“The Picture of Dorian Gray” review: Sarah Snook stuns in slick reinvention of Oscar Wilde's cautionary tale

Rarely does a show rest so heavily on the shoulders of a sole performer than in Kip Williams' reinvention of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Luckily, Sarah Snook doesn't just rise to the occasion — she makes a convincing argument that no one else could possibly fill her shoes.

After garnering rave reviews on the West End — and winning its star her first Olivier — the one-woman show has made its way to Broadway with all the wit, winks, and flourishes promised by the buzz. In a perfectly coifed wig, with a sly smile and endless witticisms, Snook takes on 26 different roles across the show's nearly two hour runtime.

It begins calmly enough: an empty stage, seemingly composed of a single huge vertical screen. It's there that Snook first appears, a crisp visual that sees her introduce nervy artist Basil Hallward and his charismatic companion Lord Henry Wotton. As Basil finishes work on the titular painting, they are eventually joined by the subject: the bright-eyed beauty, Dorian Gray. His allure is so absolute that both Basil and Henry are enamored, yet it is they who enact a seduction of sorts.

Related: Othello review: Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal shine in an otherwise shaky production

Before long, Henry has dripped poison in Dorian's ear — warning him of his beauty's impermanence — while Basil's unchanging snapshot of his youth has evoked a bitter envy in the impressionable young man. And so Dorian makes a declaration: There is nothing he wouldn't sacrifice to retain his youth, not even his own soul. And we're off to the races.

Quiet as it begins, Dorian Gray proves itself a kinetic experience and a satisfying depiction of Oscar Wilde's slick, self-indulgent tone. Snook doesn't just portray each and every character, she also keeps the story's prose alive as the narrator — a "character" with a saucy personality of their own. The wry and self referential element that might evoke an eye roll in the hands of another is a rollicking delight thanks to the twinkle in Snook's eye, and the way she revels in each sarcastic syllable.

Notably, Snook is not alone on stage. She's joined by camera operators, crew members in black who act as shadows, dressing her, changing the scenery, and angling cameras to help her shape the world of Dorian Gray.

Related: Operation Mincemeat review: An irresistible musical farce brings British boldness and belly laughs to Broadway

As though performing the one-woman show were not enough of a challenge, Snook is also tasked with performing not just for the live audience, but for multiple cameras. As she switches between characters, cameras whirl around her and screens hover above, offering multiple angles and perspectives into the performance — and leaving Snook with nowhere to hide. But she balances it all with ease, with humor.

Snook gives a tour de force performance, juggling 26 characters differentiated by admirable physical and vocal transformations. In a clever use of the screens, she often acts against pre-recorded footage of herself — but never trips up when it comes to timing, either comedic or dramatic.

It's also an athletic feat, a ballet of sorts, as Snook jumps between roles, outfits, and scenery. The magic key to her performance is that indelible Snook-like quality. She's sly, and inviting, with an ever-twinkling glimmer in her eye. At all times, she's in on the joke — and we're in on it with her. Whether she's literally breaking the fourth wall or simply hinting at an awareness of the stage, the audience is constantly in titters over her smirking star quality.

Though Snook is the show's undeniable star, she has stiff competition: Director Kip Williams' is also a standout. The meticulous direction goes hand in hand with Snook's performance and strikes a fascinating balance. Polished as it must be — to seamlessly pull off her collaboration with her video selves — it doesn't quite feel precise, often presenting with an element of messiness that suits Dorian, as he wallows in his moral decay, frazzled by the Faustian trade he's made, by the power it affords him, by his own detachment from the rest of humanity.

Related: A Streetcar Named Desire review: Paul Mescal is far from common

The production's most memorable facet is its balance between the cinematic and the theatrical. As Dorian Gray is a cautionary tale about the pursuit of eternal youth and beauty, it's only fitting that David Bergman's video design emulates the contemporary era, filled with Instagram filters and a dazzling array of screens. The show's multimedia elements are at times dizzying, occasionally to the show's detriment. But in its best moments, they elevate the material.

It's not that Williams' take is offering a new context for Wilde's fable; instead it merely makes the connection, putting Wilde's prose in conversation with a reality that's become second nature to its audience. Watching Snook warp her face on a filter as Dorian opts to embrace his moral decline isn't just an illustration, but a magnification of the show's themes, offering a clear reflection of our present.

There is a dip in the story though, as Dorian's tale progresses. The digital device is exhausted, the runtime stretches a tad too long, and a club scene that begins as an admirable feat (making clever use of the Music Box Theatre) begins to drag, before giving way to a crucial turning point in the story. Dorian Gray becomes a cluster of confusion that stumbles hurriedly through a critical character moment. By this point, there are moments where even Wilde's delightful turn of phrase begins to grate, as the show relies on the narrator rather than its characters actions. But when the script does fail, Snook offers support.

Sign up for Entertainment Weekly's free daily newsletter to get breaking news, exclusive first looks, recaps, reviews, interviews with your favorite stars, and more.

Dorian Gray is worth seeing for the technical wonder alone, but then there's Snook: a maniacal delight.  As fans of Succession already know, she is well-adept at playing morally- and emotionally-complex beings. She nails the veneer of confidence, the prideful stride, all while offering a glimpse at something vulnerable and unsteady. The low points are largely washed away by the final stretch, which demand Snook achieve a mesmerizingly wrought emotional state. And she delivers.

Despite the show's ruminations revolving around Dorian's ego, there is no vanity in this performance where Snook sweats, sneers, and dashes across stage. The bold production is as cinematic as it is theatrical, and a perfect showcase for its shining star. Grade: B+

Read the original article on Entertainment Weekly