Because theatre has so many moving parts, several of which are moving actors, who come complete with independent sensibilities, stylistic adventure in the theatre is a dangerous game: if you don’t get all those moving parts coordinated, the show will crash in incoherence. But, when you do get all that machinery in sync, stylistic adventure can be thrilling. For the most part, thrill is what you get from this United Players production of Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband.
The script itself is a challenging mix of styles.
In the story, it’s the very end of the nineteenth century and Lord Robert Chiltern is a wealthy and highly regarded member of the British House of Commons. But, when the scheming Mrs. Chevely arrives at a party in his lavish London home — he has paintings by Corot in his music room — she threatens to upend his life and career. Bearing proof that his fortune was built on a corrupt act, she blackmails him: either he suppresses a damning report about a fraudulent scheme she has invested in, or she will ruin him. So there’s melodrama.
Chiltern’s best friend, Lord Goring, clearly a stand-in for Wilde, spouts epigrams with every breath. “I love talking about nothing,” he says. “It’s the only thing I know anything about.” So An Ideal Husband is also a comedy of manners, a simultaneous critique and celebration of superficiality.
There’s farce.
And, most engagingly, An Ideal Husband is a sincere exploration of morality, moralism, and the difference between the two. In 2025, this thematic territory could not be more relevant. As a young politician, Chiltern fell under the sway of one Baron Arnheim and his “philosophy of power… gospel of gold”. When Chiltern describes to Goring his relationship with Arnheim, he might as well be Donald Trump talking about his mentor Roy Cohn. But, unlike Trump, Chiltern has a check on his corruption, his wife Gertrude, who idealizes him. Chiltern is terrified that, if he confesses his imperfection, Gertrude — “you, whom I love so wildly” — will abandon him.
Wilde reveals the cruelty of Gertrude’s moralistic insistence that her husband stay on the pedestal upon which she has placed him. Lord Goring’s defence of imperfection is the script’s most moving element — “Nobody is incapable of doing a foolish thing… a wrong thing” — especially given the context of Wilde’s homosexuality, which, when it became public, was used to ruin him. “I would to God that I had been able to tell the truth, to live the truth,” Chiltern tells his friend.
What is a director to do with all this?
Co-directors Moya O’Connell and Amber Lewis go big, infusing the potentially disparate strands with unifying stylistic intensity, while still allowing them unique stylistic accents. Lord Chiltern and Gertrude are profoundly emotionally invested. Lord Goring and his love interest Mabel Chiltern (Lord Chiltern’s sister) are equally committed to their flamboyance: shimmying and gesturing, they are, essentially, party kids.
This approach works as a unified whole.
In another bold move, O’Connell and Lewis have cast Hayley Sullivan, a woman, as Lord Goring. Other actors, both male and female, also appear in drag: this choice is part of the overall exuberance, but it’s also an understated commentary on gender roles.
Sullivan is a knockout. Suavely handsome in her trim suits, she sends up her character’s maleness. She also takes such delight in Goring’s double-edged frivolity that she wins laughs with the simplest lines. When Goring realizes that he’s going to have to stay in town because his best friend’s future is at stake, she says, “Oh, I shall have to give up going to the Berkshires” with so much spin it’s hilarious.
Similarly, Kyla Ward, who is still studying acting at Capilano University, scores big time as Goring’s love interest, Mabel. Ward delivers Mabel’s absurdities with both slyness and ease, which is a tricky thing to do — and a triumph.
I’m also a big fan of Emma Newton’s work as Gertrude Chiltern and Chris Cope’s performance as her husband Lord Chiltern. These two cover vast emotional territory and negotiate multiple changes of understanding.
There are rough patches elsewhere. The script opens with a conversation between party girls Mrs. Marchmont and Lady Basildon. The actors in these roles hit everything so hard I thought we might be in for a long night. And my take is that Cat Smith’s Mrs. Chevely is too… predetermined. I felt like the actor was showing us emotions as opposed to inhabiting responsiveness.
But there are more riches elsewhere, notably in the staging and design.
This production opens with a stunner of a dance sequence that was choregraphed by Jerry Burchill, who also plays Duchess Priscilla and Goring’s dry-as-a-martini manservant Phipps: you haven’t lived until you’ve seen the gentry do the jerk. And the scene changes, also presumably choreographed by Burchill, are so extravagantly physicalized some received applause on opening night.
Speaking of scene changes, Omanie Elias’s set is a mini-masterpiece. Its elegant columns of architecture transform magically from room to room to room. Why isn’t this woman working for Vancouver’s big stages, like the Arts Club and Bard on the Beach? She should be.
And Madeleine Polak’s costumes: man oh man oh man. They’re gorgeous and they just keep coming. So many overlaid textures. Such tasty combinations of colour. The cutout fabric on the billowing sleeves of one of Lord Goring’s shirts. The gauzy, floral-patterned, lavender overlay on Gertrude Chiltern’s final gown. The innocent little polka dots in the top layer of Mabel Chiltern’s playful pale pink dress. Polak has just completed her BFA in Theatre Design and Production at UBC. Prepare to watch her career take off.
Congratulations to co-directors O’Connell and Lewis on their big swing. They knocked it out of the park.
AN IDEAL HUSBAND by Oscar Wilde. Directed by Moya O’Connell with Amber Lewis. A United Players production. At the Jericho Arts Centre until June 22. (Tickets and information)
PHOTO CREDIT: Suave? Yes, suave. (This photo of Hayley Sullivan is by Matt Reznek. The costume is by Madeleine Polak.)
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