the heart of a monster: National Theatre Live does Frankenstein
"I am good at the art of assimilation. I have watched and listened and learned. At first I knew nothing at all. But I studied the ways of men, and slowly I learned how to ruin, how to hate, how to debase, how to humiliate. And at the feet of my master, I learned the highest of human skills, the skill no other creature owns: I finally learned how to lie." Nick Dear, Frankenstein
Yesterday afternoon, I was fortunate enough to find the time to attend an encore presentation of National Theatre Live's Frankenstein at my local cinema. The production sees Nick Dear's screenplay adaptation of Mary Shelley's classic novel brought to life on stage under the direction of Danny Boyle and featuring, in the version I saw, Benedict Cumberbatch as Victor Frankenstein and Jonny Lee Miller as the Creature. It is a brilliant piece of work, for many reasons. The play opens with the "birth" of the Creature and follows his development, focusing on a few crucial moments in the book, i.e. Frankenstein's rejection of his creation, and De Lacey's compassion for and education of the Creature and the disastrous consequences when De Lacey's son and daughter-in-law finally encounter the old man's new friend. Jonny Lee Miller imbues the Creature with a heart-rending child-like innocence, and, indeed, the story is told as it should be, from the perspective of the Creature and with sympathy for him and horror at the dark capabilities of man in the direst of circumstances (little wonder Danny Boyle was such an excellent choice to be the magic-maker behind this production, particularly when taking his film work into consideration). The Creature struggles to take his first steps, learns to speak, sees the sun rise, feels the rain on his face, seeks out friendship, and learns of and is frustrated by the inconsistencies of human existence. Nick Dear's screenplay is highly effective in its intense examination of what I feel is the main question at the heart of Frankenstein: are monsters born or created?
Benedict Cumberbatch, lovely as always, steps with ease into the role of mad scientist. Far from the over-the-top nearly comedic "It's alive! IT'S ALIVE!" Dr. Frankenstein's of old-time cinema, here we see a man whose intense devotion to his work borders on perverse, to such an extent that, in the climactic scene in which a frantic Victor insists that he has the ability to re-animate the murdered Elizabeth, one wonders whether his impassioned state is brought about by scientific obsession rather than love.
Cumberbatch and Miller have chemistry perfectly suited to the complicated relationship between their characters. I enjoy that the play ends with the implication of an interminable pursuit, with Frankenstein and the Creature discovering in each other a solitary consuming reason for being. As the two run off toward their mutually assured destruction, the stage lights begin to dim, and it becomes difficult to distinguish precisely where the man ends and the monster begins.
Yesterday afternoon, I was fortunate enough to find the time to attend an encore presentation of National Theatre Live's Frankenstein at my local cinema. The production sees Nick Dear's screenplay adaptation of Mary Shelley's classic novel brought to life on stage under the direction of Danny Boyle and featuring, in the version I saw, Benedict Cumberbatch as Victor Frankenstein and Jonny Lee Miller as the Creature. It is a brilliant piece of work, for many reasons. The play opens with the "birth" of the Creature and follows his development, focusing on a few crucial moments in the book, i.e. Frankenstein's rejection of his creation, and De Lacey's compassion for and education of the Creature and the disastrous consequences when De Lacey's son and daughter-in-law finally encounter the old man's new friend. Jonny Lee Miller imbues the Creature with a heart-rending child-like innocence, and, indeed, the story is told as it should be, from the perspective of the Creature and with sympathy for him and horror at the dark capabilities of man in the direst of circumstances (little wonder Danny Boyle was such an excellent choice to be the magic-maker behind this production, particularly when taking his film work into consideration). The Creature struggles to take his first steps, learns to speak, sees the sun rise, feels the rain on his face, seeks out friendship, and learns of and is frustrated by the inconsistencies of human existence. Nick Dear's screenplay is highly effective in its intense examination of what I feel is the main question at the heart of Frankenstein: are monsters born or created?
Benedict Cumberbatch, lovely as always, steps with ease into the role of mad scientist. Far from the over-the-top nearly comedic "It's alive! IT'S ALIVE!" Dr. Frankenstein's of old-time cinema, here we see a man whose intense devotion to his work borders on perverse, to such an extent that, in the climactic scene in which a frantic Victor insists that he has the ability to re-animate the murdered Elizabeth, one wonders whether his impassioned state is brought about by scientific obsession rather than love.
Cumberbatch and Miller have chemistry perfectly suited to the complicated relationship between their characters. I enjoy that the play ends with the implication of an interminable pursuit, with Frankenstein and the Creature discovering in each other a solitary consuming reason for being. As the two run off toward their mutually assured destruction, the stage lights begin to dim, and it becomes difficult to distinguish precisely where the man ends and the monster begins.