Mr. Wickham talks back.
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Mr. Wickham talks back.
Adrian Lukis has had some time to think about Jane Austen bad guys. His ‘Being Mr. Wickham' incorporates Regency history, scandal, and unexpected endings.
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Dear friends,
And now for something totally unexpected: A word from Mr. Wickham.
Imagine for a moment: What would it be like to stumble into a quiet role that unexpectedly becomes iconic? So iconic, in fact, that you then carry that persona with you - layered so thick no one can actually see you underneath it?
First, ask Colin Firth, who has been gracious about the outsized and unexpected impact of his 1995 Mr. Darcy role, immortalized in Andrew Davies’ BBC series and magnified by the satiric obsessing by Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones Diary - first as a column in the UK’s The Independent newspaper, and later in a series of novels and films in which Firth himself gamefully took on starring roles, only magnifying the impact.
But what if your acting career, your brand, and your individual persona becomes overwhelmed by an iconic character deemed a bad guy? And not just any dubious character but actually the alter ego to one of the most beloved romantic heroes of all time? What if you, in short, are still decades later best known for your portrayal of one of Austen’s best love-to-hate villains?
What if you are Adrian Lukis whom one has to assume is still being constantly recognized for his part in that same iconic 1995 BBC series of Pride and Prejudice, playing Jane Austen’s rogue Mr. George Wickham?
One thing you can do is hide. Another thing you can do is delve deep into all your Austens, try to understand what a genius novelist was doing with her heroes and her villains (and it’s never that simple, in Austen), and then take that exploration to the stage, straight to Austen readers and audiences for a one-man performance, and a conversation.
Adrian Lukis has chosen the second route.
His “Being Mr. Wickham,” which he’s co-written and stars in, in a one-man performance, has been played and taped in an empty Theatre Royal Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, three times, and is now being streamed by the Original Theatre Company - through April 30, one more week! - to online audiences willing to pony up £22.
The ticket price includes the hour-long performance, followed by a Q&A with British journalist Libby Purves.
Will audiences be drawn in? It’s a complicated question when you consider that the whole point of Wickham is a character who is adept at drawing one in - and perhaps Austen’s entire use for him is to show us how important it is to not be drawn in to that legendary charm without constancy, elegance without substance.
Can we resist? And how does Lukis and co-writer Catherine Curzon create a sympathetic Wickham, one we’re willing to sit for an hour and listen to, for all these astute deep-readers of Austen?
Pulling this off - and seeing how Lukis and Curzon manage it - is worth the admission price.
The first thing that Mr. Lukis has going for him is Austen herself. It’s hard to think of a novelist since Austen, who elevated the novel as art through her use of psychological realism, more appropriate to talk back to. Austen was all about nuance, and she advanced the novel as an art form with that nuance - nuance of character, situation. No one is 100 percent good or bad. We’re all one elopement away from scoundrel-hood, you could say.
And this leaves some wiggle room for characters like Mr. Wickham to pop back up from the pages, and have their say.
Will audiences be drawn in? It’s a complicated question when you consider that the whole point of Wickham is a character who is adept at drawing one in - and perhaps Austen’s entire use for him is to show us how important it is to not be drawn in to that legendary charm without constancy, elegance without substance.
But let’s look at what Austen says about Wickham, and for those of you who are more familiar with the screen characters than the characters on the page, there are some surprises here. Let’s face it - most of us, even the most fanatical readers, have Adrian Lukis in mind when we think of George Wickham. So what Austen actually says about Wickham can come as a bit of a shock. Basically, she has some nice things to say:
“He had all the best part of beauty,” we are told in Pride and Prejudice, “a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address … a happy readiness of conversation - a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming.”
Perfectly correct and unassuming?! Lydia Bennet’s husband?!
Apparently so, friends.
And some people, right? You give them an inch and they take a mile: Except that Mr. Wickham is given miles and miles and he’s taken it and stretched it for centuries. And now here he is inviting us for a chat about “Being Mr Wickham.”
And another thing (and both of these quotes are highlighted by Ms. Purves in her program notes, so thanks to her for the insights) - not only is he pleasant and all that, he is a person you could listen to endlessly. Check it out: Austen, a genius herself, writes of Wickham that you “feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.”
Well then, you almost want to marry this person: Anyone who can do that to a topic is worth listening to over the centuries.
And some people, right? You give them an inch and they take a mile: Here, Mr. Wickham is given miles and miles and he’s taken it and stretched it for centuries. And now here he is inviting us for a chat about “Being Mr Wickham.”
So, while it may seem that it’s self-serving for an actor to raise his villainous character from the page and rewrite it in his own more palatable image, it does seem clear that seeing this character as endlessly changeable, endlessly entertaining, and to continue that conversation on the stage is just the thing Austen would approve of.
