The Argus: Brighton Festival Fringe launches today

An airing of John Osborne’s script is timely - we are driven to preserve our youth these days, and Dorian Gray’s quest is famous. Unfortunately here, it’s dragged out of the attic in a heavy, dusty old trunk and just not given the contemporary treatment it deserves.

None of the characters really lives and breathes their role – ten minutes in on first night both artist Basil and Lord Henry had forgotten their lines.

There is a distinct lack of colour on stage. Even Basil wears black trousers and a white shirt, his appearance more akin to a truanting schoolboy than an artist. Dramatic tension is missing. There is a lot of very sombre and deliberate walking across the stage; Dorian might be about to cosh someone, so significantly does he carry a lamp throughout a whole scene. Basil clutches his paintbrush and rag like his life depends on it.

The set shows potential at first, with a life-sized empty picture frame as focal point but the actors are forever stepping over its lower rung - awkward for them and a constant worry for those watching in case anyone trips. A set of stools as stairs is unconvincing as well as unwieldy.

Michael Williams makes a noteworthy effort in the role of Dorian but, like everyone else, he evidently lacks the creative direction necessary to nurture his talent. Without it, the script’s brilliance is lost to us, as well as these amateur actors who, deserving of more, are applauded here for their enthusiasm.