Frankenstein Revived: the monster lives
29 Aug 2023

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Cylla Von Tiedemann

In Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein, Dr Victor Frankenstein stitches together body parts before using electricity to jolt the results into life. The doctor winds up creating a misunderstood monster who is equally as terrifying as he has become, through the ages, sympathetic and sexually appealing. For Frankenstein Revived, Morris Panych (7 Stories, Sextet) stitches together theatrical disciplines then uses electrifying lighting and an electronic score to bring a version of Frankenstein to lurching and bizarre life. Panych winds up creating a monster of a production with some stitching problems, but which packs an emotional wallop as it careens through Mary Shelley's horror tale. The monster, both within the production and the production itself, becomes more and more sympathetic as it races along, with many homoerotic moments to spice the horror. Frankenstein Revived contains no speaking parts (unless one counts a synchronized electronic bellow) and conveys the story through mime, dance and theatrical movement. 

 
Frankenstein Revived is also the story of Mary Shelley writing the original novel and this aspect doesn't congeal until the very end of the production. Before then, the great Laura Condlln (Casey and Diana, Fifteen Dogs, Sisters, Fun Home, The Virgin Trial, An Enemy of the People, Sextet) wanders through the constant swirling action, sometimes influencing it, often pondering it, and occasionally writing in a notebook with a giant feathered quill. We know from Condlln's intensity that she is emotionally invested, and from her spectacular entrance that she is crucial to the narrative, but it is not until the very end when that connection is revealed. That heartstopping finale also drives home yet another theme, the elation and terror of creation. Of art. By creating Frankenstein Revived in an explicitly unusual style, the audience is forced to examine the form as well as the tale itself. To revel in the artifice while being constantly aware of it. To dip into camp worthy of a '70s variety show then soar with ecstatic athletic choreography and direct connection characterization. The graverobbing scene is sheer Hammer horror reimagined as Fosse meets Kudelka, the joining of the body parts garnered suppressed titters as the horror and the graceful movements clashed incongruently.

That is not to ignore that every moment of the production is an enthralling visual and aural experience. The ominous driving score by David Coulter is a character in its own right, with the cast consistently hitting their marks and dramatic moments with pinpoint precision that is heightened realism. The set elements range from looming gothic expressionism to stark representative pieces to fully functioning rooms represented by furnishings on wheels. The changes are accomplished with the help of what are dubbed the "Elements" who are, besides a scientific metaphor, furniture movers, back-up dancers, characters and, in their skin tight Danskins, eye candy of the highest sort. And at one point even birds. It is a novel way to tell a tale that is so familiar that narrative short cuts are accomplished with ease. Unfortunately that also undercuts as Frankenstein has been spoofed so many times that unintentional comedy always lurks under the surface. Comparisons can't help but be made. Devon Michael Brown, who consistently stole focus in Spamalot with his sexually charged athleticism, suffers from the Keystone Kops choreography of the mob chase scenes, but then stuns with a death scene that is to gymnastics what Tosca's dying aria is to singing.

Brown's character, Henry Cleval, also provides a subtext that parallels that of the monster and its creator. Cleval and Frankenstein are friends with implied benefits. A scarf they exchange is not only a gift and a metaphor, but also a part of their ritualistic, coded, greetings. Charlie Gallant (Richard II) plays Frankenstein as exuberantly obsessed, though it must be noted that he is egged on by Condlln in a brilliant bit of exhilarating exposition exploring the ecstasy and agony of research and learning. His horror at finding Cleval dead is excruciatingly painful to watch, and when Gallant doffs his shirt in what must be an overheated laboratory, the stage is, pun intended, electrified. And at the center is Marcus Nance (Richard II) as the monster. Following an entrance that reverse mirrors that of Shelley, Nance is constrained by choreography that reflects the creature's learning curve. That so much pathos, anger and rage is conveyed by deliberately awkward and clumsy movements is a testament to Nance's physicality. The creature is also costumed to exemplify Frankenstein Revived's theme. A hideous mask barely contains Nance's luminous eyes and the vivid vicious scars are attached to mesh that carefully fails to conceal Nance's underlying musculature. The artifice of humanity inverted.

It is impossible not to get swept up in the shivery retelling of this oft-told tale, but Frankenstein Revived also makes its thematic concerns, its reasons for being brought to life, clear. An apple bites deep into the original sin of hubris, the aforementioned scarf transfers fellowship to the inhuman. A glove is a clue but also the mindless hand of God. But most of all, Frankenstein Revived is an extravagant ode to the creation of art. Shelly/Condlln is always there, enthralled with her conjuring of Dr Victor Frankenstein, of fleshing him out, understanding and encouraging his magnificent madness. Until she realizes what she has created. How it has grown beyond her and Frankenstein, taken on an unexpected life of its own. A life that is scarred, precarious and misshapen, a horrific monster to be either accepted or rejected but ultimately embraced. The imperfections and unevenness becoming their very own form of emotional catharsis. A monster.