![]() |
| Sarah Snook in The Picture of Dorian Gray. Credit: Marc Brenner |
Williams’ ingenious staging combines live action with multiple video reflections emphasizing Wilde’s theme of deceptive pretty surfaces concealing inner corruption. The intricate video design is by David Bergman. When we first enter the Music Box Theater, we are greeted by a gigantic screen and an empty stage. Snook is first discovered way upstage being filmed. The actual actress is dwarfed by her cinematic reproduction. As she switches roles, she employs simple props like a paintbrush to denote the artist Basil Hallward and a cigarette for the hedonistic Lord Harry Wotton to puff. She is then fitted with a blonde wig in order to become the self-absorbed Dorian Gray and then something miraculous happens. Various versions of Snook as different characters appear on the screens and she interacts with herself, creating the illusion of a stage full of actors. This reinforces the theme of surface versus soul.
As the evening progresses, the screens multiply, flying in and out of the action, creating a ballet of reality conflicting with reproduction. The action sometimes spills backstage and into the bowels of the theater, recreating a low dive. At one point, an entire dinner party is simulated as five Snooks dine with the genuine article (it’s hard to tell which is the real one.) Marg Howell’s sumptuous Victorian-era costumes come in handy here in distinctly differentiating the characters, and a special shout-out to hair and make-up supervisor Nick Eynaud. Snook’s acting is magnificent in conjuring up the spectrum of British society from the upper crust to the lower dregs. She’s especially moving in depicting Dorian’s conflict over his narcissistic indulgence and eventual guilt. She’s also hilariously inept as the actress Sybil Vane, Dorian’s love object, purposefully acting badly as Juliet.
Sarah Snook in The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Credit: Marc Brenner
Sybil is one of the few female roles and Snook’s easy leaping back and forth over the gender line emphasizes the queer sensibility of Wilde’s original. Lord Harry is obviously sexually attracted to Dorian and acting on the love that dare not speak its name is most likely among the many “sins” that Dorian commits during his pursuit of pleasure at all costs. 
Sarah Snook in The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Credit: Marc Brenner
Modern technology is also more directly interjected into this 19th century tale, but the contemporary flourishes do not feel forced. It seems like the most natural thing in the world for Lord Harry and his Billie Burke-like aunt to whip out their I-phones to text their snide witticisms on London society and for the stagehands to inject them with Botox as they sip tea. In one bravura sequence, Snook as Dorian alters his/her appearance through filters on an I-phone which is projected on one of the giant screens. Dorian literally changes before our very eyes. All these clicks and tweaks are executed by Snook while delivering Wilde’s scintillating prose, seemingly without taking a breathe. A mini-tour de force within a larger one.
While Sarah Snook is believably performing two dozen characters, Denzel Washington is giving a showy, actor-ly accounting of the title role in Shakespeare’s Othello at the Barrymore while his above-the-title co-star Jake Gyllenhaal focuses on the inner workings of Othello’s nemesis Iago and shows us more of the character than the actor. Kenny Leon’s high-profile production is making the headlines because of its exorbitant ticket prices (the top ducat is nearly $1,000). The big query on many theatergoers’ minds is: is the revival really worth that much? That’s an individual question of taste and priority, but my take is this is a decent enough production which grips the audience and imparts the Bard’s intense depiction of jealousy. It’s not spectacular but it’s a satisfying evening.
Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal
in Othello.
Credit: Julieta Cervantes





