Ronke Adekoluejo

The Importance of Being Earnest: NT Live

20/02/25

Dominion Cinema, Edinburgh

Despite having lived a mere thirty-minute walk from Morningside’s Dominion Cinema for the past decade, we’ve somehow failed to set foot inside – and we dare to call ourselves cinephiles! So tonight’s NT Live screening of The Importance of Being Earnest is extra exciting for us, as it’s also an opportunity to explore a new venue.

So let’s begin with that. The Dominion is undeniably boojie; indeed, it’s the fanciest cinema either of us has ever graced. The design is art deco (think flocked wallpaper, geometric shapes and a colour palette of gold, red and black); our seat is a super-comfy reclining sofa, with privacy screens and side tables. We pour our drinks (sparkling water and alcohol-free lager, since you ask) and sit back, feet up, more than ready to enjoy ourselves in these opulent surroundings.

I’ve seen, read and taught this play so many times that I know it almost by heart, but that’s not to its detriment. After all, the script is so packed with recognisable aphorisms that few in the audience are likely to be surprised by what is said; with Earnest, it’s all in the delivery.

And what delivery it is! Directed by Max Webster, this is an overt celebration of queerness, Wilde’s subtext amplified to the nth degree. From the opening number, where Algernon (Ncuti Gatwa) shimmers in pink-sequinned drag, to the exuberant Mardi Gras-style finale, the closet door is flung wide open, making for a fabulously unsubtle show. To quote the wild wit himself, “moderation is a fatal thing; nothing succeeds like excess.” Webster has certainly taken this to heart.

The plot – for those who need a reminder – is at once frivolous and deadly serious. On the surface, it’s a frothy farce, all mistaken identity and foolish foppery. Underneath, it’s about repression – about the lengths people are forced to go to when their very natures are outlawed. Unbeknownst to each other, both Algernon and his best friend, Jack (Hugh Skinner), have found inventive ways to circumvent society’s disapproval of their predilections. Algernon has a pretend-friend, Bunbury, whose ill health Algy uses to excuse himself from dreary social events, while Jack has an alter-ego – an imaginary older brother called Ernest – who gets into mischief whenever he visits the city.

But things become complicated when Jack falls in love with Algy’s cousin, Gwendolen (Ronke Adekoluejo), whose mother, Lady Bracknell (Sharon D Clark), is far from pleased about the match. In desperation, Jack confesses his lies to Algy – who, true to form, responds by assuming Ernest’s identity for himself, and heading off to Jack’s country house to woo his pretty young ward, Cecily (Eliza Scanlen). Throw in a conflicted clergyman (Richard Cant), a dithering governess (Amanda Lawrence) and a couple of manservants (both played by Julian Bleach), and the scene is set for some merry mayhem.

The multi-racial casting within a period drama (courtesy of Alastair Coomer and Chloe Blake) gives the piece a contemporary edge, as do the occasional strains of recent-ish pop music and a cheeky allusion to one of London’s gay hotspots. Gatwa’s newfound fame as Dr Who also helps this production to appeal to a hip young audience, as does the sexual fluidity of the characters.

Clark’s depiction of Lady Bracknell is inspired: she brings a whole new dimension to the part, dispelling all my preconceptions of the character. Here, those oh-so-familiar lines are imbued with a haughty charm to create a formidable British-Jamaican matriarch without so much of a hint of Dench. Adekoluejo’s Gwendolen is a chip off the old block, saved from monstrousness by her cleverness and humour. In contrast, Scanlen’s Cecily is deliciously weird, a mix of doe-eyed intensity, sweetness and steel. But there are no weak links here: even Bleach, in the minor roles of Lane and Merriman, makes his mark, creating two distinct but equally absurd personae, evoking laughter with the simplest of smirks or stumbles.

More than anything, though, this is Skinner and Gatwa’s show, the focus firmly on the men’s friendship and their journey towards coming out. Their performances are jubilant and euphoric, and yet deceptively weighty, carrying with them real emotional heft. I can’t help thinking about Wilde, condemned to hard labour for his homosexuality, and wondering what he’d make of this? Surely, it would gladden his heart to see his characters finally set free.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Chevalier

14/06/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Chevalier is the latest Hollywood film to cast light on an important Black historical figure, previously relegated to a footnote. It’s too little, too late of course, but at least it is a start…

Kelvin Harrison Jr plays the titular Chevalier, Joseph Bologne, a young Black prodigy. The illegitimate son of Georges de Bologne (Jim High), a wealthy plantation owner, and Nanon (Ronke Adekoluejo), an enslaved Senegalese woman, Joseph’s musical proficiency spurs his father to uproot him from Guadeloupe, dumping him in a posh Parisian conservatory, where his violin skills – and knowledge of courtly etiquette – can be honed. Fortunately for Joseph, he is as good with a foil as he is with a bow, and his ability to lunge and parry proves useful, both literally and metaphorically, as he tries to make his way in French society.

The mid-1700s were turbulent times in France, but – for much of this film’s duration – Joseph is closeted from the outside world. Instead, he is protected by his talents, roped in to tutor Marie Antoinette (Lucy Boynton), and fêted by the opera-loving toffs. It’s not all plain sailing, of course: there are repeated slights as well as some open hostility, but – for a while – things seem to be going his way. But when he throws his hat in the ring as a contender to lead the prestigious Paris Opéra, it soon becomes apparent that he has overstepped the mark, and that the establishment will not countenance what they perceive as his presumption. Time to take him down a peg or two, they decide, and a trio of divas, led by La Guimard (Minnie Driver), announce that they will never deign to take orders from a “mulatto”. Joseph appeals to his ally, Marie Antoinette, but she refuses to act. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised to learn that a monarch believes in birthright…

But perhaps the Queen shouldn’t be surprised to learn that a victim will want revenge, and that her rejection is the final straw. Nanon, newly freed and reunited with her son in France, has already made some headway educating him about the ways of the world. Now the scales have truly fallen from his eyes, and there is only one thing for it: the Chevalier must join the revolution.

Directed by Stephen Williams, this is a handsomely mounted film, Stefani Robinson’s script sticking largely to the facts, although there is a little artistic license taken with the central romance, with much made of the scant historical information available. Here, Joseph embarks on a doomed affair with Marie-Josephine (Samara Weaving), wife of the vengeful Marquise de Montalembert (Marton Csokas). I think this is a good idea as, although the characters are all well-drawn, and Harrison Jr is particularly compelling, there’s not an awful lot of plot here. This really is Chevalier‘s main problem: the middle third sags. Another strand would help enormously: I’d love to have learned more about Nanon, for example, and her journey from slave to free woman.

Nonetheless, this is a rewarding and informative film, which will hopefully help to restore Bologne’s name to the musical canon.

3.7 stars

Susan Singfield