A riot of performance, staging, music and sound, Danny Boyle's
National Theatre production of Frankenstein
deserves all the plaudits and awards it has received since its
debut at The Olivier in London over a year ago. The play holds a
special place in our hearts on a personal level. As well as a
review, this article also contains an examination and comparison of
the original stage performance and the NT Live encore recording of
the play. Please note we'll be talking some spoilers too.
Privately, we at Sherlockology often cite Frankenstein as one of
the true catalysts for our creation. On April 9 2011, nearly
two months before we started work on the social accounts and
website, two of us attended a live performance of the play at The
Olivier, where we saw Benedict Cumberbatch as Victor Frankenstein
and Jonny Lee Miller as The Creature. The play burnt itself into
our subconscious from then on, and while it was sold out for the
remainder of the theatre run, we were able to attend an encore
screening of the alternate casting at the BFI IMAX soon afterwards.
It's only been until now, with the worldwide NT Live encore
screenings in June 2012 that we've had a legitimate reason to write
on the play, even while we have long held our opinions and thoughts
on it.
Frankenstein at the National Theatre, April 9 2011.
Jonny Lee Miller inside the incubator on stage before the
performance.
Frankenstein is a story of duality. The creator and the created,
vying with each other in a battle of wits while both facing the
misunderstanding, even hatred, of others around them. These themes
are expressed clearly through the play's single greatest conceit -
the nightly reversal of the two lead actors in the roles.
Effectively learning their dialogue twice, and both giving
different portrayals of the characters in their performances, it is
little wonder that Cumberbatch and Miller have been the recipients
of numerous awards, not least the shared 2012 Olivier Award for
Best Actor. The major benefit of the rotating casting is a subtle
tonal shift in the different versions, which in turn causes a
different examination of thematic elements of the narrative.
As The Creature, Benedict Cumberbatch is a tall, gangly and
powerful presence on the stage. Initially a loping mass of limbs,
he gradually develops a semblance of grace as the play goes on, his
elegance feeding into his developing eloquence with language and
inflection, giving him a stronger sense of awareness. When the
human beings around him begin to wrong him however, he becomes a
genuine physical threat, especially when faced with his creator
Victor Frankenstein. As Victor, Jonny Lee Miller is more diminutive
against his creation, and far more bombastic. He gives the sense of
being physically overwhelmed by his far taller opponent, and that
gives the impression of a man who has quite literally created
something he cannot control. Jonny also brings over elements from
his version of The Creature quite explicitly, including awkward
standing body language and a facial tic that manifests at times of
stress. In this version, thanks to Benedict's remarkably articulate
delivery it is perhaps slightly more difficult to sympathise with
The Creature, due to the sense that there is a conscious decision
by him to feed off and thus inflict pain on those around him, while
Victor more closely skirts the edges of being a misguided victim of
his own genius.
In contrast, Miller's version of The Creature is more child-like
in manner, coming across like a sentient, beaten dog that gradually
becomes more confident. Arguably, his vulnerability engenders our
sympathy more than Cumberbatch's portrayal, but he is also far more
repellent - a drooling, spitting, stumbling, bellowing
Magwitch-like ball of growing rage that finally explodes against
his more dominating creator. In Benedict's version of Victor,
Frankenstein is guilty of vanity and extreme hubris, giving the
sense of a man so obsessed with whether he can perform this
unnatural act of creation, he never stops to think whether he
should have in the first place until it is too late. He conveys a
sense of supreme arrogance, focused purely on the goal but never
the consequences that will inevitably arise from his intentions,
which in turn lends a tint of near insanity. There are fleeting
moments which you could argue place his performance close to that
of Sherlock Holmes, but there can be no mistaking Victor goes far
darker than Sherlock ever does in his actions. When he confronts
Frankenstein's bride Elizabeth near the close, Miller lends a
genuine sense of reluctance to his final horrific actions, compared
to Cumberbatch's seemingly malicious intent for revenge. As a
result, The Creature seems far more tragic in contrast to his
overbearing master, conditioned into his behaviour by the actions
of those around him.
