The Importance of Being Earnest – National Theatre, London

Writer: Oscar Wilde

Director: Max Webster

St Valentine’s Day 1895 was both a happy and a sad day in the history of our theatre. Happy because it saw the opening of the irrepressible comedy The Importance of Being Earnest, and sad because its writer, Oscar Wilde, was arrested after the first performance, his career being effectively ended. Wilde’s perceived crime was partaking in “the love that dares not speak its name”. Therefore, there is a satisfying irony in welcoming a revival in which the name, if not exactly spoken, is suggested very loudly indeed. It is all about as camp as it is possible to get away with while staying faithful to a plot that respects the social conventions of the Victorian age.

Apart from bizarre sequences at the beginning and the end, this revival strives to be traditional, as emphasised by a set that has a proscenium arch stage, complete with red velvet curtain, within the Lyttelton Theatre stage. Rae Smith’s set designs, not over-elaborate but dazzling, and her glorious period costumes provide a feast for the eye, while the ear is treated to a bombardment of Wilde wit, spoken with great clarity by all the actors. Much credit goes to sound designer Nicola T Chang for achieving this in a venue where acoustics can be a problem.

Television’s current Doctor Who, Nouti Gatwa, travels back in time to the late 19th Century, playing the upstart Algernon Moncrieff, who lives a double life, using his own name when in London and that of Bunberry when in the country. Gatwa does nothing to dowse the camp fire in director Max Webster’s jaunty production, and his presence tests whether or not avid Whovians will become wild about Oscar. He possesses a natural air of impudence that is perfect for this role, and he is equalled by Hugh Skinner as Jack (known in the country as Earnest) Worthing, who had been discovered as a baby in a handbag at Victoria Station.

Algernon has an eye for Jack’s ward, Cecily (Eliza Scanlen) and Jack for Algernon’s cousin Gwendolyn (Ronke Adékoluéjó), both ladies insisting that they could only become romantically attached to a man whose name is Earnest. Perhaps the play is best known for a two-word line spoken by Algernon’s aunt, Lady Bracknell, played here by the prodigiously talented Sharon D Clarke, an unforgettable Ma Rainey on this same stage. Sadly, she does not sing the line, but she drops it in with relish. Her regal appearances in the first and last scenes support this predominantly youthful production, like sturdy bookends.

Revivals of this play in London and elsewhere are not exactly rare, but Webster’s sparkling version brings out all the cutting observations of an Irish outsider looking in on the absurdities of English society. It not so much revives a classic comedy as it refreshes it.

Runs until 25 January 2025