Oscar Wilde

It took over two decades for Robert Morley to bring Oscar Wilde to the screen. Morley scored his first big break playing Oscar Wilde in what might be described as an off Drury Lane theater because homosexuality was the love that dare not speak its name in 1936. In 1960 in America it was still not spoken though in the United Kingdom it was starting to get a whisper or two.

One of the great men of literature was brought down by Victorian mores and justice when he happened to run afoul of a monstrously homophobic father who accused him of seducing his son.

The movie-going public had a double dose of Oscar Wilde in 1960 with Peter Finch giving an equally brilliant performance as Wilde in another film which is seen a lot more often because the producer had the foresight to do it in color. So Morley's feature kind of took a back seat.

Both films concentrate totally on the trial, the first one for libel that Wilde stupidly brought against the Marquis of Queensbury, father of his inamorata Lord Alfred Douglas. Douglas is played by young John Neville and he's a weak callow youth. I thought Neville's interpretation of the part lacking the bite that John Fraser's had in the Finch film or of Jude Law in the 1997 film Wilde which starred Stephen Fry.

In the Citadel Film series book on the Films of James Mason, Mason himself said that he liked what Ralph Richardson did with the part of Edward Carson better than his own performance. Richardson could easily have been labeled the shark of Old Bailey. He is devastatingly brilliant in his performance. Mason's words were extremely generous to a colleague he obviously respected and admired. Mason was Carson in the Peter Finch film and he was pretty good himself.

Phyllis Calvert was the long suffering Mrs. Wilde with whom Oscar had two sons. Poor Wilde was born a hundred years too soon. Today he'd be Ian McKellan and proudly marry Lord Alfred Douglas for better or worse, richer or poorer. Given Bosy's habits it would have been poorer very soon.

Robert Morley was a great actor who could play a great range of parts from comic to tragic. We're fortunate indeed to have his breakthrough performance preserved

Across the decades, cinematic directors have sought to discover the essence of the noted 18th century humorous, poet and playwright Oscar Wilde. Some films shower him with so many accolades, they drown his image in wine and sexual innuendos. Other movies hardly delve into the magical but certainly secret complexity of the talented English writer, using his notorious trial, tribulations and eventual imprisonment as Gris, reducing him to a mere scandalous shell of his life. Perhaps, there are many film versions of Mr. Wilde, but only one stands out which personifies the ideal man. I believe this offering, "Oscar Wilde," (1960) portrayed by enormously talented Robert Morley as the playwright, is the best. True Mr. Morley is such a versatile actor in other films, some would suggest his comic side, or his stuffy, droll demeanor, detract from this impressive writer. I disagree. Despite his inner personal conflicts, Morley exemplifies the quick wit, delightful charm and social elegance befitting the true character of the 18th century cosmopolitan gentleman. Moreley more than adequately depicts the larger than life of Oscar Wilde. Ralph Richardson, plays, Sir Edward Carson the prosecuting attorney who's sole ambition was to destroy the popular writer and his libertine attitudes. Although seeking to protect the upper-class from scandal, his attack was nothing short of evisceral. As one newspaper noted at the trial, the prosecutor was seen to be as objective as a circling shark. All in all, this film is an excellent attempt at epitomizing the historical icon, and is accepted as the very best to-date. ****

Oscar Wilde reputation is set for all time. He was a brilliant, witty writer of graceful style. He was also a bi-sexual, whose affair with Lord Alfred Douglas led to a tragic final fall when exposed in court. What most people forget is that the trial where he was exposed was a libel suit against Lord Alfred's brutal and mad father the Marquess of Queensbury (the one who gave us the rules for boxing). Queensbury hated his sons and their mother, and his antics helped lead to the suicide of one of the sons (the private secretary of Prime Minister, Lord Roseberry). Queensbury disliked Wilde for his influence over Lord Alfred and his unspeakable homosexual affair with his son. He sent him a note on a card, "To Oscar Wilde, disguised as a "somdomite"." The Marquess presumed that by misspelling sodomite he was protecting himself but smearing Wilde. Wilde had an opportunity then to ignore the slur and go abroad for awhile (which most men in his position would have done). He decided to sue - goaded into it by Lord Alfred (who saw this as a safe opportunity to hit at his father). Never has such a critically important legal decision been made on such a stupid basis.

