Max Baumgarten & Kila Packett in Frankenstein from Four Larks. (Photo by Kevin Parry)
Max Baumgarten & Kila Packett in Frankenstein from Four Larks. (Photo by Kevin Parry)

Frankenstein 

Reviewed by Vanessa Cate
Four Larks
Closed 

RECOMMENDED 

“I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.”

So said Mary Shelley, regarding her initial inspiration to write Frankenstein; Or, the Modern Prometheus. However, the quote might also invoke images of director Mat Sweeney, pouring over the classic text and bending it to his vision — a process of his own unhallowed art. Or perhaps of Sebastian Peters-Lazaro, imbuing his inspired, unholy choreography into the unified minds and bodies of his actors over dramatically darkened floorboards. Four Larks’s production of Frankenstein is, indeed, a mad and brilliant creation, an amalgamation of artistic disciplines, weaving together dark and beautiful elements into one awe-inspiring and horrific mass.

To begin with, the Wallis Annenberg’s Lovelace Studio Theater is transformed into a gorgeous Victorian study, populated with scintillating items (scenic and property design is by Sebastian Peters-Lazaro, additional prop design by Regan Baumgarten). The time and place are established before the play even begins, as amber lighting, antique books, skulls, harpsichord music, and the soft sound of a bitter cold wind envelope the entering audience.

The image and mythos surrounding the Frankenstein monster and its creator are now timelessly woven into our collective minds. Still, the ins and outs of the story are not as widely well known, and audiences unfamiliar with the source material may be at a loss when it comes to the narrative in this production.

Narrative, however, may not be the point. Rather, like its inspiration from galvanism, the sum is a series of sparks and sensations. Production design is merit enough in this show so much about form. From the impressively detailed set design to Brandon Baruch’s stark lighting; from Alex Hawthorn’s ominous sound design to Lena Sands’s inventive costuming — the artistry verges on scientific mastery.

Such artistry extends into the ensemble, who weave themselves in and out of character, play instruments, sing, move, and perform with an overall deftness of skill.

In a brilliant turn of adaptation, Sweeney poises Mary Shelley (played by Claire Woolner) to take a lead role in the proceedings, shadowing both Frankensteins, underscoring her own monstrous creation, as well as the personal links between her own tragic life and her fantasy.

Max Baumgarten delivers a triumphant, deft, and behemoth performance as the monster. The role shines under his fulfillment of it, and lets him showcase incredible skill, both in technique and physical dexterity, as well as emotional affectation. Peters-Lazaro’s brilliant choreography forges a creative power-couple alongside Baumgarten’s work; the creature’s movements when learning how to stand and walk is truly exceptional.

Brilliant, too, is Gavin Gomboa’s projection design, climaxing in a sexual-science experiment of cataclysmic proportions, catapulting a bound Joanna Lynn-Jacobs through time, space, nature, technology, pain, and pleasure, as she delivers gut-punch vocals alongside rocking and shrieking live instruments.

There are far too many provocative, shapely, and astute elements at work to write this piece off as anything less than exquisite. However, the original music — impressive in its own right — could take a back seat more often to other creative conceits. Sweeney and Ellen Warkentine’s music does earn its keep, though, through its haunting melodies, and, most impressively, its utility as a way to see through the eyes of the creature; most effectively through unsettling, stringed under-score, or else showing the creature’s learning of language.

Read Shelley’s novel — or don’t. Either way, it is best to surrender the notion that you need an easily digestible plot to enjoy this show. Instead, give into the madness, and embrace the horror of the unknown.

 

Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, 9390 N. Santa Monica Blvd., Beverly Hills; Closed. www.thewallis.org/frankenstein. Running time: 75 minutes with no intermission.