Apart from often being a tally-mark on many Personal Hipster Gratification Charts (you have the corner of an Oscar Wilde novel protruding lazily from under the flap of your secondhand messenger bag. How very intriguing you are), The Picture of Dorian Gray is rife with screwed-up characters and psychodramatic fuckery.
You possibly know the story. Hit guy wishes for eternal youth, and his portrait-self begins to age instead of him. Batshittery ensues. But Dorain Gray was an ignorant man-child who would probably do terrible things to himself with a golf club if a street corner hobo said it was a good idea. He pretty much took any advice that was shat his way. And by chance, one day he met this guy:
He's wearing a top hat. No further qualifications needed.
Anyway, this guy, Lord Henry Watton (yes, played by George Sanders, whoever that was, in the
1945 movie which it totally worth seeing, I promise) is this suave slippery shit who does nothing but drink, smoke, and advocate stupid behavior to young rubes like Dorian Gray. Dorian, it must be said, is young, rich, hot, and with no living family to be mentioned. He is played by this guy:
And in the recent pretentious fangirl-fodder remake by this guy:
So he had pretty much everything except common sense and telekinesis. Then his life became a veritable glory hole of ignorance and indulgence.
After taking Lord Henry’s advice to live as crazily as possible without caring about any consequences, Dorian dives head-first into being, generally...whoever the trashiest person in show business currently is. Maybe Lindsay Lohan. But without the lady parts and extensive police record. Two decades of parties, constant drunkening, being an asshole, and inordinate amounts of boning somehow take zero toll on his smoldering young body which manages to remain young for 20 years while his portrait shows the glorious ravages of age and sin. Naturally, there would be no story if negative complications did not sprout from all this stupidity. I shant reveal them, though I am notorious for impulsively blurting out the ends of movies and ruining them for others. You’re welcome.
Anyway, psych-wise, Dorain Gray exhibits signs of informational social influence; namely, assuming others are always right and automatically following their lead. If this was not an issue, Dorian may have actually applied some personal mediation to Lord Henry’s booze-and tail-rampage advice and decided, perhaps, that it would ultimately not end well. Instead, this glorious young boob swings from bad idea to bad idea like Tarzan through a rainforest of deceit and champagne vomit, sending a relieving and gratifying message to readers: Never trust a drunk man under a top hat.
