Colin Morgan), the beautiful young man he loved, whose love cost Wilde the years in jail and everything else. Wilde himself says, "I am my own Judas."

The recurring theme song, "The Boy I Love is Up in the Gallery," resonates with the joy and sorrow he brings to himself. Empathetic director-actor Everett also suffered professionally when he came out at the age of 25. This film, however, should bring him universal acclaim.

That story of Wilde's life is available on film and in biography, but Everett has given us the final period not dramatically and universally enjoyed until now with a fine performance he sharpened from many years playing the doomed wit on stage, set here in Paris, Normandy, and Naples, and set production in Bavaria and Belgium.

This Wilde is disconsolate, weary, and dissolute with not enough of his witticisms and epigrams to my liking. In fact, as seemingly realistic as it is, it is perhaps too gloomy for a general audience. But for literature and art house lovers, it's nectar.

Somewhere in the middle of the film, Wilde says his most famous final words: "I am dying beyond my means. I can't even afford to die. This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One of us has got to go." Wilde is arguably the most quoted author after Shakespeare, and these words show how even death by meningitis can't stop his wit.

BTW: Research his countless epigrams-you'll spend an afternoon in bliss. These are three samples:

"I think that God, in creating man, somewhat overestimated his ability."

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."

"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his."

Dorothy Parker gives the ultimate praise:

"If, with the literate, I am Impelled to try an epigram, I never seek to take the credit; We all assume that Oscar said it."

This was an absorbing tale largely because I hadn't a clue about Wilde's last days. The acting was excellent, each actor delivering a completely believable naturalistic turn. Despite the great support acting if the lead, Rupert Everett ( almost unrecognisable) hadn't been so completely absorbing it could have been dire. He was remarkable, managing the multiple tones and moods Wilde goes through. A tale of sadness and joy and redemption. Such an interesting movie.