The Picture of Dorian Gray, a Gothic and philosophical novel written by Oscar Wilde, was first published in 1890. The first motion picture, taking the same title, came out in 1945. Relative to The Secret of Dorian Gray (1970), the initial adaptation of the book can seem quite restrained, or Victorian, even though the novel had been controversial in its day. The 1970 film is awash in the sexual revolution, and is thus also affected by its times. The next film adaptation, Dorian Gray (2009), goes back to a classy nineteenth-century Dorian. The emphasis is on sexual immorality, albeit different than in the sexual revolution in the next century. The film largely departs from the plethora of religious symbolism and language in the 1945 film, though unlike in the 1970 film, a spiritual realm is not presumed to be an antiquated notion. Instead, the 2009 film substitutes supernaturalism for religion, especially in the climax.
Regarding the salient element of religion in The Picture
of Dorian Gray (1945), the film goes back and forth between ancient
paganism and Christianity. The tension between the two goes through the film.
Basel remarks refer to the gods, which immediately disassociates the story
world from the monotheistic religions. The gods, he says, give us good looks
even though we suffer from them. Henry disagrees, quipping, “There is only one
thing in the world worth having and that is youth.” Not yet realizing the power
through the painting on aging, Basil vaguely intuits a transcendent aspect of
the painting in remarking, “There’s something I can’t quite
understand—something mystic about it.” As he is working on a sketch of the cat
already pictured in the painting, he adds, “It seems as if a power outside of
myself was guiding my hand. It’s as if the painting has a life of its own,
independent of me.” Later in the film, Basil tells Dorian, “Perhaps you’ve seen
the same mysterious quality in it. Have you noticed something curious in the
painting? Something that at first did not strike you but that subsequently
revealed itself suddenly?” Dorian replies, “I saw something curious about the
painting. You’re right; there can be something fatal about a portrait.”
Because the transcendent lies beyond the limits of human
cognition, perception, and feeling according to pseudo-Dionysius (St. Denis)
and others in the Middle Ages, a portal itself can be expected to have a vague
mysterious quality. In his text, The Idea
of the Holy, Rudolf Otto ascribes mysterium
to the holy. In antiquity, the term simply meant “unknown.” It is fitting
that a way to transcendence would also have the air of the unknown.
Unless anyone misses the connection between the mystical quality
and the cat in the film, Dorian is shown posing next to a statue of the cat.
Between them, Dorian and Henry make the connection explicit. For the first
time, Dorian is conscious of his youth, and that he would someday lose it “If
it were that I would stay young and the picture would grow old,” he wishes.
Henry cautions him, “You wouldn’t express your wish in the presence of that
cat; it is one of the 73 great gods of Egypt and perfectly capable of granting
your wish.” A relationship exists between Dorian and the cat through the medium
of the painting. This is the transcendent axis that runs through the film. The
statue of the cat is also involved, as Sybil remarks while she is at Dorian’s
house, “It’s that cat; I thought I saw its eyes move.” Dorian replies, “Perhaps
you did. . . . It is one of the 73 great gods of Egypt.” He then reads a
passage to her: “Hideous cat . . . you make me what I would not be. You make my
creed a barren sham. You wake foul dreams of sensual life.” This gives us an
indication of how the transcendent relationship would affect Dorian. The
reference to the creed suggests Christianity, which Dorian will abandon in
favor of sensual pleasures. “What a strange poem,” Sybil remarks, “Who
wrote it?” Dorian answers, “Oscar Wilde.” Wilde himself cast aside Victorian
moral norms and laws to pursue sexual pleasure wherever it would lead him. In
contrast to Wilde’s pleasures, Dorian’s, such as sex and drugs, are
deemphasized in this film, whereas his harm to other people, such as breaking
Sybil’s heart and killing Basel, are highlighted especially in how they change
the painting.
