Hedgerow Theatre presents Oscar Wilde's 'The Importance of Being Earnest.'

The rich satire in Earnest is specific to its time, but the play endures because of its delightful and highly structured ridiculousness. The language is so crisp and sublime that listening with your eyes closed would make a complete and pleasant experience — but to succeed as a play, Wide’s seriously silly characters must inhabit a visual world that can hold them.

Look sharp

In Hedgerow’s production, directed by Dan Hodge, we are presented with a riot of visual information in different styles, all competing for attention. Brian McCann’s set funnels center stage into a thin, high column, like a chimney, dwarfing the actors when they enter and smashing the action down to the bottom third. The result is that Wilde’s larger-than-life characters end up looking like dollhouse toys.

The unused upper two-thirds of Hedgerow’s massive back wall are doused in light by designer Justin Baker. A jewel-bright pink throbs above the action, before turning an alarming red and then deep purple at moments that lead the viewer to wonder if they’ve missed some significance in the story.

Critic William Archer called the comedy’s original production “nothing but an absolutely willful expression of an irrepressibly witty personality,” and Wilde’s personality offers more than enough. This production’s most successful performances and design choices are the ones that get out of Wilde’s way.

Earnest’s characters are funny because they are utterly sincere in their hypocrisy. For this reason, the delivery shouldn’t wink and doesn’t need presentational flourish.

Hobbled performances

The show opens with a silent lazzi in which butler Lane (Matthew Windham) prepares the room for a visit from Lady Bracknell (Susan Giddings) — the imposing aunt of the home’s owner, Algernon (Adam Altman) — and Bracknell’s daughter, Gwendolyn (Jennifer Summerfield).

This opening bit is neither specific nor informative enough to do anything but slow down the action from the outset, and Altman, although game and charming, has his work cut out for him getting the faced-paced comedy moving. He’s further hobbled by several indulgent moments with Jared Reed — who broke his leg and performs on crutches — as Jack, Algernon’s best friend and Gwendolyn’s fervent admirer.

In Act II, the couples are brought together at Jack’s country home, where Algernon travels to woo Jack’s ward, Cecily (Jessica DalCanton.) Costume designer Abigail Stenner creates a fun traveling outfit for Algernon and an uncorseted country dress for Cecily, setting her apart from more fashionable Gwendolyn. The clothes suit the characters, but the opportunity to use color to pull performers out of the set and tie the couples to each other is missed, robbing director Hodge of the chance to create the dynamic images the script begs for.

Hodge is an actor’s director who excels in telling stories with human stakes, which makes Earnest an odd fit for him. The play demands sharp stylization, but this production’s tone is soft around the edges. Some of the production’s best moments occur when Hodge chooses highly controlled physicality, such as a scene in which Cecily and Gwendolyn wait interminably for tea in the garden, believing themselves to be engaged to the same man.

DalCanton and Summerfield make a subtle and funny pair who play off of each other beautifully. Earnest represents the first play in a new Hedgerow model that will feature a core company of actors (although not designers or directors). While inconsistent choices can make productions feel unprofessional, the company is blessed with a core group of skilled and seasoned performers.

By Act III, we’ve been through two intermissions. The set has become even more careless, and in front of a vague trompe l'oeil library, the boys get their girls and no one gets their comeuppance and all is giddily tied together in Wilde’s scornful world. At Hedgerow, however, what’s mostly felt is a missed opportunity to demand more on behalf of such talented performers and such a loyal audience.