Playwright: Barbara Fields. At: Bohemian Theatre Ensemble, 7016 N. Glenwood. Phone: 866-811-4111; $16-$20. Runs through: April 11. Photo by Brandon Dahlquist
Victor Frankenstein cobbles together a humanoid but not a human being: His Creature has no navel. Also, like Bush's plan for Iraq, Frankenstein lacks an exit strategy. The Creature is fully grown and sentient but without any life memory or exposure to even the most primitive sensory stimuli—those of the fetus in the womb. On that first night, "I heard, saw, smelled all at once. Fear overwhelmed me," the Creature tells his creator, years later. The good doctor doesn't even provide food, but provokes the Creature to instinctive fear and anger. The Creature flees to a life of terror and violence—both given and received—that inevitably rebounds on Frankenstein himself. Vowing to kill his creation, Victor tracks the Creature for years to an Arctic wasteland for a final confrontation.
Feverish and gangrenous, Victor looks as awful as the patchwork Creature, both battered by the years. He's astonished to find the Creature is articulate and literate, and that he has mastered abstract reasoning. The Creature longs for death to end his own emotional and physical suffering, but first he forces Victor to confront the consequences of his actions and to understand—better than he has before—exactly what defines humanity. "Love me, and I will be once again virtuous," the Creature pleads as a child to a parent. But dour Victor is incapable of loving anyone, including himself.
Barbara Fields' long-established play is a wonderful, compassionate, complex, literate and theatrical take on Mary Shelley's classic Frankenstein, retaining ( unlike most movie versions ) the original late-18th-century time period as the Age of Reason not so gently became the Age of Science. Just when you think there's only talk, Fields—and this closet-sized but effective Boho production—surprises viewers with a vigorous physical scene including—yes, it's alive!—the zip-zap moment of animation. Add the rich text and action several remarkable performances, and you have a dark and stormy night out that is thought-provoking, surprisingly moving and satisfying. One ends up feeling the pain of both the man and the "machine."
Two actors each portray Frankenstein and the Creature. Adam Kander and Kevin Cox as the Creature—young and old, respectively—are remarkably well-matched. Atmospheric costumes ( courtesy of Michelle Julazadeh ) and make-up ( by Sam Umstead ) do a lot, but it's their physical work—movement, ratchet-like voice, the total "plastique"—which is impressive and effective, especially by Cox, who shoulders the larger load. The distinction between Clayton Stamper and Buck Zachary is much sharper as the handsome but obsessed young Victor and the worn, self-absorbed old scientist, respectively. Again, the burden is on the older character, who undergoes the greatest emotional journey, and Zachary and Cox feed each other well. Peter Marston Sullivan is the capable director. Scenic designer Stephen M. Genovese provides spare ice floes with a few hidden surprises.
