Frankenstein: Till Death Us Do Part

I was just a little bit two-faced for Halloween...

             I hope you all had a suitably ghoulish Halloween! I dressed up as a Day of the Dead sugar skull and was just a little bit two-faced…I did my make-up myself and only tried the look out for the first time on the 31^st! I’m glad it turned out well and I spent my evening on a boat that cruised the River Thames. It was lovely to grab some air and see some sights from the top deck, the most impressive being everyone’s costumes!

             I know I’m a bit behind the power curve since Halloween has already been and gone and we’re on our way to Christmas now, but I would like to share how I kick started my Halloween with Frankenstein. It too deals with a myriad of two-faced behavior and all things nightmarish, a lot of those things being manmade (quite literally).

Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller alternated roles as Victor Frankenstein and his Creature in the stage adaptation of Mary Shelley's famous novel, photo courtesy of National Theatre Live

             Frankenstein, directed by Danny Boyle, first exploded at the National Theatre in London in 2011. Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller alternated roles as Victor Frankenstein and Frankenstein’s Creature in this alternative rendition of Mary Shelley’s novel, adapted by Nick Dear. During that same year, the production was broadcast at movie theatres worldwide in association with the National Theatre Live program. Once again, Frankenstein ran for a limited time in 2012, with Encore screenings in 2013. Almost half a million people have flocked to movie theatres to watch the retelling of this famous tale.

             Just in time for Halloween, I was lucky enough to catch the rebroadcast of the production this year. Oh, what I would have given to see the production live! I suppose I am comforted by the fact that I only moved to London in 2012…Frankenstein was brought back by popular demand and it wasn’t hard to see why. The immense cult following surrounding Cumberbatch was already an indication that it was set to be a smash hit. However, I am a huge Miller as well as Cumberbatch fan. I found it interesting that they were cast together, especially since Cumberbatch is known for his role as Sherlock Holmes in Sherlock and Miller plays his counterpart across the pond in the New York-based Elementary.

Miller (left) and Cumberbatch (right) as Victor Frankenstein, photos courtesy of National Theatre Live

             I quickly booked myself in for the October 30^th and November 6^th showings, the former starring Cumberbatch as Creature/Miller as Frankenstein and the latter starring Miller as Creature/Cumberbatch as Frankenstein. I wanted to compare the two, and as they were only spread a week apart, it gave me the perfect opportunity to witness how they tackled both characters.

             The most obvious thing to note would have been whether they were each better suited to a particular role. However, I am going to put this out there right now and say that I cannot tell you which viewing I enjoyed more, because they were both so different. Cumberbatch and Miller really added their own flair to what I saw as rather grueling roles.

Miller (top) and Cumberbatch (bottom) as Creature, photos courtesy of National Theatre Live

             Both viewings were surprisingly not as packed as I was expecting, but that kept the rustle of popcorn bags and indistinct chatter at an all time low. I think it’s important to mention at this point that before Frankenstein began, the audience was shown a clip that delved into the making of the production. Cumberbatch cited videos of stroke victims in recovery as his research to play Creature, while Miller tapped into his inner two-year old. These descriptions, in my opinion, clarified how the actors’ envisaged playing the characters. The different interpretations left me feeling different emotions towards the same character.

             What we can perhaps call a “birthing” scene was the intense opener, to say the least. Creature, the proof of Frankenstein’s craftsmanship, awoke in an awkward burst of movement and flailing. He emerged from where he was entrapped: a “womb-like” disc comprised of opaque material. The disc pulsed with the silhouette of a fully-grown man who came out wriggling like a baby. Then, in front of our eyes occurred an evolution: a transition from crawling to falling to stumbling to walking. When Frankenstein walked in on his creation, he cast him off because of his monstrous appearance.

The "womb-like" disc from which Frankenstein's Creature was "born," photo courtesy of National Theatre Live

             At the heart of Frankenstein is a very sad story. Having read the original book, I would claim that this production stayed true to Shelley’s intentions more than any of its predecessors. As the clip before the viewing expressed, Frankenstein the play gave Creature a voice. He has been previously conveyed as a monstrosity, someone to be feared, a character of the horror genre. Above all of that, however, he is a man who wants to be loved, which is a pleasure that no person should be denied in life.

             Creature entered the world as a blank slate, but he quickly became educated and acquainted with the ways of human nature. In the play, the only kindness he was shown was from a blind man whose opinions could not be swayed by the sight of him. When the man’s son and wife finally met Creature, they were not quite as welcoming. Abandoned by his creator, confused about his origins, and alone as society’s cast-off, is it any wonder that Creature developed a complex? He later goes on to burn, rape, kill, and manipulate.

