Dorian Gray

It has already broken all records; Matthew Bourne’s “Dorian Gray” is the biggest selling Festival dance show, ever. After his sizzling “The Car Man” was in Edinburgh last year this show has been eagerly awaited, and on sales alone is the hit of the Festival. So how does it measure up?
Can’t fault the dancing - smooth, sinuous, sensual, terrific. Moderately impressed with the adaptation of the story, although the end product owes as much to Jekyll and Hyde and the film Blow Up as it does to Oscar Wilde. It positively bristles with cultural references - here is Damien Hirst’s diamond skull used as a glitter ball; there is Francis Bacon’s Figure of Meat presaging the strung -up violence which is to follow. Lady H as played by Michela Meazza is a superb Cruella de Ville, a veritable Devil in Prada. The murder in the bath of Basil (Aaron Sillis) has just a passing hint of Marat/Sade. There’s a touch of David Beckham in Richard Winsor’s Dorian, looking in his underpants just like David’s Calvin Klein ad. The fatuous, vacuous world of advertising, media, fashion and celebrity is strikingly portrayed by the energetic, lithe, uber-cool corps de ballet. Dorian is discovered, drawn in, feted and revered, worshipped and corrupted. His soul is captured on a poster and his nature is destroyed… the evil doppelganger (Jared Hageman) takes over.
The set by Lez Brotherston has, like Dorian, two sides to it. On one side, the white space is cool studio, fashionable office or clean modern habitat of Lady H; the other side is rusted, corroded, corrupted and defiled, the place where Dorian is ultimately at home.
The music by Terry Davies is pleasingly bold, with much keyboard and percussion, but the one lasting tune is Adam Ant’s Prince Charming which pounds out after the curtain-call. Dorian Gray- don’t you ever, don’t you ever, stop being a dandy.
At the King’s Theatre until 30th August.