So, having made ourselves comfortable for this little evening with Mr. George Wickham, let’s get down to it.
Lukis’s script does several things all at once and in under and hour: He teases out the historical context, throwing in references to fascinating Regency figures like Byron and courtesan memoirist Harriette Wilson; he plays with time, claiming to have lived into the Victorian era making the entire performance a flashback; and he answers some fascinating questions about How They Ended Up. This is bold!
Here are some key questions that Lukis & Co. provides some answers for:
Why is Wickham so Wickham-like?
Because: Byron.
The Romantic poet and “mad, bad, and dangerous to know” original celeb of the Regency is name-checked by Wickham early on and again at the end, as he lounges in his library on his 60th birthday, sipping brandy and answering our questions.
Should we even be listening, is always going to be a tension between Wickham and his audience. And bookending this little chat with the Bryon references helps his cause. It reminds us that there was a lot going on in the near-decade of the Regency that Austen was publishing in: the Romantic poets, the wars and revolutions, the upending and forging of old ideas for new ones regarding class, family, and society.
And Wickham’s character, more than say Darcy’s or Elizabeth’s, taps into all those changes. He’s had affairs, he’s been to war, he’s experienced the highest and lowest strata of society. And by name-checking Byron, he’s appealing to our sense of adventure, of individuality, of freedom, our Romantic spirit, much like he appealed to Elizabeth’s.
[B]y name-checking Byron, he’s appealing to our sense of adventure, of individuality, of freedom, our Romantic spirit, much like he appealed to Elizabeth’s.
The references go down well. Harder to digest, for the die-hard, might be his actual reasons. He insists that his behavior with Lydia in Brighton was natural: “In truth, I feared for her virtue.”
And a harder question is, why take Darcy’s money? For those that need a reminder, Wickham runs off with Elizabeth’s younger sister, Lydia, and then is bribed to marry her - and Mr. Darcy anonymously provides the funding because he cares for Elizabeth.
What say you to this, Wickham? “I took the money,” he confides to us, “why not? It was a winning investment.” But he means it was a winning investment not for him, Wickham, but for Darcy who won through the exchange Lizzy, “her heart and her bed.”
Interesting take, Mr. Wickham!
What was it really like growing up with Darcy?
You have to hand it to him. To distract us from the most iconic romantic hero in the history of the novel is a tall order. And to do it alone, with no bucolic scenery, grand estates, luxurious soundtracks, or an ensemble cast - to do it with just you, your brandy and your script in an empty theater - is tackling something indeed. But it appears that Adrian Lukis pulls this off - and his methods are all there in the script.
Like all good storytellers, Lukis knows that storytelling creates empathy. This is his strategy, deployed effectively.
After referencing Byron and putting us in the mind of dangerous Romantic heroes of the Regency, Wickham gives us his version of the story, which we’ve already had and it’s been refuted but nevermind, this is Mr Wickham’s library and he’ll have his say.
This includes experiences of childhood abuse at boarding school, with other Dickensian scenes deployed to establish our sympathy, and also his version of childhood at Pemberley. There’s that business about the clergy living and whether he wanted to take it or not. He seems to insist that indeed Darcy denied him the living, but at this point we’ve truly lost track. Nevertheless, Darcy, he says, “bought him off like a servant.”
Here, Adrian Lukis might be taking advantage of something that we in the 21st century might see as a weakness in Austen’s narratives: The people working domestic jobs and the working classes in the novels and also in the film adaptations are never properly drawn or humanized. And so it appears it’s up to a self-serving rogue like Wickham to do it now. (If you want a brilliant Austen adaptation that tackles the class narrative and brings the domestic workers to life brilliantly and in a way that will change your perspective forever, read Jo Baker’s Longbourn.)
Darcy’s snobbery and his pride were boldly outlined by Austen herself, so it’s hard to argue with Wickham for pointing out how annoying it was - painful, even - to grow up with it.
Darcy’s snobbery and his pride were boldly outlined by Austen herself, so it’s hard to argue with Wickham for pointing out how annoying it was - painful, even - to grow up with it.
Wickham portrays Darcy as someone who was pious, closed off, and self-righteous against his own open, winsome adventurousness. And when they got into trouble, instead of holding firm, Darcy “capitulates.”
If this seems a little unfair, the trivial childhood story involving stolen brandy is juxtaposed with stories from war, of losing his best friend, “blown apart” on the battlefield. And we remember that Wickham did after all join the regiment after growing up as a second-class citizen on the grand estate of Pemberley, where he insists early on that the household loved him better than Darcy. He was nice to be around, he says.
Darcy had the rank and property, he says, “and I had the … charm.”
Somehow, with apologies to Colin Firth, it’s not impossible to believe him.
