Actor Jason Stevens recently performed a one-man production of Frankenstein at the historic Craigdarroch Castle. Mary Shelley’s masterpiece should work perfectly as an October show in a spooky old castle, but the final product was underwhelming.
The castle was a particularly alluring aspect of the whole concept, so I was disappointed when we arrived at our seats to find the performance would be against a normal-looking wall, with our backs to the rest of the castle. Because the building had no bathrooms, no elevator, and there was no water allowed lest anyone spill it, I was hoping the location might be justified by being more heavily incorporated into the story.
I pushed past these initial concerns. The show began, and Stevens came to the front of the stage. The stage and the seats were on the same flat ground, so I was frustrated that the show began with the sole actor sitting down for several minutes. If you weren’t in the front row, you couldn’t see him at all.
What followed was functionally a first-person book report on Frankenstein. The performance was emotionally one note, with Stevens recounting the events of the story with a consistent, low-flying anguish. There were no pauses in his narration, and each beat in the plot seemed to carry the same amount of importance as any other. As a lover of Shelley’s work, this adaptation’s lack of emphasis on anything felt deaf to the themes of the story.
The most disheartening of all was that Stevens’ performance felt invulnerable. Acting as an art form exists to show us the raw and bleeding heart of the performer, especially in a work as dramatic as Frankenstein. Stevens felt distant and composed at all times. When the characters’ emotions became more intense his line delivery was louder and quicker, but it ultimately lacked the vulnerability or sincerity which can move an audience to empathy.
I’m sad to report that other elements of the play were similarly one note. Stevens barely even paced across the stage, so the space was underutilized; the show’s only prop was a letter he read from at the beginning and end of the show; the lighting consisted entirely of the same lamp light we were greeted with when we took our seats.
Generously, we could say Stevens faced some limitations on props and lights due to the historical status of the venue—but even with potential limiting factors, the show was still lazy in execution.
Moments after delivering his final line, Stevens gave a quick bow and left the stage as fast as I’ve ever seen anyone exit. The ending was so abrupt, it was confusing. Ultimately, with the speed he left at and the effort put into the show, I found myself wondering if this performance was something Stevens was even happy to be doing.