Sarah Rosen ’08 and Nathaniel Moore ’08 in “The Importance of Being Earnest,” performed in the Chapel basement on November 8, 10, and 11. PHOTO/Ian Morris

Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest,” performed in the Joan Harris Gelb Theater November 8-11 and directed by Deighna DeRiu, is a comedy full of strange contradictions and even stranger coincidences. Bringing out all of the play’s brilliant characters, memorable lines, and recurring jokes, Choate’s version was a blast to watch.

The plot centers on two friends, Jack and Algernon, and their lives in town and in the country—but, confusingly for everyone concerned, Jack is Ernest in town, and Algernon is Ernest in the country. In the first of three acts, which takes place in Algernon’s flat in London, Jack proposes to his love Gwendolyn under the name of Ernest.

In the second act, to further complicate the identities of the characters, Algernon comes to Jack’s country manor in the guise of his fictional brother Ernest—and proceeds to propose to Jack’s ward Cecily under that name! The play is essentially about the entanglements that result from this deception.

Cam Cuffe ’11 played Jack, and Nathaniel Moore ’08 Algernon; they each did an excellent job portraying the two central characters. As their female counterparts, Charlotte McCurdy ’08 and Sarah Rosen ’08 played Gwendolyn and Cecily, respectively, with both wonderful humor and flair.

Will Porter ’10, Nat Pendleton ’10, and Cheryce Husar ’08 made delightful appearances as various servants, and Shao Min Chew Chia ’09 appeared as the solicitor Gribsby. Miss Prism and Canon Chasuble (a hilarious pair of governess and churchman) were well portrayed by Lily Gottschalk ’09 and Adam Stasiw ’09. The most striking performance, however, was that of Jack Fallon ’08 as Lady Bracknell, the snobbish, authoritative matriarch who presents a powerful barrier to the engagements of the protagonists. Fallon played the strongest, most outrageous part in the play—a female one, at that—and did a marvelous job.

Wilde’s prime as a playwright was in the late 19th century, but this version of the play was set in the “mid-twentieth century,” and the costumes and set evoked the era quite effectively. Algernon and Jack both wore 1950s style suits and sweaters—and, when he announced the death of his nonexistent brother, Jack wore mourning clothes that seemed almost to hearken back to the Victorian Age when the play was written. The costumes of Gwendolyn and Cecily, meanwhile, sharpened the contrast between them: Gwendolyn, the urban socialite, wore modern outfits in red, white, and black, while Cecily, the sheltered country girl, wore a flowery pastel dress. Exceptionally apt and amusing was Canon Chasuble’s costume, an austere cardigan sweater with gradations of black, grey, and white under his clerical collar and brown hat.

The set changed after each act, forming three distinct settings: from Algernon’s trendy lounge, to Jack’s tranquil garden—where, despite its tranquility, many tempers flared—and finally to Jack’s stuffy library, where all the characters gathered for the play’s climax.

Across these three settings, certain scenes recur in interesting and amusing ways. Two Ernests proposing marriage ask what the lady would think if their name was something else (for example, Jack or Algernon), and two ladies respond that the name Ernest has something special and unique. Jack predicts that Cecily and Gwendolyn will become “sisters” at first sight; when they do meet Gwendolyn remarks immediately, “Something tells me we are going to be great friends.”

Though of course the confusion over the two Ernests causes some complications in the relationship of Cecily and Gwendolyn, there is far more cheeriness in the play than there is animosity. Cecily says, “I don’t like novels that end happily. They depress me so much.” Yet her own story ends happily—for her and for everyone else involved.