What is it like being married to Lydia?
During this private conversation we’re having with Wickham, Lydia has gone off to bed in one of her “unreasonable moods,” he explains, which turns out to be a jealous sulk. They’ve been out dancing, as you can imagine they would be, and he’s made Lydia jealous.
Life might not be emotionally comfortable for them, but neither is it boring. “George, come to bed,” Lydia calls from off-stage in one off the final moments of the evening.
My favorite revelation from an evening with Wickham might be about the next generation. Life is marching on: The Wickhams have responsible, intelligent, even priggish children. Thomas and Hattie are studious, solemn, and moral, he says, casually and unbelieving of his luck.
Unlike the Darcys, who have “produced such a pair of wild and reckless boys.” The cousins enjoy each other, and the fathers nudge them to meet each other, as Kristin and Maggie in the First Impressions podcast point out, just as Wickham’s and Darcy’s fathers nudged the two of them into friendship.
What happened to Mr. Bennet?
One of the cleverest and more satisfying revelations is that Mr. Bennet has gone and … survived! After all the business of the entail and Longbourn, Mr Bennet remains alive and well.
Mr. Bennet’s “greatest pleasure a refusal to die,” explains Wickham, “while Mr. Collins grows fat and furious.”
While the Bingleys are “forever sucking on sugar and creams,” which sounds about right, one of the more show-stopping moments is a very brief description Wickham makes of Lizzy, a moment that puts Elizabeth Bennet center stage in our minds, our hearts, just as Austen intended. He simply refers to his gaze being met head-on by “gray, unflinching eyes,” and we know the rest.
Wickham’s philosophy somehow takes all the unsavory aspects of the character Austen created, and turns them into a version of themselves that Adrian Lukis can himself live with - but in doing so, he’s opening up a dialogue that takes our favorite characters and one of the best stories of all time, and continues the conversation.
And in the context of Wickham being Wickham, his philosophy rings true: “Lie if you have to,” he urges us, “know your escape routes … and survive.” Do what you need to, he says, to tackle “the sheer bloody hell of getting through it all.”
That’s when Lydia’s voice rings out, inviting him to come to bed, and we are brought back into his Victorian present, his 60th birthday.
He takes a last swig of his brandy and blows out a candle, then says his parting words:
“Match me if you can. …. Here’s to rascals. There’d be no story without us. Coming, my darling. Coming.”
“Match me if you can. …. Here’s to rascals. There’d be no story without us. Coming, my darling. Coming.”
It’s easy to feel that Austen would have welcomed the dialogue, the revision, the exploration. She took pains to force us to see the complications in character. Her heroes are never truly heroic, and her villains never all bad. Wickham coming back to life and defending himself seems like just the thing that Austen would have approved.
Let’s hope she’s somewhere right now, laughing at his Austen-like audacity, and raising a glass.
Friends, have you watched this performance? Let us know what you thought, and let us know all your thoughts on Wickham and how he compares to Jane Austen’s bad guys.
And finally, the anticipated Netflix Persuasion film starring Dakota Johnson, Henry Golding, and Cosmo Jarvis now has an exact drop date: July 15. The countdown began with a Netflix announcement yesterday. Are you planning to re-read this novel? Here’s a link to the conversations that took place here at the Austen Connection where we spent the bitter month of January exploring that novel, and also talked with Damianne Scott of Black Girl Loves Jane and playwright Sarah Rose Kearns about the appeal of this story for the Christian Science Monitor. We’re looking forward to more conversations in the runup to this film!
Thank you for being here and engaging in the Jane Austen community. If you are not yet a subscriber to the Austen Connection, you can sign up for free here, and get all the conversations right to your inbox. Join us!
And have a wonderful spring weekend full of warmth, joy, and Jane Austen.
Yours truly,
Plain Jane
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Cool Links and Community
This podcast episode from the wonderful First Impressions podcast with Kristin and Maggie - if you are at all interested (or skeptical of) the Adrian Lukis one-man performance, this conversation is a must-listen.
Here’s where you can get tickets to watch ‘Being Mr. Wickham’
Harriette Wilson is considered to be a notorious courtesan of the Regency era who wrote her memoirs.
There’s another, more important 19th century Harriet Wilson, one of North America’s first Black novelists. Learn more at the Harriet Wilson Project.
Jo Baker’s Longbourn is a gorgeous, groundbreaking Pride and Prejudice retelling that centers the characters working as domestic servants in the story, relegating the Bennets to the background
Jennyvi Dizon and JASNA-Southwest Region are hosting event April 30, featuring a discussion with Dizon about “Designing the Regency.” Dizon’s Jane Austen Collection designs will be showcased at New York Fashion Week this autumn.
Thank you for being part of the Austen Connection community!