Thanks to these differences, we find it impossible to recommend
one version over the other, not least as we found each member of
the Team has split preferences. Both versions offer distinct
differences that, while not altering the narrative, do change the
tone of the play considerably at times. But by the close of either
version, we are left in no doubt that this is a tragedy, the
creator and his creation now locked in a never ending circle of
pursuit thanks to their horrendous actions.
What is common to both versions however is the simply
astonishing staging and production design. Making full use of The
Oliver Theatre's five storey tall rotating Drum Revolve, pushing it
to near maximum load, the rises and falls of the sets coupled with
the spectacular overhead lighting rig give the entire production a
fever-like dream quality, allowing moments of huge beauty but also
drama and threat. At times minimalist, at others hugely impactful -
and in the case of the train arrival at the start, quite literally
in your face - the set design is a crucial part of the production,
giving a sense of location and ambience that very few productions
have been able to match before or since. In addition, the
evocative, impressionistic soundtrack by Underworld is a fantastic
element, lending moments of extreme beauty and ominous, building
terror. The Creature's experience of his first sunrise is the
standout moment of the entire score, a joyful interlude before all
that is to come.
If there is any one criticism we have to lay against the play,
it's the underwriting of the other members of the cast. All try
valiantly - with Karl Johnson as the blind De Lacey making a
particularly strong impact - but the two central performances are
so dominating to the piece the other roles suffer somewhat.
It's worth noting there are some differences between seeing the
play performed live on stage and the NT Live recordings that quite
significantly alter the tone of some scenes. Firstly, and perhaps
understandably, the entire opening of the play is truncated. On
entering the theatre, the audience had fifteen minutes to assemble
and become seated, during which that odd, gong shaped skin rotated
on the central drum of the stage. All the while, at regular
intervals, a member of the company would ring the bell suspended
above the central aisle, the cord hanging down so a member of the
audience could ring it, if they wished. Fed through the sound
system of the theatre, it would emit a thunderous, jump inducing
clang. Slowly, you began to notice that that skin covered incubator
on the stage contained a human form, and it gently began to move,
until the doors to the foyer were closed and The Creature inside
burst forth and collapsed onto the stage, stark naked. The
actor would then perform everything you see afterwards, from his
encounters with industry workers and people out on the land, until
his arrival at the farm homestead, in that state of undress - save
for the brown cloak.
The effect was visceral, electrifying and almost bewildering,
the audience confronted and quietened by what they were seeing
before them. For purposes of the live broadcast, and presumably to
prevent any complaints from around the world, the two actors
performed the recorded version wearing what can only be described
as a large nappy. While perfectly understandable, the effect from
watching the recorded version after such a time is one of a
sanitised production, and it lacks a huge degree of power. There
are a couple of other instances of 'cuts' for the recording,
including a comedic moment when The Creature discovers how to
relieve himself while squatting in the grass, the female Creature
appears completely naked during the scene in Victor's laboratory,
and a fair more significant moment that sees the attack on
Frankenstein's wife abridged. In the stage version, The Creature's
rape of Elizabeth is far more prolonged, until Victor bursts in to
find them in the act. But importantly, more is made of the moment
as he collapses to the floor in inaction and watches as his new
wife imploringly reaches out her hand to him for help, transfixed
by the act he has never managed to achieve with her. It seemed to
go on forever, before The Creature noisily snapped Elizabeth's neck
with a crack that made the entire audience gasp in shock.
Regardless of these omissions, the National Theatre Live
recording of the play retains its single greatest asset - those two
astonishing central performances. As we've already said, we find it
impossible to recommend one over the other, as in the end it will
come down to a personal preference. With both, you get two spins on
the same material, a true glimpse at the possibility of
interpretation by an actor of the same character. It remains
unmissable, and will no doubt be talked about in theatrical circles
for a very long time to come - after all, we still are a year after
its original debut. If you ever get the chance to see either
recording of this remarkable play, we urge you go as an absolute
priority.