|
From an eerie silent monster of the early cinema, to Boris Karloff's unforgettable bolt-necked performance, to the Monster Mash, to a stop-motion
patch-work dog, and even to a sweet transvestite's creation of a man in golden shorts, the sinister scientist and his doomed experiment have adapted
to the imaginations of countless storytellers. Two centuries since Victor Frankenstein first animated his Creature, Mary Shelley's story of man's quest to
master nature - a story that came to her in a dream - continues to be reinvented, and to resonate with new audiences. The Creature has also had a
place on stage ever since 1823, and on it too has adapted to everything from a bone-chilling monster, to the star of a Broadway musical comedy. However,
it seems only appropriate to return to the roots for the story's 200th anniversary, with the Tower Theatre's production of Nick Dear's stage adaptation
of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.
The play focuses on the Creature's viewpoint, with the first act centring on his attempts to make sense of the world into which he has been abandoned by his
uncaring Creator. David Hepburn plays the character almost to physical extremes; as the new-born experiment, with childlike fear and bewilderment clearly
written on his deformed face, the Creature crawls and flails, and later, once more established on his feet, leaps and bounds across the stage.
The Creature's make-up (by Claire Henshaw) was very convincing, with scars crisscrossing his face and chest, which amazingly manage to stay on even with
Hepburn's physical performance. Jude Chalk's spare set gives ample room for the Creature's journey, during which he stumbles upon villagers and woodsmen,
all of whom - accompanied by fantastically violent drumming - proceed to assault him. This ugliness of man is beautifully contrasted by the Creature's
discovery of nature, with birds taking flight and rain gently falling via wonderful sound effects, designed by Colin Guthrie, ably supported by
Ludwig Van Beethoven whose 14th and 15th string quartets were an inspired choice for the play's recurring theme.
The Creature eventually finds a short respite with the political exile DeLacey. Peter Novis gives an excellent performance as the Yoda-esque teacher,
whose blind eyes see past the Creature's frightening appearance. His son and daughter-in-law put the Creature's good deeds down to magic, particularly
in a scene that prompts one of the play's best laughs, with Aron von Andrian and Ayla Mammadova guilelessly looking for fairies. But, alas, for his
efforts, the Creature finally gets only rejection. And for that, the DeLaceys will perish, along with the Creature's hopes of joining the human society.
While the the set appears stoic to start with, it allows for efficient scene changes, with only a few key pieces marking different locations. However, with the
sparse setting, the audience is invited to construct sceneries with the aid of the sound and light design (excellently and glowingly done by Stephen Ley).
This works especially well with the mountain scenes, where the blindingly white light and echoing voices evoke a bleak snow-covered landscape. The use of
live instruments gives certain scenes unusual depth, while the booming thunder recalls the Frankenstein image surely on everyone's mind - the audience
is however spared from any "It's alive!" clichés. Costume design by Kathleen Morrison, with assistant Sarah McCarthy, are also spot on, particularly
with the Creature, who acquires new and improved pieces of clothing throughout his journey from a barely sentient experiment to an entity made in his
Creator's image.
The second act is built on the reversing balance of the Creature and his Creator, Victor Frankenstein. After the Creature interrupts the innocent
games of the Frankenstein youth and housemaids (Lenia Korma and Rachel Berg), Victor's inevitable downfall begins when the family's trusty but
increasingly bewildered servants (Ken Thomson and Tunde Hall) carry the limp body of Victor's young brother William (Charles Barakat) back to the
shore at Lake Geneva. Daniel Draper as Victor is all arrogance and ambition, examining the Creature's innately human desires with a chilling coldness.
The Creature shows more emotional intelligence not only by offering to disappear, but also by stoking his maker's ego. Victor has no kindness to offer
even to his long-suffering fiancée Elizabeth, played with suitable feminine warmth by Lucy Acfield, whose pleas of inclusion and companionship are met with
unkind remarks regarding a woman's place. Monsieur Frankenstein (a fatherly Matthew Vickers) faces the same treatment, and feels the loss of two sons with Victor's cold departure.
Victor establishes a laboratory in Orkney for his second attempt as God: "If I could make something immaculate, something that I could - exhibit? Not
a demon but a - a goddess!". In a rare comical scene, the suspicious locals, portrayed amusingly by Richard Pedersen and Aron von Andrian, suddenly find
justification for research-motivated grave-robbing after being presented with chubby pouches of coin ("Farewell to sickness and disease, eh?"). Victor's madness is only halted by a dream meeting with his little brother, with Barakat radiating the purity and innocence that is sorely lacking in the Creator's mind. This awakens Victor to what he is about to unleash on the world, and so, in a heart-wrenching moment, the Creature endeavours in vain to save his perfect beloved (Milica Guceva, who also performs a dreamy dance number, choregraphed by Wing Yue Leung), now destroyed by the only man capable of granting the Creature's dearest wish. Victor is barely saved from the Creature's fury by the arrival of his father and the local constable (Stephen Brasher), who upon discovering the grisly laboratory vocalises everyone's thoughts: "Medical research? Holy Christ!".
Back in Switzerland, on the night of her wedding, Elizabeth's spirits fail to be lifted by her wordly wise maid's (Rachel Berg) not-so-reassuring words
"you don't know what to expect, do you? None of us do, first time. It can come as quite a shock". And shock will surely be delivered. The Creature and
Elisabeth's meeting allows the audience to momentarily believe that in each other, they could have found the companionship they both yearned after. But,
it is now far too late. Hepburn and Acfield perfectly execute the painful scene where the Creature's innate kindness turns into agonised rage, and Elizabeth
perishes as violently as his beloved did.
All in all, director Karen Sheard and assistant director by Katie Smith created a haunting, and appropriately uncomfortable production, which developed
into nothing short of a tour de force. In the end, Victor is reduced to crawling in bewilderment and hunger, with his fine clothes in tatters, while the
Creature stands up tall in his suit, holding the morsels that restore the fading life of his maker. Hepburn and Draper are excellent till the end, where the
Creature has become the Creator, and the two must now continue the perpetual chase that is the sole purpose they have left. While Dear's ending is not
entirely faithful to Shelley's, it holds the same ominous quality that the original author dreamed two centuries ago. It is certainly easy to imagine this tale as one of those nightmares that both fascinate and frighten, a dream that one is grateful to wake up from, but that lingers in the mind even in the light of day.
Photography by David Sprecher
|