The pleasure obtained from harm is arguably worse morally than that which experienced sensuously, especially in ancient paganism wherein morality is not as tied to religion as in the Abrahamic faiths, which risk obfuscating morality and theology. Yet Christianity is again implied when Dorian states his wish: “More than a painting, it is part of myself. . . . If only the picture would change and I would stay the same. For that I would give everything. . . . I would give my soul for that.” To lose one’s soul is typically related to the devil, as in to the case of Faust, who makes a pact with the devil to regain youth. Dorian may be an incarnation of the Foust character, though in this film at least without the devil character. Henry brings us back to the basis in ancient Egyptian polytheism, saying of the gods’ perspective of humans: “They worship us and keep bothering us to do something for them.” Interestingly, Henry’s version of pleasure is sensual nonetheless. “Pleasure is nature’s sign of approval,” he states. “When we are good, we are not always happy.” Dorian is admittedly affected by Henry’s philosophy, though notice sensuous pleasure follows from hurting Sybil. After she flunks the test that Dorian had gotten from Henry (i.e., she stays at Dorian’s house), Dorian tells her, “Now you are nothing to me. Henceforth I shall live for pleasure. I’ve been living a life of illusion.” This illusion is that happiness can come from being faithful even though it involves resisting sexual temptations. The picture changes in that “a touch of cruelty” can be seen in the mouth. The cruelty refers back to hurting Sybil rather than living for sensual pleasure. In other words, the painting shows Dorian’s bad conscience from harming other people. When Henry tells Dorian of Sybil’s suicide, Henry observes, “She killed herself for love.” Dorian reacts with, That’s not my fault! He has an air of indifference toward his bad conscience. Sensual pleasure is merely a byproduct; Dorian says, “I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions; I want to use them, enjoy them.” Again distancing the film from Abrahamic morality, Basil gives Dorian a book on the Buddha, which Dorian predictably dismisses—but he is not now turning against his creed, at least explicitly, and yet he is. He has a moralistic faith (i.e., Christianity) and yet the transcendent basis in this film is an ancient Egyptian god that presumably wants Dorian to keep the pact rather than behave morally.
The narrator then invokes Christianity implicitly as Dorian hides the painting. “He would have eternal youth while the portrait bore the burden of his shame. He was caught in an evil destiny.” That is, destroying the painting would break this destiny off by his death; he had said it is “a part of me.” As if recalling the worst sin according to Augustine, the narrator says, “Prideful individualism is a work of evil.” Here, selfishness is evil. Admittedly, both harm to others and unrestrained sensuous pleasure can be byproducts of the evil vice of selfishness. When Dorian shows Basil the painting, which is now in color, the narrator says, “It was as if some moral leprosy were eating the painting away.” Immorality is thus evil, presumably even when no one is getting hurt.
Even Basil’s view of the painting has changed from mysterious to monstrous, from a sense of a transcendent element to something supernatural. The starkness of the latter typically dwarfs any subtle mysteriousness that is also a quality of transcendence itself. In contrast, monstrous points to something in our realm. Looking at the painting, Basil declares, “This is monstrous, beyond nature, beyond reason.” Basil is conflating supernatural with the transcendent—a category mistake perhaps arising out of Deism—namely, that God not only set up nature’s laws but also intervenes outside of them. Is such intervention supernatural in that it is an alternative to the natural sciences? If so, the domains of science and religion blend so much that category mistakes can be made—one example being that Zeus is present when a storm has lightening.
The use of the supernatural (or paranormal) as a litmus test or even as proof that a spiritual realm really exists involves a category mistake; rather than being the standard, the basis ought to be tossed out; the transcendent is wholly other and is thus not within our cognitive or perceptual grasp. Even trying to grasp revelation is like looking through a smoke-stained dark window, according to Augustine. Hence belief rather than knowledge is as far as we can go in trying to cognitively penetrate anything transcendent. Hence we yearn for transcendence, as in striving for communion with God. Whereas the transcending experience of yearning can be known in as much as it is in our realm, attributes of the divine object, which lies beyond our reach (i.e., is transcendent) can only be believed through faith. Even our collective imagination, which has come to inexorably fit the validity of religion through the gates of supernaturalism, draws on stuff in our realm rather than anything beyond the limits of cognition, perception, and sensibility.
Nevertheless, Dorian comes to view the monstrous painting in Christian terms by invoking Oscar Wilde’s poem. “The painting has destroyed me,” Dorian states, “Each of us has heaven and hell inside.” Basil does not miss a beat, replying, “The prayer of your pride was answered; perhaps a prayer of repentance would be too.” Basil’s book on the Buddha is nowhere to be seen! The story has gone far from the original amoral paganism of an ancient Egyptian cat-god to the morally and soteriologically redemptive god-man of Christianity.
