A (Post) Modern Prometheus

The new theatrical interpretation of Frankenstein by Nick Dear is most fascinating for the statements it doesn't make, rather than any attempts to make a statement, but Danny Boyle's excellent production is a stunning experience for the soul and the two actors deserve the wide praise they are receiving. Former colleagues on an adaptation of, quite appropriately, The Last Days of Don Juan, Nick Dear and Danny Boyle embarked on this project with a clear appreciation for Mary Shelley's novel and its fascination for a modern audience. The production is particularly novel because the two lead actors switch roles every night, creating two very different productions. Although I agree with the general opinion of reviewers that it is difficult to choose which casting is better, I will conclude this review with my own impression.

The key triumph of the script and the production as a whole, is the Creature. Victor Frankenstein is definitely only a sideshow to the theatrical experimentation of the live adult birth and childhood of his Creature. The combination of the deceptively simple, yet visceral, set, atmospheric music by Underworld and flawless choreography of the inarticulate Creature is a powerful and touching experience. For a very long first scene, no words are uttered except a few ineffectual cries from Victor when he beholds his Creature post-birth, but it is mesmerising. Both actors excel in the very physical role. The paradox of the nature of the Creature is explored through comic moments: “You've read Paradise Lost?” “I liked it.” The derision and cruelty of the 'peasants' against the Creature is effectively and evocatively portrayed in a few short scenes. The transformation into an antipathetic beast is well-crafted and horrific. The shock of the climactic scene (which I won't mention as I was disappointed in the Guardian for spoiling it for me) is an appropriate culmination of a careful downfall, although it is truly horrific. I could wax lyrical for many more words about the marvellous Creature, from the make-up to the two different incarnations from the two actors, but I will address that at the end of the review when I turn my keyboard to comparisons.

Perhaps in part due to the universal praise and positive reviews the production has received, particular mention needs to be made of the play's weaknesses. Moments of thought-provoking brilliance are interspersed with contradictions, opaque characterisation and trivial language. The minor characters lack conviction and barely require a mention. Elizabeth is disappointingly feeble and there is very little even Naomie Harris could do to save her. Her preachy conversations about fertility and God's work (which do not feature in the book at all) only serve to cement the impression of superficiality. They are also inconsistent with the rest of the play, which professes to explore the balance of power between science and nature with no reference to a creator beyond Victor himself.

Dear explains in the introductory short film (shown in the cinema) that it is appropriate for a modern age because there is no reference to God. The novel explores how men can make their own lives, their own choices and that creation doesn't necessarily dictate destiny. What perhaps Dear didn't intend, but becomes apparent, is that Shelley's Victor doesn't fit too well into his interpretation. The Victor of the play is an arrogant scientist, seeking perfection. There are one or two scenes that flippantly suggest the idea that he might feel some remorse for creating an ugly creature, but the stricken Victor, the man who berates himself for the deaths perpetrated by his Creature, the man who ultimately knows he must give up his life to destroy what he has, in his intellectual arrogance, created, the Victor who is so disgusted by his desecration of graves and appropriation of rotting body parts, that he destroys the female creature, is barely present. In his place is an inconsistent and underscripted character that does not do justice to the quality of either actor in the part. Dear may be right that Shelley made very few overt references to God, but there is a deep moral horror at the heart of the book. Victor's abiding self-loathing, his low spirits (which, when mentioned in the play only lead the audience to believe him impetuous), his increasing horror in what he has done and what he must do is not fashionable. It is alien to the post-modern man. We are more familiar with Dear's Victor: his pride in his creation (especially the female), his arrogant confidence in his own abilities, to the point that he tries to bring Elizabeth back to life. In fact, the audience is left wondering why he didn't fight for the chance to bring her back to life. Dear's Victor wouldn't hesitate to try and he wouldn't hesitate to ignore his father's horror to attempt it.

If this were an overt choice of interpretation, a deliberate introduction of Shelley's morally sensible Victor to his post-modern counterpart, it could have made a very interesting statement. But unfortunately the interpretation is rather more incidental, evidencing the influence of current views of science, while still attempting to accurately portray the action of the novel. The result is a series of inconsistent scenes, where Victor is struck by remorse, but the audience doesn't really know why (beyond familiarity with the novel). Victor despises his Creature, not because of the foul method of his creation, but because he was imperfect, ugly. Victor is the post-modern Prometheus, but he is not likeable, or even believable. Particularly in Cumberbatch's incarnation, he does not engender sympathy. Miller's is a little more palatable and his torment more apparent, the inconsistencies therefore not so stark.

I was asked after the cinema viewing whether I thought the role-switching had actually achieved the stated goal of mirroring the characters in each other. I am not certain it did. As an audience member, hearing Miller's Victor groaning in pain when Cumberbatch's Creature attacked him on the ice gave me a jolt of recognition; “That was how the Creature grunted!” But they are such very different portrayals of both characters and each casting is so engrossing, it becomes difficult to picture any alternative.

The differences are striking. The audiences laughed in different places. Cumberbatch swallowed some lines that Miller had emphasised and vice versa. Each did have their strengths. Cumberbatch was stunningly monster-like. He was awkward, his speech consistently strained and stilted. He delivered the quoted lines of Milton (O nightingale that on yon blooming spray...) in jolting, inhuman cadence. His menace was in his flailing, uncontrollable limbs and in his stature of course. His tall slim frame twists and contorts deliciously in the first scene of awkward muscle discovery. Miller, on the other hand, is gentler. His stutter is no less pronounced, but the words, the belligerent questions and awkwardly expressed frustrations are more like a child's than a monster's. His early wonder in the world is more poignant and his later transformation into a reasoning and intellectual being was convincing. Miller is also the more lithe of the two in his movements, and his scrambling about over the set is superhuman.

It is definitely only half of the experience to see only one casting, which is a very clever way to sell more tickets, but no less true for this ploy. As all of the tickets have sold out and the lines for day tickets apparently start to form around 1am, it is a redundant opinion, but I will express it regardless. Jonny Lee Miller is the better Creature. Cumberbatch is a little too much like previous interpretations. I was touched by the pathos in Miller's version, the innocence and goodness, and therefore doubly horrified by the eventual transformation.

As a general comment to finish, Frankenstein is one of a number of newer plays which have been written in 'film format': two hours in length without an interval. While I understand this change and believe it's sensible to write for an audience who is spoon-fed films in this format, Frankenstein would have benefited from at least another half hour. It promises an exploration of attitudes to science and humanity, but only has time to develop the Creature, while simplifying the peripheral paradoxes examined in Shelley's novel.