On one level it's an enjoyable gothic horror/comedic classic, with very "extra" characters swooning around and making declarations.
But considering Wilde's own life and his very public conduct thereof, it's just a tragic self-portrait of a man wracked by guilt and shame and a public who validated his self-condemnation.
Lord Henry's outrageous inversions of common values are often comedic nonsense. But sometimes they seem more authentic than the original sentiment they play off, and it's those moments when Wilde's self-flagellation is paused and his punishing art hits society broadside. Hey wait, what? He must have seemed like such a troll to the Victorians.