Review: Streaming the National Theatre's 'Frankenstein'
Skip Maloney
The very first thing that occurred to me when I heard that Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller were going to appear together in a production of Frankenstein was that all three of us had performed as Sherlock Holmes, mine being the least illustrious (by far) of the three. I put that thought on the shelf and turned my attention to the particulars of this production.
The news that it was happening came at me through a National Theater (UK) e-mail that popped up on my screen a little over a week ago, noting that beginning on April 30 and continuing for just a week (you’ve got a few days left), the National Theatre’s YouTube channel was going to broadcast Frankenstein and that alternate showings would feature, in rotation, Cumberbatch and Miller as The Creature. That was all I needed to hear and I laid a few reminder traps around my house to alert me when the opening date was at hand.
I watched it three times, twice in a row on Friday, with Cumberbatch as The Creature and one mo’ time on Saturday, with Miller in the role. This is normally unheard of, especially the part where Cathy watched it twice.
This production premiered in early February, 2011 and opened officially on February 22, where it remained in production until early May. Cumberbatch, at the time, was working on the second season of Sherlock, while Miller’s turn as Sherlock in Elementary was probably in post-production for its premiere in 2012. On successive weekends in March, 2011, the production was broadcast to cinemas around the world as part of the National Theatre’s Live program. Cumberbatch and Miller shared both the Olivier Award and the London Evening Standard Award for best actor that year (2012). Cumberbatch added a Critics’ Circle Theatre award for Best Actor. The production itself won an Olivier award for lighting design (Bruno Poet), and a Critics Circle Theatre Award for best designer (Mark Tildesley), both of which were well-deserved from my perspective on the couch, nine years later.
But nothing else. No nominations for best play, best director, best supporting actor, best usher in the house during the run. . . something, but nothing. This is textbook definition of ‘tough crowd.’ Of course, I only feel that way in retrospect, if you know what I mean. If I’d done some digging into the production’s past before I had actually watched it, I suspect that it might have altered my experience of seeing it for the first time. There’s that confirmational bias thing that can happen when you read a review (good or bad) and subsequently react to the actual production in a way that mirrors your gathered preconceptions.
Then again, the production was not judged on the basis of the filmed version, nor did it include consideration of my (or anyone else’s) state of mind at the time that I viewed it. My status had “Stuck in the house for going on a month now” written all over it, and I was more than ready for something to blow my socks off, something more powerful than the malaise of considering all that lays ahead of us as a nation. It’s not likely to be everybody’s British-appropriate cup of tea, but for those of with a good chunk of our heads and hearts invested in the production of and watching productions of top-notch theatre, this production was an eye-popping, jaw-dropping, breath-holding wonder!
OK, so with a modified spoiler alert here, tempered by an awareness that the information is unlikely to spoil one’s experience of the production, we know the basic story, right? With a tip of the hat to Wikipedia, the real story, written by the 18-year old Mary Shelley as the result of a contest between her, her future husband Percy B. Shelley and Lord Byron, was published anonymously in London in 1818, when she would have been 20. Her name first appeared in the second edition, published in Paris in 1821. In what’s known as epistolary form, documenting a fictional correspondence (letters, written in the 18th century) between a sea captain and his sister, we meet Victor Frankenstein, who, many years before finding himself on the sea captain’s boat in the general vicinity of the North Pole, had conducted a scientific experiment and recreated, brought to life, from the stitching together of human body parts, a live human being, referred to throughout, as The Creature. Frankenstein lives to regret that decision, of course. Complications ensue, as they say, and in the end, Victor chases the creature he created into the vicinity of the North Pole before he dies. The creature, mourning over the body, tells the captain of a ship that he is going to kill himself. The creature drifts away on an ice raft, never to be seen again. End of story.
Which is almost the way the staged production ends. Not quite, mind you. Frankenstein and The Creature are still alive at the end, though on a dog sled, trudging off into the ice and snow. Frankenstein dogging the steps of The Creature, leading the way into what is surely going to be their oblivion. There is a sense, borne, I suspect, of the production’s intent, that while you’ve been mesmerized by this for the past two hours, you’re somewhat glad when it’s over. It’s drama, that theatrical form that by definition, doesn’t end well, so there’s something in you that breathes a sigh of relief when those award-winning lights pop off at the end.