The 1931 film Frankenstein, where Frankenstein's Creature does not speak, is just one example of how Shelley's character has been misrepresented, photo courtesy of IMDb 

             Viewing Frankenstein at a movie theatre rather than an actual theatre did not come without its advantages. The cameras focused on the right people and areas of the stage at the right time. This provided the audience with an all-access pass to the up-close emotions of Cumberbatch and Miller and their phenomenal make-up! The transformation took around two and a half hours to recreate each night. Hundreds of dimmer lights glowed and sparked on the ceiling. During particularly prominent scenes, the lights flickered in a surge of inspiration, as if to say, “Eureka!”

             Miller made for a cold and calculating Frankenstein. His portrayal of a crazed man obsessed with the genius of science counteracted Cumberbatch’s tamer, softer Frankenstein. Where Miller appeared deeply unconcerned about the relationships dissolving around him in the pursuit of his desire to create life, Cumberbatch still appeared torn and eaten up with remorse. In terms of the role of Creature, on the other hand, Miller was childlike and innocent, a performance which really pulled at the heartstrings. Miller was misunderstood and seemed to be driven by circumstances whereas Cumberbatch evoked less pity and acted with less naïvety, more brutality.

The impressive array of lights above the stage acted as a reminder of an all-important force: electricity, photo courtesy of National Theatre Live 

             I cannot even imagine how physically, nonetheless emotionally, taxing the roles were to play. It must have been exhausting for Miller and Cumberbatch to get into character, for both characters! Miller and Cumberbatch exposed their vulnerabilities on stage, proving just how good they are as actors. Creature was not born knowing how to walk or talk, so we followed the painstaking process with him as he learned. Miller and Cumberbatch both brought their own interpretation to Creature’s voice and also touches of humor to the role. Miller drooled and gurgled like a baby would, while Cumberbatch enunciated his words with a lisping choppiness.

             Above all, Frankenstein is a commentary about the cruelty of the world we live in and of human nature. Creature started life with all of the good in his heart and laughed at the grass, the sun, and the feel of the rain on his distorted flesh. Then, reality sank in, and evil penetrated his heart. All Creature wanted was a friend and the possibility of love. When Frankenstein asked Creature what he knew of love, Creature responded with a soul-destroying confession that he felt as if everything was bubbling up inside of him. Frankenstein responded with, “Is that what love feels like?,” which I found befitting, because surely Frankenstein knew no more of love than Creature. The only love Frankenstein came to know was the love of his scientific work, but not of human beings.

Miller and Cumberbatch's transformation took around two and a half hours to recreate each night!, photos courtesy of Simon Annand  

             In the tragic denouement of the story, Creature sought out Frankenstein and demanded that he make a female just like him. Frankenstein agreed, only to create and subsequently destroy the lifeless form before she even took her first breath. Creature then made it his mission to hunt down Frankenstein and rape and kill his wife in revenge. In a departure from the original storyline, the unlikely duo then traveled to the frigid North Pole together, both acting as the other’s purpose in life. When Frankenstein is destroyed, it is assumed that Creature will be destroyed too, and vice versa.

             In this twisted marriage, Frankenstein and his Creature are bound eternally until in death they will part. When people refer to the story of Frankenstein, often times the names of Frankenstein and Creature are muddled up. Indeed, Creature is usually called Frankenstein, but I think this aptly illustrates the attachment that Frankenstein and his Creature share. It as if they are one. Perhaps this is why the alternating of the actors’ roles worked so well in this production. They marvel at each other and hate each other for their sins, but they need each other. Allusions to God were made throughout the production as Frankenstein “played God” by creating life. Creature retorted that he felt bad for Satan, because he too was cast out just like Satan was of heaven. When Creature tasted bile, it was Satan’s bile.

Frankenstein and his Creature marvel at each other and hate each other for their sins, but..., photos courtesy of National Theatre Live

             The play ended on a very powerful scene as a cold and weak Frankenstein and a dominant Creature set off with a sled into a cloud of smoke. In a role reversal, the Master became the Slave. Then they departed, figuratively chained together in mutual loathing, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.

             Despite demands from the public, there is currently no word of a DVD release for Frankenstein. However, due to that same public demand, I am sure this is not the last time the production will grace movie theatre screens. Make sure to keep your eyes peeled!

...they need each other, photos courtesy of National Theatre Live

Our Town Was Made for You and Me

David Cromer, who has reworked Our Town for the Almeida Theatre, also stars in the production in the role of stage manager, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The Almeida Theatre has welcomed actor/director David Cromer to work his magic with Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. The play has been hailed as one of the best-known and most-performed plays in the United States. It was first introduced on Broadway in 1938 and was revolutionary for its time because it disobeyed typical theatre customs. The play is lacking in set and relies on minimal props and natural lighting to tell the story. Wilder broke the fourth wall, which is usually the boundary separating the audience from the action.

