The Importance of being Ernest (1952)

Overview

The 1952 film adaptation of The Importance of Being Earnest, directed by Anthony Asquith, is one of the most faithful and lovingly rendered transpositions of a classic stage play to the screen. Based on Oscar Wilde’s beloved 1895 comedy of manners, the film preserves nearly all of Wilde’s original dialogue and theatrical structure, offering a richly stylized and delightfully performed version that is as witty and sharp as it is immaculately presented.

Asquith's adaptation doesn’t try to "open up" the play for the screen in any radical way. Instead, he uses the tools of cinema—set design, costume, camera movement, and close-ups—to enrich the theatricality of the original, highlighting Wilde’s verbal dexterity and the satirical brilliance of his social commentary.

Plot Summary

Set in the elegant drawing rooms and manicured gardens of Victorian England, The Importance of Being Earnest tells the story of two charming young bachelors, John "Jack" Worthing (Michael Redgrave) and Algernon Moncrieff (Michael Denison), who both pretend to be a fictitious man named “Ernest” in order to escape the tedium of their social obligations and pursue romantic interests under false pretences.

Jack is in love with Gwendolen Fairfax (Joan Greenwood), Algernon's cousin, while Algernon becomes smitten with Cecily Cardew (Dorothy Tutin), Jack’s young ward. Both women, as it turns out, are determined to marry a man named Ernest—because the name itself, to their ears, suggests nobility, strength, and trustworthiness.

The resulting tangle of mistaken identities, secret engagements, and sudden revelations is presided over by the indomitable Lady Bracknell, played in this version by the imperious Edith Evans, whose thunderous delivery of “A handbag?!” has become the definitive line reading of Wilde’s most famous bit of dialogue.

Performances

Michael Redgrave as Jack Worthing brings wit, charm, and a gentle dignity to the role. Redgrave’s delivery is polished and crisp, capturing both Jack’s exasperation and his romantic ardor. He plays the character as a man always teetering on the edge of flustered respectability—perfect for Wilde’s satire of Victorian hypocrisy.

Michael Denison as Algernon exudes playfulness and mischievous glee. Denison is particularly good at bringing out Algernon’s dandyish qualities—his appetite for cucumber sandwiches, his sly evasions, and his casual manipulation of social norms.

Joan Greenwood, with her uniquely husky voice and arched delivery, is a perfect Gwendolen: poised, imperious, and absurdly fixated on names and appearances. Her chemistry with Redgrave is engaging, full of ironic affection and verbal fencing.

Dorothy Tutin, in one of her early film roles, is delightfully sweet and wide-eyed as Cecily. Her naïve, romantic imaginings are played with charm and a twinkle of mischief, especially as she records her imaginary courtship in her diary.

Edith Evans as Lady Bracknell is, simply put, magnificent. Her portrayal is both comedic and formidable—like a steamroller in silks. Her timing, vocal modulation, and sheer presence dominate every scene she’s in. While Lady Bracknell is a figure of fun, Evans imbues her with a chilling authority that underscores Wilde’s satire of class and social rigidity.

Margaret Rutherford appears in a small but memorable role as Miss Prism, and her presence adds warmth and eccentricity, perfectly complementing the rest of the cast.

Direction and Style

Anthony Asquith, no stranger to literary adaptations (Pygmalion, The Winslow Boy), treats Wilde’s play with great reverence. Rather than attempt to modernize or radically reframe the work, he allows Wilde’s language to do most of the heavy lifting. The film’s pacing is crisp but never hurried, giving the audience time to savour each delicious line.

Visually, the film is a feast. Filmed in Technicolor, the production design is lush and precise, showcasing the opulence and artificiality of late Victorian society. The costumes (particularly the ladies' extravagant gowns and hats) are carefully researched and visually stunning. The sets—drawing rooms, gardens, and country houses—are tastefully grand, reinforcing the theatrical origins of the material while using the screen’s broader canvas to make each scene feel open and expressive.

Asquith occasionally uses the camera to enhance moments of intimacy or irony—a knowing close-up here, a slow pan across a drawing room there—but he is never intrusive. His respect for the text is evident in every shot.

Script and Language

One of the most significant achievements of this adaptation is that nearly all of Wilde’s original dialogue remains intact. The screenplay is essentially a transcription of the stage play, with minor adjustments to accommodate the visual medium. This makes the film a superb introduction to Wilde’s work for modern audiences and a treasure for aficionados of literary wit.

The brilliance of Wilde’s writing is, of course, the soul of the film. Nearly every line sparkles with irony, epigram, or social satire. Themes of identity, the triviality of convention, and the absurdity of Victorian morality are explored with devastating cleverness and enduring relevance.

Themes

Though the play is often treated as light comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest is a sharp satire of:

Social conventions: Wilde mercilessly mocks the Victorian obsession with appearances, propriety, and marriage.

Class and hypocrisy: Lady Bracknell embodies the absurd gatekeeping of upper-class respectability, enforcing rules that are arbitrary and self-serving.

The fluidity of identity: The idea that a name can define one's fate or desirability is at the centre of the play’s humour—and its subtle critique of social roles.

Language as performance: The characters in Wilde’s world use language not just to communicate but to construct realities, tell lies, flirt, and insult. This film revels in the theatricality of conversation itself.

Legacy and Reception

When released in 1952, The Importance of Being Earnest was praised for its elegance, fidelity to the source, and its superb cast. Some critics at the time lamented that it was “too theatrical” and not “cinematic” enough, but modern viewers and scholars often cite the film’s theatricality as one of its strengths.

It has since become a standard-bearer for filmed stage comedies and is widely considered the definitive screen version of Wilde’s most famous play. Edith Evans' Lady Bracknell, in particular, is often imitated and almost never equalled.

Final Verdict

The Importance of Being Earnest (1952) is a sublime adaptation of one of English literature’s most enduring comedies. With a cast of peerless actors, direction that lets the language shine, and a visual style that complements Wilde’s satirical precision, this version remains a delightful experience more than 70 years after its release.

Whether you’re a Wilde devotee, a lover of classic cinema, or simply someone in need of a good laugh served with elegance and intelligence, this film is essential viewing. It’s not just earnest—it’s essential.