Combined with those award-winning lights, the award-winning stage design, nestled in a three-quarter round space in the National Theatre in London, starts us off in a red mood on a bare stage with a human-height, circle of fabric in a round frame, through which we can glimpse the shadow of something twitching. The Creature literally falls out of this round frame and flops, apparently helpless on the stage, while it tries to get its bearings and figure out what the hell has just happened. It’s dressed in a stylized diaper and watching this creature is like watching a baby progress through about a year-and-a-half’s worth of growth in about 15 minutes. It flaps and bends its arms, rolls over, makes noises, as it tries to get up and move around. I believe I knew the minute I watched Benedict Cumberbatch do this scene that I was going to have to see what Miller would do with it, accounting for my third viewing of the whole play.
Make no mistake, there is a difference between the two. While they both use a number of foundational tools and likely direction to create The Creature, they seem to come at it from a slightly different angle. In the midst of my third viewing, paying attention particularly to Miller’s work as The Creature, it struck me that they’d both created different Frankensteins, as well, and possibly, that it was calculated. Cumberbatch’s Creature seems a little more generally confused, about himself and the world around him, while Miller’s take on Frankenstein seems much more self-assured (though not by much) about the same things. The reverse seemed to be true when they switch. Miller’s Creature is more self-assured, as Cumberbatch’s Frankenstein is not.
Frankenstein gets a look at this thing he’s just brought to life and just freaks out, running in terror from the thing he created. We follow The Creature in exile through a learning process that includes the development of a decent vocabulary and ultimately reading Milton’s Paradise Lost (not on-stage, mind you). The Creature does a couple of horrific things, for while the development of his brain through interaction with culture seems to have increased his knowledge, it doesn’t seem to have done a lot about the installation of a moral compass or impulse control. He re-connects with Frankenstein and threatens his creator with horrible options if he doesn’t create a female counterpart for him. Frankenstein agrees, postpones his wedding, and secludes himself to start robbing graves for the necessary parts.
He creates the female, but ultimately destroys her, right in front of the creature, as he intuits and explains to the creature that nothing good will come from two of them. Further complications, followed by disasters, ensue until finally, the two are at or near the North Pole with the creator intent upon destroying his own creation.
Written by Nick Dear, the production was directed by Danny Boyle, who directed Miller previously in the film, Trainspotting, as well as being at the helm of Slumdog Millionaire and more recently, Yesterday. While the eye popping, jaw dropping and breath-holding part of it centered on the performances of Cumberbatch and Miller, it was by no means just about them. The set design by Mark Tildesley, which featured a moving circle, out of which emerged a variety of set pieces, to include a raw workshop, which appeared to have stone/boulder walls, where Frankenstein created the female creature, and Frankenstein’s bedroom with high, arched windows, through which poured just one example of Bruno Poet’s award-winning lighting. The music by Karl Hyde and Rick Smith was ever-present, though almost ‘invisible’ as it occurred, providing, as all good soundtracks do, a complement to the action without calling a lot of attention to itself.
As noted previously, you have until this Friday, May 8 to catch this production for free on YouTube. Cumberbatch’s last appearance as The Creature will occur on Thursday, May 7, while Miller will close it out the following day. It should be available after Friday, but you’ll likely have to pay for it and if, for whatever reason, you miss out on the free screenings, it is beyond well worth paying to see.
I’m still trying to figure out what the critics failed to see in 2011 that kept this production from earning at least nominations for best play and best director. It’s not as though the competition was strong, although to be honest, I didn’t recognize the winners from that year (2012, for award purposes). Now that I’ve gotten this down and ready for delivery, I think I’m going to head out and see if I can’t catch a few of the reviews, both from back then and more recently, as critics tackled this re-screening.
Perfect quarantine fare that’ll take you right out of things and put you there as it unfolds.
You can watch the show below: