As a concept, Lee Trull’s wild and wacky adaptation of The Importance of Being Earnest seems so promising. Take Oscar Wilde’s famous play and update it with modern slang, a bubblegum-pink set by artist Rob Wilson, and hipster glasses—can’t lose, right? But somewhere in the midst of all those false identities and roller skates, something doesn’t fully translate, and the play becomes an odd jumble of good ideas left to roll around on their own.
Hip spins on classic texts have certainly worked before—the film Clueless, and its “As if!” updates to Jane Austen’s Emma, pops to mind—but with Wilde/Earnest, the lines between original and new are so jaggedly drawn it’s like being tugged two ways at once. Trull, who also directs, has his characters switch between Wilde’s proper phrasing and forced-sounding contemporary jargon (imagine your dad trying to repeat “what the kids say”). It’s jarring, and even the cast seems more comfortable speaking the formal dialogue over shoehorned quips about blogs and Uber.
That the cast is able to push through the words is a testament to their talent, which Kitchen Dog Theater has certainly attracted plenty of in recent years. Matt Lyle, the pen behind last summer’s smash Barbecue Apocalypse, here comes onstage to playfully prance as an utterly charming Algernon. Lyle’s idle playboy is juxtaposed with Max Hartman as Jack, who longs to marry Algie’s cousin, Gwendolyn. Jack is also the guardian of a young heiress, Cecily, whom he lodges in the country, a fact which causes further confusion when he admits that he’s been leading a double life of sorts: Jack in the country, Earnest in the city. The name specifics are terribly important to all involved.
Hartman isn’t given much to work with as the straight man, and the candy-colored action tends to swirl around him. As his betrothed Gwendolyn, Jenny Ledel is equal parts saucy minx and repressed child, her cool-girl confidence seeping away when her mother, the formidable Mrs. Bracknell, is around.
With an Edith Head vibe and impeccably chic outfits (Melissa Panzarello’s costumes are bright and clever), Leah Spillman brings a fresh take to the iconic character. She also embodies Chausable, a role normally played by a man. This gives a promising spin on the sweet romance Chausable forms with Cecily’s tutor, Miss Prism (Taylor Anne Ramsey), but it unfortunately dead-ends due to the double casting.
Martha Harms is girlish and appealing as the young Cecily, but Trull’s alteration to Wilde’s original ending casts her entire character in doubt. At the conclusion of Wilde/Earnest‘s 95 minutes, it’s hard not to wonder what this staging concept—a world of witty design nods, artfully bored interns, and people jumping on trampolines—might have been like with a more faithful script.