The barrister for Queensbury was Edward Carson, one of England's greatest lawyers. He is the model for the barrister played by Robert Donat in "The Winslow Boy" (based on Carson's defense of young Archer-Shee in the 1911 legal action). Carson was a master of cross-examination, and he had plenty of information that Queensbury (and Wilde's many enemies) had gathered about his sexual activities. But Wilde was able to fend off the attack for hours, until he reached a series of questions about a telegraph boy who was available for sex for hire. Carson had been unable to make a dent into Wilde's hide so far, and then out of sheer desperation asked, "Did you kiss him?" Wilde was amazed - the question did throw him. "Did I kiss him?", he repeated. "Yes", answered Carson with a lack of real interest. Wilde had been trumping Carson with one-liners that left the court in stitches. Instead of saying, "Of course not!" or "How dare you!", which would have helped, Wilde quipped the sentence in the summary line above. And Carson saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Wilde never recovered after that.

The jury was able to absolve Queensbury of libel (after all, it was shown that Wilde was homosexual). The authorities now held back for nearly twelve hours from going after Wilde. They simply hoped he would flee to the continent. Instead, Wilde decided to stay and fight. It is the second trial that really demolished him. He was now on trial of committing sodomy, and the evidence was too overwhelming. Found guilty, he was sentenced to three years in prison. He left prison and lived in France until he died in Paris, a broken, impoverished wreck, in 1900.

If you are a homosexual, Wilde is one of the great martyr's to the cause. If you love good writing his end is a dismal tragedy. All the films of his life retell it's denouement. It never gets any better in the retelling - there is no repaired last act. Even (historically) a "reformed", right-wing supporting Lord Alfred rejected the image of his "Bosie" period in later years - claiming he never was a homosexual. One ends just pitying Wilde, unless one is just a reactionary type or a mindless idiot like Queensbury.

Robert Morley never gave a better dramatic performance on film (as opposed to his comic performances) than in this film. Witness his moment on the witness stand, when he realizes the result of his blunder. The cast of John Neville, Ralph Richardson, Edward Chapman, and Dennis Price do equally well in this tale of talent that was shot down so stupidly. I certainly recommend watching it...and then reading "Dorian Gray", "The Importance of Being Earnest", "Salome", "The Ballad of the Reading Gaol", to get a glimmer of the talent that was smashed beyond repair.

The other comment describes Sir Edward Carson as the prosecutor of Oscar Wilde. That's incorrect.

What happened was that, in a fit of madness, Oscar Wilde sued the Marquis of Queensbury (the father of his lover, Sir Alfred Douglas and the author of the rules of modern boxing) for slander, based on an accusation by Queensbury that Wilde was a 'somdomite' (sic). All of Wilde's friends tried to talk him out of it - Victorian England worked on a 'don't ask, don't tell' basis, and Wilde was quite safe had he done nothing. But his success as a playwright emboldened him, and he filed suit.

Carson was retained by the Marquis to defend him. The famous cross-examination occurred during the trial of Wilde's slander complaint. He was destroyed on cross examination, in such a way that the nature of his lifestyle became too public to be ignored. Carson, after he had won the slander case, actually tried to dissuade the Crown from prosecuting, but to no avail. A criminal prosecution did follow, in which Carson was not involved, ending in Wilde's conviction, and a 2 year prison sentence that effectively ended his career and life.

Carson, an Irish Protestant, earned my own condemnation for his role in opposing Irish independence. But in the Wilde case, he was responding for the defense, and he took active steps thereafter to prevent a prosecution. Wilde was the principal cause of his own legal destruction.

I am a fan of both Oscar and Robert but am very disappointed in Morley's portrayal of Wilde. Physically, he is both too old, too short, too plain and too fat to capture the magnificent physical presence of Oscar. I had trouble also with the script which practically obliterates Oscar's homosexuality. John Neville is too old and stilted to give us the beauty and appeal of Bosie. Oscar's well known sardonic wit is also missed in this interpretation. I much preferred Stephen Fry's later performance. When I think of Oscar, I think of glamour, vanity, beauty, genius, all of which is missing in this 1959 attempt. 5 out of 10 for Phyllis Calvert and Ralph Richardson.