Frankenstein at the National - the first two previews
Apologies to my regular viewers for repetition, but here lies my slightly revised review of Frankenstein, after seeing it for the second time last night.
Rows C and D stalls are wonderfully close to the stage, and the left of the centre bank of seats is a particularly good place to happen to be. You can’t miss a thing, and the very first thing you don’t miss is the Creature ‘hatching’ from his pod (like two huge drum-skins, lit so you see his silhouette, which is onstage when you enter the auditorium), part falling, part crawling onto the stage. An unmistakably Benedict-shaped Creature, beneath the extensive make-up - and not beneath a single stitch of clothing. There were stitches though, along huge ridged scars in crude black thread on his shoulder, his stomach and his scalp, which is scarcely tufted with hair. His left ear is almost missing; his lips paled to the shade of his skin, distinguishing features reduced to cheekbones, eyes and profile. The picture of Jonny Lee Miller that was released a few days ago and which is in the programme is definitely not of full Creature make-up.
The Creature learns to stand and to walk with an uneasy gait. I’d assumed it was choreographed, but the process was noticeably different on Saturday and Monday, so it looks as though it’s improvised nightly (although Benedict’s injuries may have played a part in some of the changes). When thrown out in only a cloak by Victor (in a fleeting appearance not to be repeated for at least half an hour), he discovers what to eat, to warm himself by the sun, to wash in the rain, and, crucially, that people do not look kindly upon his form and inarticulate attempts at speech.
It is not until he meets the blind De Lacey (the excellent Karl Johnson) that he learns far more. Benedict’s vocal work is quite extraordinary, as the Creature gradually acquires language. He holds his face as though partly paralysed throughout (which must be exhausting) - if you want the Harrovian vowels, I fear you must see him as Victor. This adaptation has the old man as his conscious teacher, not only in speech and reading, but morality. He believes humans are innately good, and this lost, nameless thing, like the solitary moon, is an innocent.
If you know the story, it’s when De Lacey’s seeing son (and in this case, daughter-in-law - Agatha is not his sister in this version) finds the Creature with his father, everything goes horribly awry. He is beaten out of the house and takes revenge (how the great men of Rome in Plutarch’s Lives might have) by setting it alight come night-time, with the cottagers inside. Thence he travels to Geneva, to meet with his maker, to which end and in frustration, he kills William, Frankenstein’s little brother, planting pages of the journal Victor left in the cloak upon him.
The reunion is fascinating. This Victor is a far more assured character than that of the original novel (I’ve recently read the 1818 version, but I know it was heavily revised by Mary Shelley in the following years, but I can’t remember to what extent), proud of his achievement in making a man with balance, strength and grace, then, even more amazingly, speech and understanding. He does not seem to realise immediately William’s death was at his Creature’s hands - he’s far less smug when he does. He tries to destroy what he has created - the being that meant no more to him than an equation - but he is not match for the ‘monster’. A pact is then made that Victor will construct a female, a companion with whom the Creature will travel to South America and live out his days in the wilderness. Making her is a prospect Victor relishes rather than reviles.
He believes he can create a goddess, make none of the mistakes he did with his first Creature, and he leaves his grieving family, including his cousin and fiancée Elizabeth (Naomie Harris on delightful form), despite all her engaging pleas and devotion to him, for the Orkneys.
He does make her, and she is beautiful. He is on the cusp of fully animating her, but, with the fear they might reproduce realised in a vision of William and to inflict the pain of loss on the Creature, he tears her apart instead of making her complete. Utterly bereft, the Creature leaves, to return when he can do most harm.
Frankenstein returns to Geneva and weds Elizabeth, but the Creature lies in wait beneath the marriage bed. When Victor leaves to check everything is secure, he appears, but Elizabeth is not afraid. She shows kindness, looks on him as Victor’s child, and she desperately wants children of their own. But it is too late. It is the Creature who claims Victor’s bride in front of his eyes before snapping her neck.
And so the chase goes on. The Creature runs farther and farther north, while Victor follows, constantly weakening but spurred on by grief and hate (the thing which the Creature taught him to do). The last scene is incredibly poignant, when the Creature thinks he’s pushed Victor to his limit and cradles him, pouring wine into his mouth and begging him not to die, as he will not know how to continue without his master and does not understand death, does not even know if he can die. The end is not the end for either, however, as they continue ever onward, their battle resumed while both are conscious, to an unknown goal.
The staging was spare but effective, and they’ve made the most of the Olivier’s revolving floor and trapdoor system (though on Monday, it all went a bit wrong after the Creature and Victor’s first meeting, causing some delay). It’s both a period piece and extremely modern, capsulated beautifully in the steampunk train of sorts which almost runs the Creature down in his flight from Ingolstadt.
I look forward to seeing the roles reversed, but seeing Benedict play the Creature is not something of which I could ever see myself growing tired. He does phenomenal work with a fascinating, physically and emotional draining part. I want to know what he’ll do with Victor, though, as he is portrayed in a far more interesting light here than the novel. Jonny was competent, but Benedict is a genius at genii - and, on an infinitely shallow note, he’ll look utterly gorgeous in the Regency frockcoats and breeches.
