Importance Of Being Earnest Thea Movie Review By
James Berardinellith
Importance of Being Earnest, The A movie review by James Berardinelli The chief pleasure to be found in any version of Oscar Wilde's play, The Importance of Being Earnest, is the dialogue, and Oliver Parker's re-interpretation is no different. All of the great lines are here: "The very essence of romance is uncertainty", "To lose one parent...may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness", "Thirty-five is an attractive age. London is full of women of the highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty-five for years", "All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his", "Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately, in England at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever." The downside to Wilde's delight in toying with language is that he doesn't pay much attention to details like characterization or plot development. To the degree that these are present, they are afterthoughts, included simply to provide structure. In the name of modernizing The Importance of Being Earnest, writer/director Parker has taken liberties with the source material.
He has cut, pasted, re-arranged, and added. Despite this, however, Earnest remains faithful to the spirit (if not always the letter) of Wilde's text. The advantages and drawbacks are pretty much the same, as well. The story is insubstantial, the characters simply drawn, and the dialogue rich with wit and humor. If you like motion pictures that rely almost exclusively on words, this film will be a godsend.
It also helps that the dialogue is recited by actors of talent and charisma. Wilde's lines are not merely spoken; they are relished. Unfortunately, the film lacks the frothy, whimsical tone of another recent Wilde adaptation, An Ideal Husband (also directed by Parker), and, as a result, comes across as occasionally slow and plodding. I enjoyed the film for what it is - a mistaken identity farce - but I didn't leave the theater overly enthused. With this cast, this director, and this source material, I expected to be swept away on a wave of enchantment, but nothing close to that happened.
The story centers around a non-existent man named Ernest Worthing. He is the alter-ego of Jack Worthing (Colin Firth), who uses that name whenever he comes to town so he can act in a reckless manner without having to worry about the consequences. Jack is in love with Gwendolen Fairfax (Frances O'Connor), who would marry him if not for the disapproval of her mother, the formidable Lady Bracknell (Judi Dench).
Lady Bracknell's chief objection to Jack is simple - he doesn't know who his parents are. As a baby, he was found abandoned by a kind man who raised him to adulthood and left him a fortune, an estate, and a ward -

pretty Cecily Cardew (Reese Witherspoon).
When Jack's city friend, Algernon Moncrieff (Rupert Everett), learns of Cecily's existence, he has a powerful urge to meet the girl. So, "borrowing" Jack's name of Ernest Worthing, he shows up at Jack's country estate, pretending to be the long-lost black sheep of the family. Cecily is delighted, and she and Algernon fall in love. That's when Jack arrives, followed shortly thereafter by Gwendolen and Lady Bracknell. Mistaken identity complications ensue as everyone tries to find, or be, or not be, Ernest.
A tremendous cast partially offsets the film's curiously docile tone. Rupert Everett, who brought equally as much suave charm and devilish charisma to An Ideal Husband, seems entirely at home amidst the barbs of Wilde's words. Colin Firth, who will forever be known as Mr. Darcy (especially since he has played him twice - once in Pride and Prejudice and once in Bridget Jones's Diary), takes on the Jane Austen-less persona of Jack. Frances O'Connor, also an Austen refugee (she was in Mansfield Park), is appealing as Gwendolen.
Reese Witherspoon, sporting a British accent that rings true, steps out of contemporary mode and shows little difficulty with a period piece. Tom Wilkinson, lately of In the Bedroom, is the meek reverend Dr. Chasuble. And Judi Dench, who seemingly must be in every Miramax-distributed production, lends her name and authority to the proceedings. I have learned from Roger Ebert's review of this film that, at the time The Importance of Being Earnest was written, the term "earnest" was synonymous with "gay". Considering Oscar Wilde's sexuality, this is not surprising, but it adds another level to the manner in which the film can be viewed. The Importance of Being Earnest is regarded in some circles as being Wilde's best work. And, while that may not be apparent from this curiously low-key adaptation, one can still appreciate some of what the text has to offer. Nevertheless, while The Importance of Being Earnest offers opportunities for occasional smiles and chuckles, it doesn't give us a reason to be in the theater beyond Wilde's wit and the actors' performances. For some, that may be enough, but for most, I suspect, it isn't.
The Importance of Being Earnest Film Comedy Not yet rated Join in and have your say Time Out says You might suppose that Oscar Wilde's theatrical evergreen is indestructible. But that would be to reckon without the intervention of 'writer'/director Parker, who really makes a pig's ear of this silk purse. Witherspoon and O'Connor are fine as Cecily and Gwendolen. Firth makes a dour Jack, Everett is Algy to the manner born, and Judi Dench's Lady Bracknell is a no-brainer. But all the actors are up against Parker's mortal dread of being boring. In this respect, the film goes to the opposite extreme of Anthony Asquith's

