Wilde in Full Bloom at Stratford’s The Importance of Being Earnest – front mezz junkies, Theater News

The Stratford Festival Review: Krista Jackson’s handsome revival finds abundant pleasure in Wilde’s wit, even when it rarely strays beyond familiar ground.

By Ross

We can’t help but breathe in the aroma of all those flowers spilling across the Avon Theatre stage before a word of Oscar Wilde’s dialogue is spoken. It feels like an invitation to pleasure, pleasure, and more pleasure, especially when a very fancifully dressed gentleman steps forward to pluck one for his lapel. After offering a flamboyant wave, he disappears into the wings only to return again into that just-revealed lavish pink-and-white salon. He was enthusiastically playing the piano, he informs us, but he does not play for accuracy. Oh no, he does it for the pure pleasure of its passion. And in that sharply conveyed opening, the spirit of Krista Jackson’s production of The Importance of Being Earnest at the Stratford Festival is captured, for the most part. The production is timelessly joyful, beautiful, playful, funny, and deeply committed to the pleasures of Wilde’s world. But it also contains the seeds of its own restraint.

It was my second batch of opening nights at the Stratford Festival, and I arrived curious to see what new perspective this beloved comedy might reveal, after having encountered two strikingly inventive productions of Earnest over the past six months. One was a National Theatre production in the West End, and the other was at the Grand Theatre in London, Ontario. Both were fascinating in their creativity and theatrical dexterity, and I was ready for another. What Jackson (StratFest’s The Diviners) and her Stratford company have created is a highly entertaining and thoroughly enjoyable production that places its faith squarely in Wilde’s text. In that fine floral framing, the result is a handsome and polished evening filled with laughter and expert performances, even if it rarely ventures beyond the familiar pleasures already embedded within the play itself.

Wilde’s comedy remains one of the great theatrical machines ever built. Two young men invent elaborate alter egos in order to escape social obligations and pursue pleasure and romance, only to become tangled in their own deceptions. Jack Worthing arrives in London hoping to propose marriage to Gwendolen Fairfax, while his friend Algernon Moncrieff finds amusement in exposing hypocrisies wherever he encounters them. The pursuit of pleasure sits at the heart of both men’s lives, although what each considers pleasurable proves very different indeed.

Joe Perry delivers a wonderfully detailed performance as Jack, our first “Earnest”. Following his powerful turn as Biff in Stratford’s current production of Death of a Salesman, Perry reveals an entirely different side here. His Jack is earnest in every sense except the legal one, a man constantly struggling to maintain dignity while the increasingly absurd circumstances around him threaten to dismantle it. Perry navigates that tension beautifully, allowing Jack’s frustration, affection, panic, and sincerity to coexist.

As Algernon, Carter Gulseth (Blue Bridge’s Ride the Cyclone) finds flavour hidden inside Wilde’s most charming troublemaker. His Algernon delights in indulgence, wit, and mischief, moving through the play with effortless confidence. Yet somehow I wasn’t fully enamoured by his charm. For all the individual strengths of Perry and Gulseth’s performances, the friendship between Jack and Algernon never entirely convinces. Despite the pinky swears, shared jokes, and familiar banter, their connection often feels more functional than genuine, as though they remain together because the play requires it rather than because they genuinely enjoy each other’s company. Since so much of the comedy grows from their relationship, that missing spark occasionally leaves the production feeling oddly restrained.

If the men occasionally struggle to establish their bond, the women have no such problem. Marissa Orjalo’s Cecily Cardew and Allison Lynch’s Gwendolen Fairfax are as delightful as a perfectly prepared tea service. Both performers possess impeccable comic timing and fully understand the intelligence beneath Wilde’s humour. Their famous confrontation over tea becomes one of the production’s highlights, with every polite insult delivered as though wrapped in decorative ribbon. Orjalo (StratFest’s Ransacking Troy) and Lynch (StratFest’s The Tempest) never reduce their characters to caricatures, allowing both women to reveal wit, confidence, and surprising emotional clarity beneath the comedy.

The evening belongs, however, to Fiona Reid’s magnificent Lady Bracknell. Reid enters with complete authority and proceeds to devour every line Wilde places before her. Her delivery is crisp, precise, and gloriously self-satisfied, finding fresh pleasure in observations that have delighted audiences for more than a century. Beneath the imposing social armour, Reid (Coal Mine’s People, Places and Things) also uncovers a sly sense of mischief that keeps the character feeling alive rather than merely iconic. Every entrance feels like an event, and her pronunciation of the word “baby” is so wickedly specific that it draws one of the evening’s biggest laughs. 

The supporting cast proves equally reliable. Lucy Peacock (StratFest’s The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?) brings warmth and comic intelligence to Miss Prism. While Ben Carlson‘s Canon Chasuble finds considerable humour in his growing affection for her. Still, the development of their love feels a tad abrupt, making the eventual embrace feel unexpectedly sudden and underdeveloped. Sean Arbuckle (StratFest’s Casey and Diana) repeatedly steals scenes as Algernon’s manservant, Lane, through impeccable timing and wonderfully dry delivery. Liam Tobin‘s Merriman, butler to Jack, proves equally memorable, finding laughs in moments that could easily have faded into the background.

Much of the production’s appeal lies in its visual world. Bretta Gerecke‘s set embraces the floral imagery suggested by Wilde’s characters and social landscape, creating a stage that feels perpetually in bloom. Flowers emerge everywhere, transforming the Avon into a garden of cultivated appearances and carefully maintained beauty. Cory Sincennes‘s costumes reinforce the immense privilege these characters inhabit, dressing them in finery that quietly reflects their obsession with status and presentation. Sarah Slean’s original music adds another layer of elegance, while Imogen Wilson‘s lighting bathes the production in a warmth that complements Wilde’s wit and floral aspirations.

Yet it is within those transitions that the production occasionally loses momentum. The scene changes are attractive and cleverly choreographed, providing manservant kisses, side winks, and plenty of moments of visual pleasure. They sometimes interrupt the rhythm of Wilde’s relentless comic engine. The production is at its strongest when the actors are simply allowed to unleash the language. Few playwrights reward verbal precision quite like Wilde, and this company possesses the skill to deliver every line with remarkable clarity.

That clarity is perhaps the production’s greatest strength. Every performer understands the architecture of Wilde’s wit, and every laugh arrives exactly where it should. What I occasionally missed was a sense of unpredictability, a feeling that the production might surprise me by pushing deeper into the absurdity, danger, or emotional undercurrents hidden beneath the comedy. Jackson’s staging remains consistently entertaining, but it approaches the play with admiration rather than reinvention.

Still, Wilde hardly requires reinvention to succeed. More than 130 years after its premiere, The Importance of Being Earnest continues to delight because its observations about romance, identity, vanity, and self-invention remain astonishingly sharp. Stratford’s production understands that truth completely. Surrounded by flowers, gossip, cucumber sandwiches, and some of the finest comic performers in the country, audiences are given every opportunity to savour the pleasures Wilde intended. I left the Avon Theatre thoroughly entertained, grateful for the chance to spend an evening among these gloriously foolish people, all desperately searching for love while pretending to be someone else.