Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.Amid all the spectacle of Max Webster’s wildly exuberant, hot pink staging of The Importance of Being Earnest, one of the most revealing moments is one of the tiniest. While Ncuti Gatwa’s Algernon is trying out his defiantly unsuitable costumes for his mischievous flit to the country, Julian Bleach, as his manservant Lane, is left holding a glass of sherry. Swiftly and surreptitiously, Lane whips a straw out of his pocket and takes a quick slurp. Desire satisfied; decorum maintained.It’s a move that drives to the heart of Oscar Wilde’s dazzling 1895 comedy, which brilliantly dissects the hypocrisy of high Victorian society — where baroque rules of propriety create a smokescreen for subversion. It is, as Lady Bracknell declares, “an age of surfaces”, allowing Wilde to smuggle in both an arch satire of snobbery and a rich queer subtext amid the buttered muffins. Both Algernon and Jack practise secret lives — it’s never taken too much imagination to decode Algernon’s habit of going “Bunburying” — and the text glitters with double meanings. To the facade of society, Wilde brings the artifice of theatre, creating a beautifully poised surface beneath which everyone gets up to all sorts.Webster dials up Wilde’s tactics to the max, bringing a modern eye to the astute depiction of performative identity. Here the characters, attired by Rae Smith in fabulous costumes that would go down a treat at the Met Gala, go through the motions of a heteronormative romantic comedy. But it’s with a huge wink. We first see them in a flamboyant cross-dressed prologue. Nobody here fits the box society has designed for them. It’s an emphatic assertion of the role of gay subculture and Wilde’s own enforced double life in giving us one of the English language’s most enduring comedies.At the centre of it all is Gatwa’s Algernon, a flirtatious agent of mischief, who heads off to woo little Cecily partly out of sheer devilment. But this is an ensemble full of deliciously eccentric treats: Hugh Skinner is very funny and wonderfully gauche as Algernon’s friend Jack, all elbows, knees and confusion; Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo’s sharp-as-tacks Gwendolen is determined to relish every and any opportunity; Richard Cant’s tremulous Reverend Chasuble and Amanda Lawrence’s quivering Miss Prism fumble hopefully among the potted palms.Generally, the production is immensely enjoyable, delivered with irrepressible, infectious glee. But Webster’s highly arch approach founders in places, pushing too hard. Some of the comedy becomes overly strenuous, losing the delicacy and incisive precision of the script, and the knowing glances at the audience feel like gilding the lily.Any doubts fade, however, whenever Sharon D Clarke takes the stage. She’s simply superb as the imperious Lady Bracknell. Bringing a Caribbean lilt to lines so famous they seem to hang in the air, she mints them afresh. The notorious “handbag” comes as a growl of sheer disbelief. She holds, too, the centre of the production: it’s clear her Lady Bracknell is an arriviste, a woman who has grappled her way into society, no matter how toxic it is, and intends to maintain her grip. A world of surfaces it may be, but she knows all too well the importance of maintaining the charade. Wilde knew that too, and it cost him dearly. This gorgeous, joyously out-there staging feels almost like payback. ★★★★☆To January 25, nationaltheatre.org.uk
