This TV adaptation of Oscar Wilde's novel, produced by Dan Curtis, the creator of the daytime TV soap opera "Dark Shadows," is a rip-off of the 1945 MGM version of the same book. Yet, its TV aesthetics contain none of cinematic beauty of that classic film, and what alterations it does make to the adaptation and book are either trivial or for the worse. The only elements barring this from being entirely unbearable are that there's something left of Wilde's great Victorian Gothic novel: I mean, the portraits look OK, and the acting isn't too bad. Dorian is handsome, and Harry is cynical. Although the story's artists, the painter Basil and the actress Sybil are a bore and vapid, respectively, that was always the case (except Sybil isn't an actress here). Regardless, for a movie based on Wilde's story, and one that ludicrously quotes his preface, "Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril," it hardly begins to even scratch the surface of that work.
Like the 1945 film, this one includes a niece of Basil, who will later become the second love of Dorian's life. It's the first of many telltale signs of how derivative this picture is, as there was no such character in the book. Perhaps, my biggest qualm with the 1945 version was that it reduced Sybil to a pub singer, whereas Wilde's Sybil acted in Shakespeare, but at least she was still an artistic performer. Here, she's a barmaid. Consequently, when Harry refers to her as Dorian's "Juliet," it's merely a generic reference, and all of the book's allusions to Shakespeare, especially the narrative's similarities to "Hamlet," are ignored, if not outright contradicted. Changing Sybil's brother's revenge plot to a blackmail scheme is especially contrary to this and smacks of soap-opera histrionics. Meanwhile, the fornication foil invented by the 1945 film is reused, which replaces how Wilde's Dorian falls out of love with Sybil based on her refusal to perform on stage.
Moreover, while this 1973 TV version is in some ways a bit more frank about Dorian's sins than either the 1945 film or the book, the gay subtext is actually lessened. Sure, there's a glance here or a touch there that may suggest something to someone with the knowledge that its author was gay, but nothing like in the book, or even the 1945 film, really, which still included the suggestion of Basil's inspiration for his portrait of Dorian. Nothing of such remains here. The God-like narration in the 1945 film is also replaced by that of Dorian. It's especially unfortunate because instead of the painting being the record of Dorian's conscience, as the movie states, we have to endure his actual conscience via the needlessly talkative voiceover. Also unfortunate is the introduction of gambling debts, which replace Wilde's focus of aestheticism and his collection of beautiful objects.
The 1974 Dracula TV movie by Dan Curtis, while not very good, nonetheless was original for introducing the Vlad the Impaler connection and a reincarnation romance to a screen, which Francis Ford Coppola, among others, later stole for their Dracula movies. Despite its TV look, his Dracula also effectively employed those blasted TV zooms a couple times and in a rather painterly way, including with a painting of the Count and his love. Yet, with a story that is all about a portrait and about art, that imitates the 1945 film, which complemented this by itself being a gorgeous piece of art, here, we have a TV movie that is dreadfully dull to look at. Even the canted angles and mirror shots are uninspired. A pair of point-of-view tracking shots look horrendous with the awkward TV dolly movement and videotape recording. The cheap production values result in a claustrophobic and stagy appearance. Plus, the TV zooms and a score recycled from "Dark Shadows." I burst out laughing when Dorian's servant reports, "Your coffee, sir," in one scene, only for the music to blare, "dun dun dun" as the show, apparently, went to a commercial break. I mean, what was that? As inexplicable, the opening sequence focuses our attention on Dorian's ring, including with those infernal zooms again. Seemingly, the ring, the source of his identification in the novel, partly replaces the cat statue from the 1945 film as some sort of mystical explanation (again, not in the book) for the supernatural portrait, but, then, nothing comes of it. It's as if Chekhov's gun never fired. Somebody or somebodies must've been napping when they cobbled this mess together.
Like the 1945 film, this one includes a niece of Basil, who will later become the second love of Dorian's life. It's the first of many telltale signs of how derivative this picture is, as there was no such character in the book. Perhaps, my biggest qualm with the 1945 version was that it reduced Sybil to a pub singer, whereas Wilde's Sybil acted in Shakespeare, but at least she was still an artistic performer. Here, she's a barmaid. Consequently, when Harry refers to her as Dorian's "Juliet," it's merely a generic reference, and all of the book's allusions to Shakespeare, especially the narrative's similarities to "Hamlet," are ignored, if not outright contradicted. Changing Sybil's brother's revenge plot to a blackmail scheme is especially contrary to this and smacks of soap-opera histrionics. Meanwhile, the fornication foil invented by the 1945 film is reused, which replaces how Wilde's Dorian falls out of love with Sybil based on her refusal to perform on stage.
Moreover, while this 1973 TV version is in some ways a bit more frank about Dorian's sins than either the 1945 film or the book, the gay subtext is actually lessened. Sure, there's a glance here or a touch there that may suggest something to someone with the knowledge that its author was gay, but nothing like in the book, or even the 1945 film, really, which still included the suggestion of Basil's inspiration for his portrait of Dorian. Nothing of such remains here. The God-like narration in the 1945 film is also replaced by that of Dorian. It's especially unfortunate because instead of the painting being the record of Dorian's conscience, as the movie states, we have to endure his actual conscience via the needlessly talkative voiceover. Also unfortunate is the introduction of gambling debts, which replace Wilde's focus of aestheticism and his collection of beautiful objects.
The 1974 Dracula TV movie by Dan Curtis, while not very good, nonetheless was original for introducing the Vlad the Impaler connection and a reincarnation romance to a screen, which Francis Ford Coppola, among others, later stole for their Dracula movies. Despite its TV look, his Dracula also effectively employed those blasted TV zooms a couple times and in a rather painterly way, including with a painting of the Count and his love. Yet, with a story that is all about a portrait and about art, that imitates the 1945 film, which complemented this by itself being a gorgeous piece of art, here, we have a TV movie that is dreadfully dull to look at. Even the canted angles and mirror shots are uninspired. A pair of point-of-view tracking shots look horrendous with the awkward TV dolly movement and videotape recording. The cheap production values result in a claustrophobic and stagy appearance. Plus, the TV zooms and a score recycled from "Dark Shadows." I burst out laughing when Dorian's servant reports, "Your coffee, sir," in one scene, only for the music to blare, "dun dun dun" as the show, apparently, went to a commercial break. I mean, what was that? As inexplicable, the opening sequence focuses our attention on Dorian's ring, including with those infernal zooms again. Seemingly, the ring, the source of his identification in the novel, partly replaces the cat statue from the 1945 film as some sort of mystical explanation (again, not in the book) for the supernatural portrait, but, then, nothing comes of it. It's as if Chekhov's gun never fired. Somebody or somebodies must've been napping when they cobbled this mess together.