Dorian Gray
2009
Rated R
1 hr. 52 mins.
Momentum Pictures/Ealing Studios
Directed by Oliver Parker
Starring Ben Barnes, Colin Firth, Ben Chaplin, Rebecca Hall

A corrupt young man somehow keeps his youthful beauty eternally, but a special painting gradually reveals his inner ugliness to all. [IMDb)

When Oscar Wilde wrote his one-and-only novel (“The Picture of Dorian Gray,” published as a novella in “Lippincott's Monthly Magazine,” 1890; and in longer form one year later), it’s fair to say he had no idea that it would remain so permanently threaded in the fabric of society. Wilde’s novel is a shrewd commentary on culture’s perception of–-and obsession with–-youth and beauty, which is all the more poignant today's society than it was in the late-Victorian era. To this day, if someone seems to be defying the inevitable aging process, we pause to wonder: “Do they have a painting in their attic?”

There have been scads of film, TV, and stage adaptations of what is considered Wilde’s most popular work–-barring his extremely clever and witty stage plays, namely “The Importance of Being Earnest”, “An Ideal Husband”, and “Lady Windermere’s Fan’. Arguably, the most well-known feature-length film version is Oliver Parker’s 2009 “Dorian Gray”, which stars Ben Barnes in the title role, Colin Firth as the dastardly Lord Henry Wotton, and Ben Chaplin as the ill-fated portrait painter Basil Hallward. Before we delve into the various themes Wilde focused on in the novel and how those play out on the big screen, I’ll provide a plot synopsis. Naturally, the film does differ from the book in several major ways, but essentially all the moving pieces are present and accounted for:

Dorian Gray, a naive and sheltered young man, inherits the estate of his deceased grandfather turning him into a proper English gentleman overnight. He is immediately befriended by the upper echelon of Victorian London, developing a fast friendship with the much-ballyhooed portrait painter Basil Hallward. Through Hallward, he is introduced to Lord Henry Wooton, who becomes the architect of Dorian’s downfall.
Although Dorian is keenly aware he possesses staggeringly good looks, his personality initially lacks conceit and his morals are safely intact. Everything changes as soon as the cynical and acid-tongued Lord Henry opens his mouth to spew his nihilistic philosophies on life. Events are triggered when Hallward’s finished portrait of Dorian is revealed. Lord Henry posits that unlike Dorian, the painting will never age. He asks Dorian if he’d be willing to bargain his soul in exchange for everlasting youth. Dorian admits he would. And, as if by some mischief or magic (neither Wilde or the 2009 film explain precisely how), Dorian’s soul and the painting become enmeshed. From that moment on, he stops aging and soon begins to notice that the portrait is aging in his place.

Ben Barnes in the role of Dorian Gray (2009)

Throughout the book and film, Dorian is extremely suggestible and easily led by Lord Henry’s silver-tongued philosophies. He warps the young innocent's mind for sport. In no time, Dorian takes on Lord Henry's penchant for partaking in society’s hedonistic pleasures–including opiates, heavy drinking, and prostitution. Early on, Lord Henry thwarts Dorian’s engagement to a naive young actress, who commits suicide when the marriage is called off–-an event that will haunt him for the remainder of his life. From here on, Dorian’s personal character shifts dramatically.

Colin Firth and Ben Barnes in Dorian Gray 2009

Firth and Barnes in Dorian Gray (2009)

Under Lord Henry’s influence, Dorian slips into the rabbit hole of seedy London nightlife. With each misdeed and exploited vice, his portrait ages further–-taking on hideous characteristics that visually represent his evildoings. Both horrified by his strange new reality and desperate to make sure his bargain is kept, he hides the portrait in an attic chamber. In his most desperate act, he murders Hallward when the unwitting painter discovers the truth about Dorian’s ageless beauty.
Decades pass, and Dorian has become a pro at leading a double life; but that doesn’t mean his reputation hasn’t suffered nor stopped people from gossiping about his ever-youthful appearance. From here, in what is the most obvious deviation from the source material, Dorian seeks redemption by falling in love with the principled daughter of Lord Henry. So distraught by their impending union, Lord Henry seeks to uncover Dorian’s secret, finds the painting, and confronts Dorian, who chooses to sacrifice himself in order to save his friend and the woman he had hoped could save him from himself.

Moral of the story, simply put, an obsession with youth and beauty ultimately leads to the corruption of one’s soul. As Wilde wrote:

“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.”

Let’s take a few moments to consider this theme, along with others presented in both the film and the book and apply them to the climate of late-Victorian society. Wilde lived during what was perhaps the most hypocritical era of Western history. On the surface, Victorians were moral and upright; extremely guarded in all personal matters; critical of others who dabbled in anything labeled taboo; and bound by strict and convoluted rules of social etiquette. The irony being, more often than not, these same Victorians were addicted to legal and illegal substances; frequenting houses of ill-repute; having extra-marital affairs or keeping mistresses among other less-than-moral behaviors. (One glaring for instance: Let’s not forget how quickly the invention of modern pornography followed the invention of the camera.) “The Picture of Dorian Gray” was, and remains, a statement on how if one scratched below the surface, they’d find a very different Victorian society underneath. Beauty is, after all, only skin deep.