The story ends with the theme of redemption. When Dorian destroys the painting, he dies. Is he redeemed or did he pay the price for having sold his soul by having a short life—albeit a short, constantly youthful life? A Christian preacher says, “What shall it profit a man if he should gain the whole world but lose his soul? . . . The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought and sold. It can be poisoned or made perfect. . . . The wretched creature whose soul is filled with vile thoughts and foul deeds must dwell in darkness. Even though he walks under the noonday sun, he carries his own vile dung around with him.” The soul, it turns out, is capable of transcendence, and can therefore be heaven or hell. A bad conscience has its own weight, which eventually catches up with and drags down Dorian. Vile thoughts and foul deeds can pertain both to engaging in sensual pleasures and making a deal with the devil. The derived pleasure can be outweighed by a bad conscience. Dorian tells Henry, “I would do anything if I could change and get older like other people.” Once again, the narrator supplies a Christian interpretation: “A life of humility and denial, he would restore the painting, but it would tire of him.” Dorian asks God for forgiveness, the portrait breaks, and he looks old. The ending shot is of Wilde’s poem, propped up in front of the statue of the cat. The poem in part: “I sent my soul through the Invisible, my soul returned to me. And answered: I myself am Heaven and Hell.” So the film ends with this curious mixing of ancient Egyptian religion and moralistic, Victorian, Christianity. Perhaps the tight morality of Victorian times—Wilde having published the story first in 1890—had an influence on the story itself and even on the 1945 film version. on the 1945 film version.
Similarly, the sexual revelation going on in 1970, when The
Secret of Dorian Gray came out, can be seen as a major influence in
the film, which is even set in its own contemporary day. In the opening scene,
for example, Dorian is with friends in a gay bar watching a drag queen. Dorian
and Sybil have sex on the day they meet. Posing for the painting, Dorian has his
shirt off, has a loose tie on, and wears rugged jeans. He looks like a male
prostitute. What the camera shows is much more revealing than in the 1945 film.
After a posing session, Dorian is shown in an outdoor shower; that he is
wearing a swimming suit seems foisted on the film by censors. Basil refers to
Dorian as being “entirely sensuous,” to which Henry adds, “What is vice
anyway—pleasure in chains.” His sister attributes this view to Oscar Wilde.
Regarding sex and marriage, Henry recommends, “Ideally, one should enjoy
everything and possess nothing.” Yet religion, and specifically Christianity,
is not brought in, given the secularity that was gaining ground even in 1970.
To be sure, Dorian invokes his soul when he says, “Why should I get old while
this [painting] stays young? Why can’t it be the other way around?” . . . “I
would give anything to stay like that; I would give my soul to stay like that.”
Basil’s reply is more psychological than religious. “You see, I’m right; he is
in love with himself.” Narcissism! Even in Dorian’s reply that the painting is
“part of me now. I don’t know which part,” the allusion to a mystic element is
missing. When Dorian takes a sample of the picture’s paint to a chemist, it is
clear that belief in a spiritual world is something of the past. The chemist
asks Dorian, “You mean, can the seen world be changed by what used to be called
the spiritual world?” I submit that regarding the notion of the spiritual world
as being in the past reflects the secular culture that was coming of age when
the film was being made. The only allusion to religion is made by Dorian
when an older Henry asks someone, “How does Dorian look so young?” Dorian
replies, “You should know that Henry, I sold my soul to the devil; you
introduced me to him.” Henry’s philosophy was one of acting on temptations for
sensual pleasure.
Whereas allusions to religion are rare, commercialism can clearly be seen in the film, which was made after at least two decades of the commercial hegemony of the U.S. in the world after World War II. For instance, Henry buys the painting for Dorian, observing as if it were a fact, “Painters must be paid.” In the 1945 film, Basil gives Dorian the painting out of friendship. Commercialization, it seems, had made inroads since the end of World War I. Although the dominant theological take on profit-seeking and wealth had long since shifted from anti-wealth to pro-wealth, thus reducing Christianity’s force as a constraint on greed, secularization is a fertile bed for a commercial society.[1]
Both commercialism and secularity privilege the exterior to a
person’s interior. In viewing a spiritual world as an antiquated notion, the
1970 film cuts off an interior realm (e.g., the kingdom of God is within).
Similarly, in a commercial context, the exchange of money means that how people
are inside doesn’t matter. Dorian tells Sybil, “Inside? Who wants to know what
filth is inside? Beauty is what we see—nothing else.” Henry will tell a friend,
“Today beauty is more important than genius.” What is exterior is more
important than what is interior. Also, Dorian gets money for having a picture
of his face in a magazine.
It is no accident that the exterior-oriented Dorian socializes
with other people who are live on an exterior level. In the film, such people
are not only the sexually promiscuous, but also the wealthy of the commercial caste. Dorian tells
Sybil that he is going to a party with rich people who may be filthy inside but
beautiful on the outside. Wealth, it seems, is a shield. In a secular world,
appearance is what matters. Business is discussed at the party. Perhaps
commercialization, or an encroaching business culture over society, can act as
such a shield. Sybil values what is on the inside of a person, whereas Dorian
does not; he intends to please himself by turning outward. This is not to say
that he is a business type. As if to distinguish himself from all the business
talk, he says, “We rich people don’t care about money.” So it is not greed that
Dorian suffers from; his vice is lust.
