Reviews

Frankenstein: Crafting a new Creature

The tale of Frankenstein is well known, even if you haven’t read the Mary Shelley Novel (Or if you haven’t read it in many years, like myself). Taking on such a beast of a legend is no easy feat, yet Emily Burns’ retelling is refreshingly original. Many liberties were taken with the original plot; threading an entirely new story. Yet, Burns’ new tale delicately weaves in the same themes of Shelley’s original novel. 

The production itself is stunning and filled with magic, from secret entryways, spooky appearances, and quite shocking lighting design - forgive the pun. It held the entire audience captivated from the moment the lights went down. The narrative begins as Frankenstein’s Creature tells us a small piece of his story, these pieces of narration are littered throughout the play, giving the Creature a voice of his own despite the fact that we don’t see him until the end of the second act. 

Despite his initial narration, this play is not about Frankenstein’s Creature, nor is it about the man who made him, Victor Frankenstein. It is told through the eyes of Elizabeth, Victor Frankenstein’s bride to be. Burn’s liberties with the plot made for an excellent device - we didn’t know what of the things that Victor told to Elizabeth were true. Though we know of the creature, we don’t know the details of how he abandoned the creature, and whether or not his threatening presence is real, or a part of Victor’s mind. We see Victor as Elizabeth does - or rather did - in the beginning, a smart and witty man, who is a bit eccentric but loveable in his own way. With little effort, we see the love she carries for him due to their backstory, expertly portrayed by Rebecca S’menga Frank. We also feel the love Victor carries for her, though as an extension of his own self-image. This line of love and selfishness that is so overlapped within Victor is brought to light by the talent of Nick Westrate. 

What does it mean to love another, or to be loved? And when is it right to choose oneself over another? Time and time again, we see Victor choose himself and Elizabeth choose him as well. We are practically begging her to choose herself, and we are not the only ones. The creature, originally meant to mirror victor, begins to mirror Elizabeth - begging to be loved. Something which Victor will never be able to truly give either of them. Victor has spent his entire life running: running from grief, mediocrity, and eventually, his own actions. As the stakes are raised, we see Victor choose self-preservation over the people he claims to love, pushing Elizabeth further and further into isolation. An Isolation that is too well-known by the Creature he created and abandoned. When Elizabeth and the creature come face-to-face, they recognize the pain and grief the other has, in a way - they are kindred souls, trying to prioritize themselves for the first time. 

Burns’ retelling touches on many themes, without losing the narrative. It gives us a different view of Frankenstein’s Creature, one that is more nuanced and mature. The language is modernized, which separates it from it’s time, and the narration is subtitled above the stage, giving the play a Brechtian style. While the modern language wasn’t a bad choice - the occasional use of slang tore me out of the narrative. I was also hesitant over some of the tropes of motherhood being portrayed, but Burns also handles this delicately, by framing Elizabeth’s feelings as trusting her own gut for the first time, as opposed to trusting Victor. 

Overall, I loved this play. It is one of my favorites I’ve seen at STC this season. It blended humor, terror, rage, and grief into a perfectly balanced production. I look forward to seeing more work from Emily Burns in the future.

Pure Poetry: A Profoundly Affectionate, Passionate Devotion to Someone (-noun) Review

There are not many playwrights who can play with words and rhythm the way that debbie tucker green does. In her newest show, a profoundly affectionate, passionate devotion to someone (-noun), her words draw us in, envelop us, and carry us through the roller coaster of relationships.

The set was a low-ceiling room with a grouping of stools in the center. There was a raised platform around the room with green chalkboard walls. The actors were already out and drawing circles and lines on the walls in chalk. Echoing around the room was the music of a piano and a light hissing noise as if air were being released, or perhaps mirroring the hiss of the chalk dragging along the walls. The atmosphere was welcoming but heavy, as if carrying a warning of the ensuing journey of heartache. 

The language was simple but fluid, moving back and forth like waves on the beach, and like waves, the audience was pushed and pulled with the actors into their endless, cyclical struggles to maintain their relationships. Gershwyn Eustache and Lashana Lynch’s chemistry was outstanding, but Lynch clearly stole the show. She was positively electric and mesmerizing, using the intimacy of the theatre space to her advantage.

Most of the play centered around these two actors as they unravelled their complicated relationship. The other three characters, played by Shvorne Marks, Gary Beadle, and Meera Syal, carried on the cyclical themes of the play, and though necessary, seemed to be rushed and crammed in at the end. Their stories could have been more successful had they weaved into the beginning more. Despite this minor hang-up, the play was deeply moving. It is rare to find a play that can capture your heart with such simple language, but debbie tucker green has that gift.

This show was a breath of fresh air. Unlike some of the other major productions I have seen recently, the show didn’t reference current political issues such as Donald Trump or Brexit. While these are not issues to be ignored, it is important to produce shows that are as intimate and personal as this one. A profoundly affectionate, passionate devotion to someone (-noun) explored who we are and how others perceive us. Through the lens of five unspecified people, it allows us to see ourselves mirrored in them and forces us to reexamine our own lives.