Dorian Gray is the newest movie by Oliver Parker, starring Ben Barnes, Colin Firth, Ben Chaplin and Rebecca Hall. It’s an adaptation of Oscar Wilde‘s novel, which I’ve reviewed here.

Plot:
Dorian (Ben Barnes) comes to London after his grandfather’s death; a naive, well-meaning young man. The painter Basil (Ben Chaplin) soon discovers him as his newest muse and introduces him to the high society, especially the cynical Lord Henry (Colin Firth). After the painting is done, Dorian gives his soul so that it ages instead of him. Thoroughly corrupted by Lord Henry, Dorian’s excesses get more and more depraved as his painting gets uglier and uglier.

This… well, this is not a good movie. I think that’s the simplest and yet the most fitting way to put it. Ben Barnes was miscast, the plot was changed, and not to its advantage and Oscar Wilde’s wit was practically eradicated. What’s left is a boring, trite and too long film.

When I’m saying that Ben Barnes was miscast, I’m not saying it because he isn’t blond. That Dorian Gray is blond in the book isn’t essential. What is essential is that he’s pretty – and Ben Barnes is pretty. Unfortunately, he lacks acting skills and charisma. And while nobody cares about that when he plays Prince Caspian, as Dorian Gray it’s pretty damning. [Look, you know what I’m saying here? I’m saying, Stuart Townsend was the better Dorian. And I would not say that lightly.]

Colin Firth would have been a surprisingly good Lord Henry (I’ve always pictured him more as Basil than as Henry) if Oliver Parker and Toby Finlay (the writer) hadn’t decided to make him completely evil. From the way the camera works around him and the things he gets to say, I was always waiting for a Mwuahahaha.

Actually, most of the blame is to be laid at Toby Finlay’s feet. Making a Oscar Wilde adaptation with practically no epigrams is a bold choice which might have worked but didn’t. Mostly that is because Finlay fucked with the plot, extending it well into the 20s, introducing Lord Henry’s daughter, who falls in love with Dorian and whose love ultimately makes a better man out of him (*retch*) and making Dorian’s “indiscretions” an explicit spectacle.

And while I have no problems accepting that if you sold your soul, a picture could age for you, I have like 5000 problems with a young gentleman openly throwing an orgy, including gay kisses, in 1890s London. Sorry. That just doesn’t work.

Summarising: Parker and Finlay concentrate on the gothic horror. Unfortunately, that’s the wrong thing to focus on and the movie stays boring until the overdramatic ending.