static 1952 version. Parker encourages everyone to skate across the dialogue as if it were a frozen lake in thaw. The briefest badinage is likely to incur half-a-dozen scene changes, each delivered with an unerring eye for the ugliest composition, a thudding cut, a forced bit of business here, an unwelcome innovation there. (A 'director's cut' runs at 101 min.) TCh. Author: TCh Director ruins 'Being Earnest' Mick LaSalle, Chronicle Movie Critic Published 4:00 am, Friday, May 24, 2002 ï‚·
Photo: HANDOUT Image 1 of R Reese Witherspoon and and Rupert Everett in Oliver Parker's THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST. Photo Courtesy: Paul Chedlow (HANDOUT PHOTO) Image 1 of R Reese Witherspoon and and Rupert Everett in Oliver Parker's THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST. Photo Courtesy: Paul Chedlow (HANDOUT PHOTO) THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST: Comedy. Starring Rupert Everett, Colin Firth, Frances O'Connor and Reese Witherspoon. Directed by Oliver Parker. (PG. 95 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.) Given a competent cast and a reasonable budget, anybody could make a decent film out of the Oscar Wilde play "The Importance of Being Earnest." Just point the camera at whoever is talking. The script will do the work. By contrast, to destroy "The Importance of Being Earnest" to take a big fat wrecking ball to one of the surefire delights of world theater well, that requires energy and invention. That requires a writer-director willing to futz around, get fancy, break up rhythms, add dream sequences and flashbacks and indulge in arbitrary shifts in tone. Oliver Parker does that here, and the result is a frustrating, boring mess. The movie starts with one of Parker's additions. Algy (Rupert Everett), a charming ne'er-do-well, is running through the streets of London, fleeing his creditors. Later in the evening, he meets up with his friend Jack (Colin Firth), and we discover that the two have something in common. They've both invented elaborate fictions that allow them to live reckless secret lives. The device has fascinating unconscious echoes when we realize that, at the time the play debuted, Wilde was only a few months away from having his secret gay life revealed in an annihilating public scandal. The picture is the story of two courtships. Jack is in love with Gwendolyn, played by Frances O'Connor, who gets the best of the movie's few laughs: "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train." And Algy loves Cecily, played by Reese Witherspoon, the cast's weak link. It's not that Witherspoon is bad, just that she can't manage to seem like an English girl, despite a passable English accent. More disappointing is Judi Dench as the imperious Lady Bracknell. Dench should have been ideal for the role, but she makes the character too selfaware to be a figure of fun. Perhaps the director's compulsive tendency toward naturalism got in the actress' way. With a consistency bordering on the perverse, Parker ruins buildups and kills laughs. Sometimes he kills them by overpunching jokes, at other times by underplaying them. He also inserts

pointless action into a film in which nothing can happen unless people are talking. Wors than meaningless are the tableaux we see of Cecily's fantasy life, which have to do with medieval courtly love -- and nothing to do with Wilde or even Cecily's personality. Most damaging of all, Parker imposes on this jubilantly sardonic play a fey, romantic atmosphere something like that of Woody Allen's "A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy" and he reinforces it with jaunty theme music and lots of outdoor shots, as though this were some bucolic romp. The director is suggesting that, however much the characters might fancy themselves modern and cynical, they are under the spell of love, the driving force in the world. Give Parker credit for having a point of view. But it's a bad point of view that leads him into disaster and into collision with Wilde, who was not writing about cynics cavorting within a benevolent universe. Review: ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ ï‚·
mailto:?subject=Review:%20%E2%80%98The%20Importance%20of%20Being%20Earnest%E2%80%99&body=Check%20out%20this%20article%20from%20Variety%3A%20http%3A%2F%2Fvariety.com%2F2002%2Ffilm%2Freviews%2Fthe-importance-of-being-earnest-%2F javascript:window.print() May 12, 2002 | 01:37PM PT Just as one of Oscar Wilde's resourceful gentlemen is Ernest in town and Jack in the country, so it seems that "The Importance of Being Earnest" was a comedy in the last century and a drama in the new one. At least, that's the dumbfounding impression left by writer-director Oliver Parker's utterly miscalculated film adaptation of Wilde's play. Robert Koehler
Just as one of Oscar Wilde’s resourceful gentlemen is Ernest in town and Jack in the country, so it seems that “The Importance of Being Earnest†was a comedy in the last century and a drama in the new one. At least, that’s the dumbfounding impression left by writer-director Oliver Parker’s utterly miscalculated film adaptation of Wilde’s play. Trims in the text might be expected, though not necessary for an under-two-hour feature; and the opening up of the stagebound action is decidedly a mixed blessing. But what washes out the joys of Wilde’s usually delicious concoction is a tone that bafflingly drifts toward seriousness, especially whenever thesps Colin Firth’s Jack and Judi Dench’s Lady Bracknell take center-screen. Wilde fans will turn away in dismay, with only costume drama diehards likely to support this on the big screen. Pic’s ancillary hopes are even sure to be dimmed, since the Miramax release opens just weeks before Criterion Collection’s unveiling of a freshly restored DVD edition of Anthony Asquith’s stagebound but infinitely preferable 1952 version starring an indelible Michael Redgrave as Jack and Dame Edith Evans as Bracknell. Earlier picture also points to everything that is wrong with Parker’s handling, which starts with a brief chase scene involving the perpetually indebted dandy Algy (Rupert Everett) that’s apparently designed to include some “action,†but only looks like bad outtakes from “From Hell.†Parker’s script breaks up the dialogue between Algy and best friend, Jack, into sections that take them from a music hall to a lounge to Algy’s London digs, but this only serves to impede the flow of

Wilde’s elegantly constructed dialogue. Algy exposes Jack’s ongoing ruse that he playacts as a fellow named “Ernest†in the city, which gives him an excuse to leave his country manor and visit Gwendolen (Frances O’Connor). Algy, meanwhile, has invented his own fictional creature, a sickly man named Bunbury, whom he “visits†that’s his excuse for getting out of the city. None of this is nearly as amusing as it should be, but things get downright glum when Algy’s aunt, Bracknell, shows up and glowers at Jack’s interest in Gwendolen. When Bracknell interviews Jack about his class pedigree and suitability for marriage, it is all about intimidation and not at all about Wilde’s view of Bracknell as hilariously unaware that she is a bag of hot air.