On Saturday evening, I trudged through a frigid downpour to stand before the imposing architecture of Craigdarroch Castle. Darkly silhouetted against the dusky sky, all that was necessary to complete the mood was a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder. In a small room beneath the attic, I witnessed actor Jason Stevens’ telling of the classic story Frankenstein.
Frankenstein is less about horror than it is about heartbreak—a bewildered, ignorant creature is given life then abandoned by the creator from whom he desperately desired affection. This rejection instigates a rueful plot of revenge against the foolish mad scientist by a manufactured man so hideous he recoils from his own reflection and strikes fear into the heart of anyone who views his ghastly visage. Unlike the 1931 film, the literary depiction of Frankenstein’s monster is that of an eloquent entity whose isolation and persecution crushes him to the core of his compassionate soul.
Stevens’ portrayal is storytelling in its rawest form—he has no costumes or props, but the sound of his voice and his physical expression carry the story powerfully. There is an aged, archaic texture to his voice that well embodies the tale’s Victorian characters, and he uses subtle changes in prosody and energy to escort the audience along. Many lines are delivered like poetry, slowly and deliberately, only to increase in pace and volume until Stevens is viscerally shouting the agonized rage of his characters, his voice echoing within the cloistered walls. Then, moments later, he is quiet again—perhaps wistful and anguished—until his dynamic rhythm brings forth the next peak of excitement.
The castle itself is a breathtaking snapshot of what the affluent family of a coal baron called their home in the late 19th century, and it lends an air of intimacy and authenticity to the story. My only displeasure with the show was with the woefully inadequate lighting. The spot where Stevens presents was poorly chosen: in a dim room he stood in front of and below a painfully bright light which threw him into murky shadow, and throughout the performance I struggled to see his features. Even a single free-standing lamp on a battery pack would have done wonders to illuminate the actor and improve the visual presentation.
Despite this, Stevens’ performance of the gothic literary classic is engaging and entertaining, and viewers who have never experienced the emotional complexity of the original will be moved by the humanity portrayed within the poor, wretched monster who comes to life to tell a tale of woeful torment. Entombed in misery, he stood before me and wailed, “I have carried hell within me!” and I held my breath, eager for more.
Frankenstein
October 16, 23, 30
$30, Craigdarroch Castle
thecastle.ca