Ben Chaplin and Ben Barnes in Dorian Gray 2009

Chaplin and Barnes in Dorian Gray (2009)

We can delve even deeper into the hypocrisy of Victorian society by examining another theme Wilde weaves into his narrative through subtle references and allusions to the main male characters’ sexual preferences. From dialogue alone, it’s all but certain that Hallward is in love with Dorian. Contemporary readers may have interpreted his effusiveness and obsession with Dorian as the passion an artist might have for his muse. However, more obvious allusions to Hallward’s love and lust for Dorian were edited out of subsequent editions of the novel both by Wilde himself and his publisher.

Why the anticipatory censorship? We must remember the time in which the book was written, and that Wilde was living a double life himself. Married, but engaging in relationships with men--not unlike many men in the Victorian era who did the same and kept each other's secrets. Wilde chose to reveal through clever subtext and passing anecdotes that Dorian, Lord Henry, and Hallward were all engaged in same-sex liaisons–and, more than likely, with each other. (For example, the novel contains a subtle reference to Dorian and Lord Henry sharing a house while vacationing in Tangiers--a destination known to be frequented by gay men during the Victorian era--with purposeful intent.)

While Wilde was restricted from using this theme overtly because homosexuality was illegal and subject to criminal conviction, the film does a thorough job expressing it. Under Lord Henry’s influence, Dorian engages in many types of sexual encounters. In today’s vernacular, he would most likely be considered pansexual. How these encounters are represented on film, however, does warrant some criticism. It’s not that the various acts that take place in the film didn’t exist at the time; they certainly did. Hell, the Victorians probably invented some of them. But, I do question the emphasis and screen time given to these encounters. At times, it does seem gratuitously presented for the sake of shock value and eroticism rather than for the purposes of moving the plot along or defining character. That being said, while those scenes are shocking, they are sexy and erotic, as well as artistically filmed and edited.

Barnes en flagrante delecto in Dorian Gray (2009)
I'd show you others, but they're simply NSFW. This was the tamest of the lot.

I do wonder what Wilde would have thought if he’d been able to watch this adaptation. Would he have thought it was a bit over the top? Or, would he have applauded the freedom the filmmakers used to interpret his work? We’ll never know, of course; though, I do tend to side mostly on the latter. A final word on the subject: It is terribly sad to think that “The Picture of Dorian Gray” was used against Wilde's personal character in a court of law. Having faced multiple convictions and imprisonment, he ultimately fled England and died penniless and alone in Paris. In 2017, owing to the Alan Turing Law, Wilde along with approximately 50,000 men, was pardoned posthumously for homosexual acts once considered criminal offenses.

Barnes as Dorian Gray confronts his demons.

Now, back to the film and how it differs from the book. Naturally, any literary work is going to require changes for cinematic adaptation. The problems with “Dorian Gray” are not so much to do with those plot device changes, but with the very awkward editing, pacing, and artistic choices. At times, it feels as if the filmmakers were too focused on making the movie visually stimulating (which it is) while ignoring their responsibility to the plot. They were also hyper-focused on what was then called “Gothic”, better known today as “horror”, aspects of the story. These rather cheesy, gruesome special effects, in my honest opinion, cheapened the look of the film, as well as the overall message. Make no mistake, “The Picture of Dorian Gray” is a fantasy with supernatural and early-horror overtones, but it is first and foremost a literary commentary on the superficial nature of society; how an obsessive interest in youth and beauty will lead to corruption; an allusion to the myth of Narcissus; and an indictment on the hypocrisy of repressed Victorian views. While the film did a great job of visualizing those themes, it fell short in giving them the weight of Wilde’s intent.

Comparing Oscar Wilde's Style to Dorian Gray 2009 Costume Choices

(Scroll for more style comparisons.)

With respect to art direction, this film is a veritable feast for the eyes. From set dressing to costuming, everything feels authentically–and sumptuously–Victorian. The wardrobe team was definitely doing their due diligence when it came to dressing Dorian. I’ve no doubt they modeled the look on the author himself, using portraits taken of Wilde, namely those by photographer and lithographer Napoleon Sarony, for inspiration. (In addition to the image shown to the left, I’ve put together a small collection of examples to prove my hunch. Scroll to the end of the posting for a look.)

And, finally, some observations about the acting performances. For those of you who prefer to imagine Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, look away. You won’t find him here. Firth is pure evil as Lord Henry, and you will surely hate him–-proving only that Firth is, no surprise, a great actor. Ben Barnes, who bears little resemblance to the book description of Dorian, is the quintessential picture of youth and beauty. He’s breathtakingly handsome, so it’s easy to understand why he has all of Victorian London captivated. His portrayal, given the confines of the script and what was done in post in terms of editing, is laudable. He transitions from a naive young man to an evil monster with dexterity and believability; and somehow manages to make you feel sympathy for what becomes a truly loathsome and grotesque character. But this seems to be Barnes’ forte, judging from his other roles; he has a knack for finding the humanity in any character, no matter how morally gray. Aside from Firth and Barnes, the other character portrayals are incidental and nothing to write home about.

Overall, "Dorian Gray" is an entertaining, if unreliable adaptation of Wilde’s work. Watch it for entertainment value, but not for the basis of writing your book report. ;)