The Picture of Dorian Gray, Attic Productions

October 8-18, D. Geraldine Lawson Performing Arts Center, Fincastle, 7:30 pm, 2 hour 30 minute run time including one 15 minute intermission.

Director Angela McNeil has pulled it off: this production brings the creepiness we crave this time of year, along with the depth that a time-honored classic supplies.

Oscar Wilde wrote this timeless fable in 1890, but the play was adapted in 2016 by Wilde's grandson, Merlin Holland. Going in, I was only vaguely familiar with the premise, that there was a portrait of Dorian that aged while the man himself stayed young. 

I was fascinated to discover that the story includes so much more - themes of vanity, honesty, morality, art, and homoeroticism - plus so many of Wilde's famous quips and witticisms! ("Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing" is in there! Also, "There is only one thing worse in the world than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.")

In the end, this story is a tragedy. I counted at least five deaths by the end of it all, and many references to Shakespearean tragedy throughout. Dorian starts out as a shallow, pretty-faced young man and ends up a conscience-wracked lunatic, leaving a string of broken hearts and various crimes in his wake. It seems that his emphasis on image, coupled with the bad influence of his friend Lord Henry, leads to his downfall. But any of us could be Dorian: as McNeil stresses in her director's note, in this age of social media and photo filters, we are all prone to dishonesty and image-obsession. 

It's a tricky script in a tricky space, and McNeil solved many of the challenges with inspired vision and able stagecraft. As I mentioned before, the Lawson Performing Arts Center features a large stage and a large house. While McNeil has not (yet) filled the audience, she found a way to use the large stage to her advantage: careful lighting creates smaller scenes that focus our attention, with a larger structure in the background that eventually features the portrait, looming malevolently behind everything else. 

The set works beautifully, and the lighting and sound are to be deeply commended. McNeil and collaborators created a very effective light-and-sound effect that flashes whenever the altered painting is viewed. It caught me in the gut each time, amounting to a great thrill/shock effect. They also did a good job with some of the "montage" components of Dorian's descent into sin and squalor, through lighting, fog effects, physical acting, and sound we could feel his degradation without needing to spell everything out. The music between scenes was well chosen and evocative, easily covering the sometimes-slow scene changes.

McNeil cleverly inserts a theme of flowers - many characters are carrying roses or tarrying around flower gardens; vases of flowers figure prominently. As a symbol of beauty that does not last, they subtly carry the moral of the story between their petals. I loved this choice. 

Much of the plot revolves around the title character, and Liam Fentress admirably carried this production. He plays Dorian with dignity and pathos. I do confess that when I saw him smile at curtain call, I asked myself, "why didn't we get to see that earlier tonight?" Fentress's lovely smile could have added to both his charm and creepiness, but he chose to portray a more stalwart and troubled Dorian. 

Dorian's primary corruptor, Lord Henry, was played by Pete Farnham. This is a tough part, as it carries nearly all of Wilde's quips and is very text-heavy. Farnham's speech was audible but showed significant disfluencies. You should prepare in advance to listen with patience - the good lines are there, and Farnham picks up cues well without missing a beat, despite a few pauses and "um"s. His affable demeanor adds to the play's coziness, and he delivers a strong and satisfying final line to end the play.

Lord Henry's foil, the sweet artist Basil, who first fell in love with Dorian and painted his magical portrait with the power of that love, is a winning and tragic figure. Basil is ably played by Matthew Ridley. I would have loved to see the homoeroticism played up even more - the character speaks of being mesmerized by Dorian's beauty but I did not see much in the way of loving gazes or lingering touches. Nevertheless, Ridley brings a believable morality and piety that adds depth to the tragedy of the play. 

Other notable performances include Ella Paulos as Sibyl Vane, a very likeable love interest for Dorian who delivered both Shakespearean and Wildean lines with ease. Luke Dillon was a joy in the various parts he played, bringing humor and humanity to each scene. Casey Gentry was a believable and winsome James Vane. And Kelli Hobson and Tara Gleason each lit up the stage with their easy, clear speech and magnetic presence. I especially enjoyed Tara Gleason's portrayals of Mrs. Vane and Lady Harley. 

McNeil told us that this production is set in the years 2000-2020, though this was hardly obvious besides the appearance of the occasional blackberry or laptop. The costumes were hard to pin down, in terms of time period, and seemed to vary in provenance. I expected at some point for Dorian to show his vanity by taking selfies or something, but this did not happen. Performers' accents also varied in provenance. But none of the variation bothered me; it rather spoke to the timelessness and universality of the tale. 

Fincastle is a long drive for me, but on the way home I had plenty to think about. The discrepancy between how Dorian looked and who he really was speaks to issues we all wrestle with. And the theater is a perfect place to explore it, since every actor - indeed the whole enterprise - relies upon that discrepancy to create a special type of magic. Somehow, the deceptions of the theater still manage to convey deeper truths, and that's one thing that keeps me coming back.