From Nov. 6 to Nov. 9, the Hopkins Program in Theatre Arts and Studies presented show-stopping performances of “Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde.” Written by Moisés Kaufman and directed by Sean Elias, the show offered a unique look at the downfall of Oscar Wilde’s career and an introspective view on the role of the artist in society.
Wilde was a known homosexual in a staunchly homophobic country in a more staunchly homophobic era. Set in late 19th-century Victorian England, the play portrays Wilde’s three trials, where he faced accusations of “gross indecency” for his relationships with young men. Wilde brought forth the first trial for libel against the Marquess of Queensbury, the father of Wilde’s romantic partner at the time, claiming that the Marquess wrongfully called him a “sodomite” on a public ticket (Wilde at the time was a very popular playwright and author).
After the defense presented notable evidence and testimony of his relationships with men, Wilde withdrew the case. However, the Crown formally prosecuted him for gross indecency, resulting in two more trials — Wilde was then jailed for two years and sentenced to hard labor. Through a mix of courtroom transcripts, personal letters and interviews, Kaufman’s production examines both Wilde’s persecution and society’s relationship with art and morality.
As lovers of classic literature, we (Kaylee and Myra) were ecstatic to be a part of the viewing and offer our opinions on the show.
Nov. 7 showing
I (Kaylee) attended the Nov. 7 showing. While the opening moments felt somewhat subdued as the audience settled in, the energy was quickly built as actors took command of the stage and immersed viewers in the world of Wilde’s London.
From the delivery of lines to the clever use of props and lighting, I found myself thoroughly impressed by the choreography and blocking of the play. During dramatic moments, actors would stomp their feet in unison, tap their chests to mimic heartbeats and echo back words, which added to the tension and rhythm of the dialogue. Further, the passing back and forth of silver cigarette cases that corresponded to lines referencing them, as well as the use of newspapers, were particularly clever and symbolic, reinforcing the themes of gossip and scandal.
Despite some minor hiccups in the production — a few lines were forgotten and a couple of props seemed like they were mishandled — the heart of the production was still there.
What truly stood out was the cast’s ability to maintain emotional authenticity amid such technical challenges. Each performer conveyed an understanding of Wilde’s world and the weight of the words that they spoke, which created an intimate atmosphere amid the tiny auditorium.
For me, the true showstopper was Kunal Joshi as Oscar Wilde. Humorous and exceedingly witty, Joshi delivered a performance that felt particularly true to who Wilde was. His command of timing and tone captured Wilde’s sharp humor and quiet heartbreak, brilliantly balancing arrogance with vulnerability.
My favorite part of the show was the line, “To say that a book of mine should be chucked into the fire is silly. That’s what people should do with newspapers,” which was delivered by Joshi. The line perfectly encapsulated Wilde’s defiance while also acting as a clever jab at us journalists sitting in the audience.
This production of “Gross Indecency” felt like anything but indecent. While it tackled heavy themes, it did so with elegance, intelligence and compassion. The cast honored Wilde’s legacy while also reminding the audience of the courage that it takes to live authentically.
Nov 9. showing and playwright talkback
I (Myra) attended the Nov. 9 showing, which included a talkback from Kaufman himself, the award-winning playwright who wrote the script for “Gross Indecency.” Walking in as a first-time attendee of a Hopkins Theatre Arts and Studies production, all the little details of the experience were pleasures to the senses. Whether it was drinking complementary tea, dropping in an old-fashioned token to enter or taking in the anticipation and mystique from the dreamy, destructive collage of papers and chairs and books covering the stage in the intimate Merrick Barn, the production built excitement ever so subtly.
I am no professional in rating plays or even watching them, but to say the show itself lived up to my palpable anticipation would severely undersell my delight in the experience. The play highlighted such an introspective story through vivid portrayals of testimonies, cross-examinations and scenes of heightened emotion. The actors were full of passion and energy, from sophomore Finnigan Keane’s screams haunting the room in his portrayal of the Marquess of Queensbury all the way to Nivriti Puri’s pouncing glares of disgust toward Wilde’s admission of guilt of sexual relations as counsel Edward Carson.
And of course, Joshi played the man of the hour. Playing Wilde himself, Joshi beautifully epitomized Wilde’s tragic but almost graceful descent from a borderline cocky, self-assured artist to a deteriorating, emotional product of persecution. Every time Joshi closed his eyes in agony, hand to chest, it was as if my own chest ached with a similar weight — the implication of how an artist had to censor himself and his identity to conform in society. Despite Wilde’s fights and pleas, society only learned its lesson years after his death, and Joshi’s incredible acting made every member of the audience feel that grueling implication.
As a huge fan of Wilde’s novels and plays, I loved the depiction of his works in the trial, and I was especially intrigued to learn that the trials centered around his literature as much as his direct sexual relations. I even loved the stylistic choice in costumes to depict age and innocence, evident through details like pant cuffing or color (even if they were not intentional by the design team).
The set itself was modest, but its manipulation was extraordinary. The actors and production team mostly used light and color to highlight specific people instead of changing the set, whether it was pouring behind Wilde on the “court stand” or shining directly on the prosecutor cross-examining Wilde. Light also shaped emotions around specific scenes. On the one hand, softer, washed-out lights induced sensuality between Wilde and his lover or authenticity between Wilde and Frank (the friend who urges him to leave for France, where homosexuality is legal). On the other hand, harsher, brighter lights burned the truth in your eyes, especially during large accusations and Wilde’s monologue on the harsh societal implications of his punishment, piercing the crowd with the line, “You all would be ashamed for how you treated me.” I could feel every emotion, every string of tension that the production led me through (and perhaps they transferred through my body with a tear or two...).
The attention to detail, down to the actors’ facial expressions, the specific books on the stage, the eye contact between characters on the back of the stage and the fact that no one but his lover called Wilde “Oscar” presented such a thorough portrayal of Wilde and his trials. The production was phenomenally effective in storytelling and entertainment, pushing the audience to think about the power of art in dismantling social structures and expressing individual identities. To place the cherry on top of my already rich experience, Kaufman followed the production by discussing the historical context and rationale behind certain script decisions. Kaufman explained how the play served to highlight Wilde’s voice and perspective, a departure from real circumstances.
“In the second trial [and] in the third trial, [Wilde] was not allowed to speak a great deal,” Kaufman noted. “I thought people who surrounded him knew what he felt, but people who came to the trial didn't. So I thought we had an opportunity in this play to let him say what he wasn't able to say back then.”
Kaufman further highlighted how Wilde’s philosophy on art’s transformative capabilities drove his actions in life and, more prominently, in his trials.
“He was tried for his homosexuality, but he was also tried for being a subversive artist,” Kaufman said. “He was an artist who was showing Victorian people things they didn't want to see, so he had to be silenced. ...What's exciting about Wilde is the idea that an artist has a responsibility in the society in which they live: to put forth a discourse and ideas that are daring and subversive and that propel dialogue.”
I found Kaufman’s point integral to the theme behind the play: the contemplation of the artist’s role. Wilde’s legacy exemplifies how the artist pushes beyond aesthetics and entertainment; art pushes individuals to process critically, to open their eyes, to question the world they inhabit and the society they participate in. Wilde unfortunately died from his injuries in prison, under the heavy knowledge that his society failed to listen. However, Kaufman and the brilliant production’s work allows the present, at least, to come closer to Wilde’s wishes.
