OSCAR WILDE'S COMEDY.
WE shall not be suspected of any great sympathy with the methods and the feats of Mr. Oscar Wilde. In this journal we have always disclaimed respect for the forms of charlatanism in which it has pleased him to indulge, and which be would, we suspect, be about the first himself to admit. But a charlatan may be a man of conspicuous ability ; and on the withdrawal from the stage for the present of his first-actcd comedy, after a career of great success, it is but appropriate in us as it is fair to him to signalise the addition to our acted plays of a comedy of society-manners pure and simple which may fairly claim its place among the recognised names in that almost extinct class of drama. We have, indeed, too much amongst us of Ibsen and his parallels not to note it with satisfaction. We can ourselves find nothing in A Doll's House 'beyond a fairly interesting domestic drama, with a story and characters which are nothing if not old, a kind of Martin .Chuzzlewit married to Dora Copperfleld, and a type of such very old-fashioned heredity as belongs to a gentleman who has the gout because his father drank; and we are grateful to Mr. Wilde for a straightforward comedy which professes no purpose but -comedy's best and truest,—to entertain. A reproduction of con- temporary "polite conversation" after the manner which we noticed long since in reviewing a republication of Swift, and which Sheridan idealised in the School for Scandal, Lady Win- dermere's Fan, as a specimen of true comedy, is a head and shoulders above any of its contemporaries for some years sync. It has nothing in common with farcical comedy, with didactic comedy, or the " literary " comedy of which we have heard so much of late from disappointed authors, whose principal claim to literature appears to consist in being undramatic. It is a distinguishing note of Mr. Wilde that he has con- descended to leave his business, and has written a workman- like play as well as a good comedy. Without that it would be worthless, and how much he may owe to his manager's skill and help, according to another endless controversy, lies between those two, and concerns us not. If Mr. Alexander is as helpful as he is modest, it may be much. For the character -of Lord Windermere affords him little opportunity of personal distinction. Indeed, the peculiarity as well as the weakness of the play consists in the fact that the interest lies entirely with two women,—as well acted as they well could be.
The story, for those who have not seen it, lies in a nutshell. We regret the disappearance of the old method of publication, for Lady Windermere would be worth reading. Lord Winder- -mere has married for love a young lady whose mother they suppose dead, but she turns up in the guise of a divorcée of some notoriety in society, and Lord Windermere submits to be blackmailed in order to conceal the fact from his wife, and
pays her many sums of money. The object of this Mrs. Erlynne, as she calls herself, is, like the heroine of Forget-me- not, to regain a place in society, and she gets an invitation to a ball given by Lady Windermere, who, meanwhile, has been informed by some good-natured friends of the gossip of society about her husband and Mrs. Erlynne, whose appear- ance at the ball causes a sensation. Outraged in her feelings, Lady Windermere leaves a note to wish her lord good-bye, and flies to the rooms of an admirer, a certain Lord Darling- ton. Thither Mrs. Erlynne, who intercepts the letter, follows to save her daughter, for whom her heart and better feelings are thus suddenly aroused. Determined to save her at any cost, she takes upon herself the ownership of an accusing fan, her husband's gift, which, on the rooms being invaded by a circle of men, he being one of them, she mislays in a room she hides in. In again losing herself, Mrs. Erlynne thus saves her daughter, who at the end is thoroughly reconciled with the husband who really loves her ; while Mrs. Erlynne finds a husband in an adoring lordling, and leaves England, where she never knows "whether the fogs cause the depressed people, or the depressed people cause the fogs," the secret of her relationship to the heroine remaining a secret still.
It will be seen that there is nothing new in the old story which has more or less framed half the comedies of intrigue which fine-folk comedy has so freely inspired. But the novelty of drama lies in treatment ; and while there is no suggestion of coarseness in Mr. Wilde's play, there is plenty both of good feeling and of complex character, while there is opportunity for good acting, which is plentifully used. Miss Winifred Emery plays Lady Windermere with a charm and skill which has placed her quite in the front rank amongst our emotional actresses, the more remarkable because she was not the first representative of the part. Her acting suggests both heart and brains, and most effective is the contrast which she supplies with Miss Marian Terry, who, if not a little over- shadowed by the fame of her elder sister, would bear even a better stage-name than she does. To those who remember the eldest and earliest Kate, she brings many curious shades of association. These old stage-families, to which both the Terrys and the Emerys belong, have singular aristocracies of their own, which, with a Gray or Webster at their side, it is curious to contrast with the Vane Tempests and Nutcombe Goulds, who bring new blood of another kind into the theatrical ranks. Mr. Gould is a quite remarkable figure in the comedy for bearing and breeding, combined with quiet force and skill. Indeed, the whole cast is in its manner as noteworthy as the play. Mr. Wilde's dialogue, which is the chief feature of the comedy—as, given the essen- tials, of course it should be—is throughout conveyed with point and appreciation. The genial and blasé tone which modern society of the special class affects is as admirably caught and sustained as were the would-be smart- nesses of Miss Neveroul and her friends in Swift's Polite Con- versation. All the close observation and thought which the comedy-writer requires Mr. Wilde has brought to bear upon the " puppets " with whom, in his capacity of advertising author, he has waged newspaper-war, and his puppets have re- paid him in kind. If his Duchess is rather trying, it is more because she indulges in certain odd circular sweeps with her arm which nobody could possibly perform in a drawing-room, than because duchesses are supposed to be unlike other people. In conversational respects, they are perhaps as "much of a much- ness" as Mr. Wilde makes them. The way in which she secures a fresh young Australian for her meek daughter, who is sent out of the way to inspect photographs, or to look at the moon, whenever her mother proposes to talk scandal, and her delightful summaries of the male sex, who "grow old, but never grow good," and are brutes who only want to be cooked for, are very amusing stage-talk to listen to. Another refreshing element in the play is the entire absence of the stage-servant, who seems so terrible a necessity in comedy. We all know what use even Sheridan made of them, amusing as that was. And to find nothing but a man-servant and maid-servant, who do just what they are engaged for, their business and no more, is a piece of " realism " in the right direction. Indeed, the whole comedy, its plan and its writing, its people and its dresses, its colouring and its tone, deserve, as we think, these lines of record from us on its withdrawal from the boards, as an unique specimen in our day—as far as we know, absolutely unique—apart from all questions of its merits and demerits, of the comedy of fine-life manners. Since the club scene in Money, there has been no simply "man's scene" so clearly marked as that in Lord Darlington's chambers. Otherwise, Lord Lytton's favourite sentimentalities in Money interfere with it woefully as a comedy-picture. Not the least pleasant reminiscence to playgoers, in connection with Lady Winder- mere's Fan, will be the very amusing skit which it evoked at another comedy theatre, under the title of The Poet and the Puppets. As a thoroughly good-humoured piece of burlesque, not so much on the play as on the eccentricities and methods of the well-known author, it has not often been beaten. Not the least amusing reminiscence, on the other hand, will be the ferocious wrath which, on its first appearance, the play pro- voked among the regular stage-critics, almost to a man. Except that Mr. Wilde smoked a cigarette when called on, it is difficult to see why,—unless it was because the comedy ran off the beaten track, which is just what they are always deprecating.
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