Rows C and D stalls are wonderfully close to the stage, and the left of the centre bank of seats is a particularly good place to happen to be. You can’t miss a thing, and the very first thing you don’t miss is the Creature ‘hatching’ from his pod (like two huge drum-skins, lit so you see his silhouette, which is onstage when you enter the auditorium), part falling, part crawling onto the stage. An unmistakably Benedict-shaped Creature, beneath the extensive make-up - and not beneath a single stitch of clothing. There were stitches though, along huge ridged scars in crude black thread on his shoulder, his stomach and his scalp, which is scarcely tufted with hair. His left ear is almost missing; his lips paled to the shade of his skin, distinguishing features reduced to cheekbones, eyes and profile. The picture of Jonny Lee Miller that was released a few days ago and which is in the programme is definitely not of full Creature make-up.
The Creature learns to stand and to walk with an uneasy gait. I’d assumed it was choreographed, but the process was noticeably different on Saturday and Monday, so it looks as though it’s improvised nightly (although Benedict’s injuries may have played a part in some of the changes). When thrown out in only a cloak by Victor (in a fleeting appearance not to be repeated for at least half an hour), he discovers what to eat, to warm himself by the sun, to wash in the rain, and, crucially, that people do not look kindly upon his form and inarticulate attempts at speech.
It is not until he meets the blind De Lacey (the excellent Karl Johnson) that he learns far more. Benedict’s vocal work is quite extraordinary, as the Creature gradually acquires language. He holds his face as though partly paralysed throughout (which must be exhausting) - if you want the Harrovian vowels, I fear you must see him as Victor. This adaptation has the old man as his conscious teacher, not only in speech and reading, but morality. He believes humans are innately good, and this lost, nameless thing, like the solitary moon, is an innocent.
If you know the story, it’s when De Lacey’s seeing son (and in this case, daughter-in-law - Agatha is not his sister in this version) finds the Creature with his father, everything goes horribly awry. He is beaten out of the house and takes revenge (how the great men of Rome in Plutarch’s Lives might have) by setting it alight come night-time, with the cottagers inside. Thence he travels to Geneva, to meet with his maker, to which end and in frustration, he kills William, Frankenstein’s little brother, planting pages of the journal Victor left in the cloak upon him.
The reunion is fascinating. This Victor is a far more assured character than that of the original novel (I’ve recently read the 1818 version, but I know it was heavily revised by Mary Shelley in the following years, but I can’t remember to what extent), proud of his achievement in making a man with balance, strength and grace, then, even more amazingly, speech and understanding. He does not seem to realise immediately William’s death was at his Creature’s hands - he’s far less smug when he does. He tries to destroy what he has created - the being that meant no more to him than an equation - but he is not match for the ‘monster’. A pact is then made that Victor will construct a female, a companion with whom the Creature will travel to South America and live out his days in the wilderness. Making her is a prospect Victor relishes rather than reviles.
He believes he can create a goddess, make none of the mistakes he did with his first Creature, and he leaves his grieving family, including his cousin and fiancée Elizabeth (Naomie Harris on delightful form), despite all her engaging pleas and devotion to him, for the Orkneys.
He does make her, and she is beautiful. He is on the cusp of fully animating her, but, with the fear they might reproduce realised in a vision of William and to inflict the pain of loss on the Creature, he tears her apart instead of making her complete. Utterly bereft, the Creature leaves, to return when he can do most harm.
Frankenstein returns to Geneva and weds Elizabeth, but the Creature lies in wait beneath the marriage bed. When Victor leaves to check everything is secure, he appears, but Elizabeth is not afraid. She shows kindness, looks on him as Victor’s child, and she desperately wants children of their own. But it is too late. It is the Creature who claims Victor’s bride in front of his eyes before snapping her neck.
And so the chase goes on. The Creature runs farther and farther north, while Victor follows, constantly weakening but spurred on by grief and hate (the thing which the Creature taught him to do). The last scene is incredibly poignant, when the Creature thinks he’s pushed Victor to his limit and cradles him, pouring wine into his mouth and begging him not to die, as he will not know how to continue without his master and does not understand death, does not even know if he can die. The end is not the end for either, however, as they continue ever onward, their battle resumed while both are conscious, to an unknown goal.
The staging was spare but effective, and they’ve made the most of the Olivier’s revolving floor and trapdoor system (though on Monday, it all went a bit wrong after the Creature and Victor’s first meeting, causing some delay). It’s both a period piece and extremely modern, capsulated beautifully in the steampunk train of sorts which almost runs the Creature down in his flight from Ingolstadt.
I look forward to seeing the roles reversed, but seeing Benedict play the Creature is not something of which I could ever see myself growing tired. He does phenomenal work with a fascinating, physically and emotional draining part. I want to know what he’ll do with Victor, though, as he is portrayed in a far more interesting light here than the novel. Jonny was competent, but Benedict is a genius at genii - and, on an infinitely shallow note, he’ll look utterly gorgeous in the Regency frockcoats and breeches.