WILDE ABOUT EVERETT
AN IDEAL HUSBAND Written and Directed by Oliver Parker Based on the play by Oscar Wilde With Rupert Everett, Julianne Moore De Vargas PG-13 97 min
Marvelous actors wearing beautiful clothes and speaking the exquisite dialogue of Oscar Wilde; this may not be a recipe for perfection, but it's as welcome as a cool lemon squash on a sultry afternoon.
Oscar Wilde's laconic, intricately-plotted drawing room farce lifts the garment of faultlessness we demand our lovers and leaders wear, and tickles the feet of clay that lie exposed. Set on the eve of the century we're about to shed, it reminds us that scandal in high places is timeless ("Scandals used to lend charm and interest to a man; nowadays, they crush him"), and we'd do well to evaluate things on balance, not in absolutes. Sir Robert Chiltern (Jeremy Northam of "The Winslow Boy") is a rising politician, adored by his wife Gertrud (Cate Blanchett) and noticed by the Prime Minister. Into this paradise comes a lovely serpent, Mrs. Chevely (Julianne Moore), who has possession of an incriminating letter written years earlier by Chiltern -- a letter which would reveal the one dishonorable blemish on his spotless public record. In return for his support in Parliament of a dubious Argentine canal project in which she has a financial interest, she will return the letter.
Observing all this, at the story's center, is Lord Arthur Goring (Rupert Everett). Goring is Wilde's alter ego, and as such gets most of the best lines, from the moment he opens his eyes and grumbles that it will be a busy day "with distressingly little time for either sloth or idleness" through such classic observations as "To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance." Everett, who is fast becoming one of the screen's most irresistible presences, sails through this production with the aplomb of a yacht. With his sleek good looks, and his inexaustible range of nuance, he is An Ideal Wilde, and a man for whom the great Oscar would happily have thrown over his beloved Bosie. Everett's Oscar could well rate an Oscar.
Oliver Parker, who misfired on Shakespeare's "Othello", has done much better by this giant of English letters. Despite a few liberties of which the master might or might not have approved -- tweakings of story, and the discreet flash of breast and buttock -- he's managed a thoroughly enjoyable and generally faithful work of Wildeana.
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