Harrison White and Michael Manuel in Nick Dear's Frankenstein at A Noise Within. (Photo by Craig Schwartz)
Harrison White and Michael Manuel in Nick Dear’s Frankenstein at A Noise Within. (Photo by Craig Schwartz)

Frankenstein

Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
A Noise Within
Through September 8

From a literary standpoint, Nick Dear’s stage adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is neither complicated nor opaque.

As in the famous 1931 film (directed by James Whale and starring Boris Karloff), it’s about a man-made monster whose grotesque appearance spooks most everyone he meets. But unlike the film version, the creature in Dear’s play (and in Shelley’s novel) evolves from a grunting wailing creature into an articulate being. In Dear’s stage chronicle, the erudite ghoul reads Plutarch and recites poetry, and suffers inordinately from others’ rejection. Nor is there anything subtle about the ways in which he’s abused, which are with bats and whips; bullied and beaten, he’s driven to the margins of society, where he suffers great loneliness that eventually morphs into angry resentment and a desire for revenge. It’s an inherently powerful tale that speaks to anyone ever unjustly taunted, or marginalized, or impelled to extreme behavior from a deprivation of love. An adversity experienced by regular folks, most of whom master their impulses and grow into normal adults, it can also match the profile of people who commit great crimes.

So there’s potential here for compelling theater. At A Noise Within, however, Michael Michetti’s staging draws its strength from production values, rather than any soulful performance or emotional investiture from the actors. Dominated by Robert Oriol’s sound design, it’s an impressive spectacle, enshrouding a dry and static drama.

Waking, the Creature (Michael Manuel) is subject to severe seizures and other turbulent gyrations as he struggles to consciousness (movement director Rhonda Kohl). Manuel delivers an intensely physical performance requiring much stamina and commitment. But from the beginning, his aura is cool and choreographed, and despite his vocal power, his rage and pain never combust internally.

In the story, the Creature’s prime nemesis is his creator, Victor Frankenstein (Casey Mahaffy), a brilliant young man who pursues his projects with a combination of fierce hubris and scholarly curiosity. Victor has been engaged for six years to the lovely Elizabeth (Erika Soto), who understandably is getting pretty fed up with waiting for Victor to find time to marry her (this being 19th century Britain, she’s expected to hang around looking beautiful, with nothing else to do). In one of the play’s more contemporary-sounding scenes, she calls Victor on this, but he’s as dense to her feelings as he is to those of the Creature. Fundamentally, the world is all about him.

Dear’s dialogue is fairly elementary; it’s up to the actors to fill it out. The role of a narcissistic scientist with chauvinist views about women offers plenty of opportunity to shine despite the script’s limitations, but Mahaffy merely declaims. Even the versatile Soto is often stiff (here I really must call out the director for this stylistic choice), although she does deliver the goods in what is arguably the most moving scene in the play, where Elizabeth looks upon the Creature and extends her hand in friendship.

The standout performance is by Harrison White as a down-to-earth elderly blind man, possessor of wisdom and compassion, who for a brief while becomes the Creature’s only friend. Desirée Mee Jung brings authenticity to her minor role as Elizabeth’s maid.

The production values are topnotch. Scenic designer Francois-Pierre Couture employs a plethora of pillars that descend from the ceiling in various formations depending on the setting. He also uses scrims that mirror the action, creating an interesting effect. Jared A. Sayeg’s lighting skillfully illuminates shifts in time and place, becoming warmer in scenes where the Creature meets his friend (but his design falls short in lighting actors’ faces, too often in shadow). Oriol frames the narrative with an undercurrent of suspenseful sound and an original score that greatly enhances the story, though at times it swells to annoyingly bathetic proportion.

A Noise Within, 3352 E. Foothill Blvd., Pasadena; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; Wed., Aug. 28, 8 p.m.; through Sep. 8. (626) 356-3100 or https://www.anoisewithin.org/play/frankenstein/. Running time: approximately two hours with no intermission.