Use your imagination! Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) prepares "food," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Indeed, these breaks from normal conventions are evident from the very start of Our Town. The audience is subjected to what can barely be called a stage due to its inclusive nature. Members of the audience are actually situated in the same vicinity as the actors. Two tables with four chairs reside on the space to make up the layout. Cromer acts as the stage manager throughout the play, and as he comments directly to us, this is “scenery for those who think they have to have scenery.”

 Audience members are seated in close proximity to the actors and to the "scenery for those who think they have to have scenery," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Our Town is appealing because it takes the humdrum and twists it into a production that is watchable and simultaneously relatable. As the description of the play on the Almeida Theatre’s website states, “We all grow-up, we fall in love, we have families and we all die. That is our story.” That is everyone’s story and it’s a universal one at that. You would think that watching a play about something we enact everyday would be monotonous, but if anything, it makes you even more invested in the storyline.

David Walmsley during rehearsal, who plays Emily Webb's friend and eventual husband, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner 

             As little Emily Webb (Laura Elsworthy) awkwardly flirts with her neighbor, George Gibbs (David Walmsley), I can feel the collective sigh of the audience as they recollect their own personal experiences with adolescence. George attempts a marriage proposal over milkshakes and we watch on throughout the marriage ceremony. Emily and George have a family together, but Emily dies young giving birth to their second child.

Laura Elsworthy (Emily Webb) pictured with Daniel Kendrick (milkman Howie Newsome) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Just like the changing of seasons, we lay witness to a speeded-up version of life’s stages. It was life portrayed in two hours and five minutes, including two intervals, to be exact. You need to be cognizant not to take intermissions from life however. Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie) and Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) gossip like neighbors do and prepare food for dinner. The cheery milkman Howie Newsome (Daniel Kendrick) does his rounds, pulling along his imaginary (at least to the human eye) cow. Dr. Gibbs scolds his son for focusing more on baseball than helping his mother.

Milkman Howie Newsome delivering milk with his "cow" in tow, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) takes the stage, providing us with a lecture and reciting statistics about the town. Cromer hands members of the audience slips of paper with questions on to ask Willard, which was an inclusion representative of the friendliness and involvement of small towns. In the Almeida Theatre that night, we were all a town in our own right.  

Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) tells the audience all about the history of the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) is the emotional wedding guest as she gushes about Emily and George's beautiful wedding. Members of the community attend choir practice at the local church. Then, of course there is the town drunk and church organist, Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines). Compared to the utter normality of the rest of the town, his unruly behavior lends itself to perpetuating the rumor that he is becoming evermore unhinged.

Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines) drunkenly leads the local church's choir group which leads to an interesting practice session, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             In succinct summary, that is the story of Our Town, but the message is much greater in the grand scheme of things. After Emily dies, she descends to a resting place in the graveyard with others who she once knew in the town. One such resident is Stimson, who took his own life. At first, she is just as full of life as she was when she was alive, but this quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst. Emily is puzzled about the cold detachment of the residents of the surrounding tombstones. She realizes that she is able to revisit a prior time in her life, so she chooses one of her birthdays at home with her parents.

Wally Webb (Arthur Byrne), another resident of the graveyard, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             At this point, the only semblance of a set throughout the entire performance is revealed behind a curtain, fully equipped with things such as: food, a staircase, a kitchen area, a dining room with a table and chairs, and windows. The actors’ British accents have also morphed into American ones, a very subtle change that implies the sameness of all towns. One is like the other is like the other. The people might change, but the stories stay the same.

Emily helps her mother, Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie), with food preparation, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             With increasing panic, Emily notices that her parents and her younger self hardly look at one another during this otherworldly experience. She exclaims, “That's all human beings are! Just blind people.” Stimson seconds this thought from the grave, claiming that people live in a “cloud of ignorance and blindness.” Perhaps most profound, however, is when Emily poses the question, “Do people realize life as they live it?” Cromer comes in at this point and quips, “Some; saints and poets do.” The answer is most likely a realistic no, especially in London, where everyone seems to be in some sort of a hurry.

Rebecca Gibbs (Jessica Lester) and her brother George enjoy simple pleasures, such as stargazing, in the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             I left the theatre concerned for my own mortality, having just viewed the final scene where Emily comes to terms with her death and adopts a stoic stance to the outside world. Even as her widowed husband visits her at her grave, she joins the others in miniscule talk of things such as the weather.

Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The nature of life is that of a never-ending vicious cycle, much like the washing cycle of a load of laundry that spins and spins until it eventually must cease out of domestic exhaustion. When referring to Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Gibbs, Cromer says, half in jest and half in truth, "They brought up two children apiece, washed, cleaned the house — and never a nervous breakdown." Unlike human beings, plays and the characters in them are eternal. Well, let’s all hope we keep pleasure in our lives to a maximum while keeping nervous breakdowns to a minimum.

             Catch Our Town at the Almeida Theatre before it ends its run on November 29^th. Purchase tickets (while you still can!) here.   

That's all folks! As the stage manager, Cromer (pictured here during rehearsal) provides a running commentary throughout the play, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

Sea-ing Red

Paul Cummins' installation Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red at the Tower of London features the "Weeping Window" front and center 

             What I am about to introduce doesn’t really need much of a prelude, because it really is poignant enough to stand on its own. Today marks Remembrance Day, in honor of November 11^th 1918, when at 11 a.m., World War I came to its end.

The Tower of London's 16-acre moat filled with poppies

              In the weeks leading up to today, London has been awash with the famous red remembrance poppy. The poppy is used to commemorate soldiers who have died at war. People pin paper or metal versions of the flower on their coats, while buses and trains opt for poppy decals. It’s a heartwarming sight to witness, especially in such a big city, when everyone unites under the same cause.

Lest we forget

             There can be no sight more moving, however, than the Tower of London installation, Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red. 100 years after World War I, the installation is comprised of 888,246 ceramic poppies created by ceramic artist Paul Cummins. Each poppy represents one death in the British or Commonwealth forces in World War I. A staggering figure on its own, it is even more alarming when visually represented.

All of the 888,246 ceramic poppies were handmade, each one taking three days to complete

             Stage designer Tom Piper was responsible for the setting, with the end result producing an undulating effect. The poppies are a sea of red, creating a very uncanny and very unsettling resemblance to blood. The poppies fill the Tower of London’s 16-acre moat and pour out of what is called the “Weeping Window” in deliberate artistic dexterity. 

Stage designer Tom Piper was responsible for giving the poppies their wavelike effect, producing what resembles a sea of blood

             Over 200 volunteers a day planted 50 poppies per square meter and the turnout amassed almost 5 million visitors. The handmade poppies (which took three days each to make) were made available to purchase by the public and sold out, with 10 percent of proceeds and all net proceeds shared equally amongst six service charities. Buyers will then be sent their poppies by January 2015.

The "Wave" of poppies 

             The installation has been so popular that a public campaign wanted to make the display permanent, but 1,000 volunteers will gather tomorrow (November the 12^th) to start dismantling and cleaning the poppies. However, you will still be able to see two sections, the "Wave" of poppies and the "Weeping Window," at the Tower of London until the end of November. The "Wave" and the "Weeping Window" will then be transported across England to different museums until they settle in their final resting place at the Imperial War Museum in London and Manchester in 2018. 

My dad, a retired U.S. Army veteran who served for 25 years, looking out over the poppies

             We all know that a picture is worth a thousand words, just like the above photograph of my dad. It was really special to be able to experience the installation with my parents while they were visiting me in London over the weekend. The "Army brat," military lifestyle has always been a pervasive factor for me and I cannot express enough how grateful I am for those who are currently serving or who have previously served in the armed forces.

The extreme contrast of new and old is evident as the Tower of London is pictured with the Gherkin in the background

             I hope that the photographs of my visit to the installation speak for themselves. I was rendered speechless by the vast scope of the project and I’m sure you will be too. Its transitory nature acts as a reminder that life is exactly that: transient, impermanent, fleeting. Each one of those 888,246 men died for us, so we owe it to them to well and truly live. 

             The idea to fill the Tower of London’s moat with poppies came to Cummins after discovering a poem written by an unknown soldier. Sent home before the soldier's death, the poem is also how the installation received its name: 

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red

The blood swept lands and seas of red,

Where angels dare to tread.

As God cried a tear of pain as the angels fell,

Again and again.

As the tears of mine fell to the ground

To sleep with the flowers of red

As any be dead

My children see and work through fields of my

Own with corn and wheat,

Blessed by love so far from pain of my resting

Fields so far from my love.

It be time to put my hand up and end this pain

Of living hell. to see the people around me

Fall someone angel as the mist falls around

And the rain so thick with black thunder I hear

Over the clouds, to sleep forever and kiss

The flower of my people gone before time

To sleep and cry no more

I put my hand up and see the land of red,

This is my time to go over,

I may not come back

So sleep, kiss the boys for me

The view of City Hall and the Shard in all of their glistening modernity can be seen opposite the historic Tower of London

             To donate to the Poppy Appeal, which is devoted to raising money to help servicemen and women, veterans, and their families, get involved here. If you’re interested in learning about how the poppies were made, read all about the process here. Cummins actually lost one of his fingers in an industrial roller while working on the poppies!