OH IT'S EVEN GAYER THAN YOU REALIZE
Oscar Wilde was about as openly queer as he could possibly have been for the time (he even went to jail for it), and the original text is full of innuendos and subtle nods and a million little IYKYK moments for those in the loop to pick up on.
In the very good and interesting short documentary, Dressing Algernon, the designers talk about queer joy and how much fun they had playing with Ncuti's expression of the masculine and the feminine. They also talk about the language of flowers, which was a huge fucking fad for the Victorians. Wilde himself was usually seen wearing a green or turquoise boutonniere - usually a carnation - to signal to other rainbow friends that they weren't alone:
(Psst - the cut of this plaid town suit is very classically Victorian, but only when the actor is moving can you tell that the lines aren't straight.)
And a green carnation is also the only non-pink element in Ncuti's absolutely fucking incredible dream sequence dress:
I also appreciate that The Auntie is the only one with a cynical, pragmatic view of relationships. (Except for act one Algernon, who sees the light pretty fucking quick.) Even in Wilde's day the "I hate my wife ha ha" humor was already tired and played out, so he went to great lengths to show all the romance as being absolutely jubilant-
-while also perfectly threading the needle on that "m/f relationship that is 0% straight" vibe:
And don't worry sapphics, there's plenty of good eats for you too!
From the Victorian Era symbolism of strawberry cakes, to Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo exclusively wearing the colors of the modern wlw flag:
Except for when she's crowned with the bi flag:
Absolutely everyone involved in this production, from the costumes to the set design to the floral arrangements, did they fucking homeworks. There's probably a whole bunch more symbolism that I didn't even pick up on.
I think the production touches on as many aspects of queer existence as possible: from the frustration of living a double life to appease your relatives, to the joy of getting fucky-wucky with gender in various beautiful ways, to the euphoria of being true to yourself and subsequently finding Your People. (You could even interpret The Auntie as aroace representation, and you could definitely call the whole thing the found family trope.)
The play ends with the formation of the most chaotic pan polycle of all time-
-and, of course, with a celebration of the vital importance of being earnest.
I think Wilde would be proud.