It is as if the film were soft-porn. The character resembles a
porn star even as represented in Basil’s painting. In this way, the sexuality
in this film differs from how sexuality is portrayed in the 2009 version,
which, while it includes orgies, is less driven by sex. Regarding Dorian having
sex with married women in the 1970 film, Basil says, “Dorian, there must be
some limit; you corrupt and destroy anyone who comes in contact with you.”
Unlike in the 1945 film, the harm is a byproduct of Dorian’s unrestrained lust.
Even Henry touches Dorian while he is showering. In the next scene, Dorian is
checking out gay men. Later in the film, Henry watches Dorian swim naked. Henry’s
facial expression is creepy; this is also a way in which this film differs from
the next one. Meanwhile, the painting is being affected mostly in the face and
fingers—not nearly as dramatically as in the 1945 version in which the painting
is in color when seen from the point of view of a character.
Sex, with drugs added in, is also salient in Dorian
Gray (2009), though not as much as in the 1970 version. The orgies and
visit to a whore house do not give Dorian the look of a porn star. Rather, he is portrayed as enjoying life as a
wealth young man. Although the story is set in the nineteenth century, the change
reflects both the surge in high-end party drugs and the AIDS epidemic in the
1980s and 1990s, both of which had had an effect on the world by the time the
film was made. In other words, the sexual revolution had long since ended.
Also, more allusions to Christianity suggest that the West was no
longer so hostile to religion by 2009, though the religious references are much
fewer than in the 1945 film. At one point, Dorian tells Henry, “Perhaps I
should nail myself to the devil’s altar.” At the end of the film, Dorian admits
to Henry, “I have lived the life you preached.” Yet the very word preached seems
an over-reach, as Henry’s philosophy was one of unlimited sensual pleasure,
without any transcendent basis. Although the dichotomy of sensual pleasure and
having a heart can be taken as having a religious aspect (e.g., God is love),
Henry, like the philosopher Nietzsche, who in the last half of the nineteenth
century, is oriented to eschewing modern morality.
Henry encourages Dorian to smoke, for instance. Nothing
irreligious is inherent in smoking. Regarding the castigation of morality,
Henry tells Dorian, “Conscience is just a polite term for coward,” and the
“only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.” In his writings,
Nietzsche advises overcoming instinctual
urges by mastering them. Henry does not mean a religious temptation; in
fact, he takes Dorian to be with several prostitutes at once. Unlimited sexual
pleasure, rather than harm, is the main antagonist. Sybil’s suicide causes only
a cut on a hand in the painting (and a small worm coming out of one eye).
Dorian then says, “A toast to intoxication.” Then he has sex with a woman at a
party, followed by sex with her mother with the daughter is hiding under the
bed. “There are no limits,” Henry says. Then Dorian is with many women. He
wants sex with men too. Reckoning all this as evil, Basil tells Dorian, “There
is good in your heart; I’ve seen it. You’re not this devil.” Is sexual
promiscuity really evil? Immoral? Basil would have an easier argument were he
able to point to Dorian stabbing him several times, and yet even such a
horrific act translates only to a subtle change in the painting—the mouth
having just a few teeth opens a bit! After Dorian kills Basil, we see Dorian at
an orgy. Even though murder is worse than attending an orgy, the emphasis of
the film is on Dorian’s sexual activity. For instance, after that orgy, we see
Dorian at another, this time with violence involved.
Many years later, Henry’s adult daughter, Victoria, speaks with
what may be considered religious undertones. Dorian tells her, “Love is an
illusion,” to which she later says, “They say you devote yourself to pleasure.”
But I know “you do have a heart.” Pleasure is dichotomous with love. Reflecting
the interior/exterior dichotomy that is so strong in the 1970 film, Dorian
replies, “Perhaps below the surface.” Pleasure, however, is felt inside, just
as love is, whereas sexual activity is external. Also, no reference is made to
God being love; rather the love is of the romantic type, which can be swayed by
lust.
Not even the climax of the film can be taken as distinctly religious
unless the supernatural is assumed to be indicative of something religious.
Both when Dorian tries to kill Henry and when Dorian stabs the painting, the
latter moves and growls. When the painting is being stabbed, the head leaps
forward at Dorian, who dies in the fire that Henry started. Although visibly
apocalyptic, the climax contains no religious language and no hint of the
devil. Rather, the painting itself is portrayed as a supernaturally “living”
entity distinct from Dorian. In other words, the 2009 film is a horror rather
than a religious film. Rather than a pact with the devil, pleasure without
constraints (including conscience) is the problem.
