King’s Theatre, Edinburgh – until 26 October 2019
Reviewed by James Knight
3***
Frankenstein is a difficult beast – writer Rona Munro has admitted as much. It’s been performed through the ages, being re-invented and adapted countless times. Indeed, at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, I saw two very different versions: one a live silent film with shadow puppets and actors, another a beatbox concept album.
Another difficulty is how is the story relevant to todays audiences? This is perhaps an easier obstacle – the story of a brilliant scientist creating life from death and his creation ruining and destroying him is one that has resonated for decades, in moral essays, debates about genetic manipulation, artificial intelligence, and many other issues.
In this production, Rona Munro has placed a major emphasis on Mary Shelley (Eilidh Loan). Some productions would draw attention to the reason she wrote the book (a competition between writers to create the most frightening horror story), or the tragic losses she suffered throughout her life. Instead, Munro focuses on Mary’s choices as a writer. The show opens with Mary editing her writing – unhappy with that although she may have stumbled across some horror, the purpose behind it is not clear. Throughout the play, Mary questions her characters, delights in wicked glee at an upcoming death she is about to spring upon her readers and the audience (“It’s been a long time since somebody died…”) and unlike her title character, encourages the creature to wreak havoc.
At the opening of the second act it is unclear if Mary is writing the book, or if it is writing her, a concept that, if expanded upon would be interesting for audiences to unpack. But it is here that the production suffers – there’s a lack of clarity in what it wants to be. Is it the story of Frankenstein that everybody knows? Is it the story of the creative process? Is it a development of how the creation affects the creator?
Add to this multiple knowing asides that reduce the fear factor, the two hundred year old story is rendered rather toothless. Mary’s rage at powerful men who neglect the consequences of their actions couldn’t be more timely, yet there is little space for this as we are whisked along a pace with very little time to let scenes settle and relationships to properly develop. We’re expected to know the story back to front already, and this means that characters are thin.
It’s a shame, because the icy set with lightning trees by Becky Minto, and chilling sound design and music by Simon Slater sets up a tension-filled production, but with such a lack of focus, this particular creation is left stumbling around.