STC’s Frankenstein: A Shambling Mess

It's hard to imagine that Emily Burns' Frankenstein, now on stage at Shakespeare Theatre Company, could have been any worse, but it really could have. Kaye Voyce's costumes, Neil Austin's lighting, and Andrew Boyce's set designs were all masterful, working in harmony to establish tone, build and develop character, and support the narrative. Unfortunately for these creatives, and others who worked on the project, their efforts were tied to a script that is nowhere near ready for staging.

The trouble begins even before the curtain rises. I have several quibbles with Emily Burns' "Director's Note," which I find to be misleading or misrepresentative; it's an incomplete picture that lacks nuance and insight. But it's a director's note in a printed program, and I am a persnickety literary scholar and cultural historian: I am not the target audience. But Burns does make one comment that I think deserves a little bit of broader attention: noting the death of Percy Shelley's first wife Burns writes that "Harriet, committed suicide - Percy's creature still in her belly" (p. 17). "Percy's creature still in her belly." In this quip Burns reduces Harriet to a device - she nothing more than a vessel for a "creature" that connects Shelley's choices to the character of Victor Frankenstein. Burns is trying to be cute, but this flippancy is misogynistic and dehumanizing, and inappropriate for a scholar writing in 2025.

Simon Godwin's terse introductory note asserts that Burns' adaptation is "set in its original time frame, while speaking with exhilarating power to the present" (p. 5). This reflects the director's note, which begins with the statement that "Canonical literature can die many deaths" (p. 13). But Burns is not reviving a long-buried artifact, breathing life into a petrified relic: Frankenstein, like the creature of the story, has never died. For over 200 years it has remained signficant, entertaining, and culturally relevant. It has been adapted across all forms of media, and lives far beyond the borders of its original publication (I highly recommend Frankenstein in Bagdad). Which does not mean that we've had enough! Frankenstein has lived for 200+ years because it continues to inspire new art. Some more successful than others.

Elizabeth as a character is inconsistent at best. She is a young woman trapped by time and place, unable to find society, education, or experience beyond the confines of the Frankensteins’ small community. She wants all of these things, and is simultaneously paralyzed by the fear of stagnation; for her, this means a drive to marry and have children, as she grasps for some purpose and occupation. She has been groomed to marry her stepbrother, and fixates on him as her only means of escape. Burns’ adaptation pulls many of these problems into focus, but offers no resolution or character development. Elizabeth threatens to withhold marriage from Victor, but he knows she has no other option, and her actions echo her own understanding of her captivity. She pretends at defiance and agency, but exercises none. Burns could have gone either direction - willful defiance or miserable acquiescence - but instead writes Elizabeth as desperately obedient. She knows better, and still does nothing.

This is best demonstrated in the second act, when Burns moves from the novel to her own fiction. She had incredible opportunities to explore gender, power, monstrosity, and maternity, but instead stripped Elizabeth of even the little strength she had and writes her blindly abandoning her infant daughter to run away with her flake of an emotionally abusive husband. This is inconsistent with the character from the first act, and Elizabeth continues to wither as the play goes on.

According to STC emails the production had been “extended by popular demand,” but this notice came before the show even technically opened. The Post, Stage and Cinema, Georgetown Dish, and DC Outlook are all quoted as praising the production for its creativity, forward-thinking, and power, but such praise feels disengenuous. The production stars a talented woman of color, who deserves her own praise, but in a role that stifles her rather than giving her space to truly perform. So yes, S’manga is wonderful, but Burns’ Frankenstein is not.

At the end of every play I’ve attended over the last few years some or all of the audience has jumped to their feet for a standing ovation, regardless of the quality of the production they’ve just seen. It seems to be part of the performance experience these days. So it’s very notable that no one stood at the end of Frankenstein. The audience was quick to end their applause, and shuffled out whispering critically about the show they’d just seen. They were confused and they were disappointed, but they were not enchanted.

Burns needs to undertake extensive rewrites to get this play up to the standards I’d expect of STC. It’s one to miss