Review: Frankenstein (Greenwich Theatre)

Review by Justin Williams

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

You can always tell when a company of young performers is genuinely having the time of their lives, and British Youth Music Theatre’s Frankenstein makes that joy absolutely clear. This is a sprawling, ambitious piece which moves through comedy, mime, movement, heightened emotion and some pretty substantial musical theatre storytelling, and, and by the end it is difficult not to feel rather proud of them yourself.

This is not actually Frankenstein’s first encounter with British Youth Music Theatre. Composer Jimmy Jewell and lyricist Nick Stimson originally created the musical for BYMT 21 years ago, developing it over three years before productions at Theatre Royal Plymouth, Barbican Theatre Plymouth and London’s Cochrane Theatre, with the Creature taking its final bow in 2007. Two decades later, BYMT has brought the monster back to life for a new generation, this time with writer Victoria Gimby joining Jewell and Stimson to break the piece apart and rebuild it. Gimby’s contemporary lens retains Mary Shelley’s questions around ambition, responsibility and what it truly means to be human, and there is a real sense of a musical with old bones being given fresh blood.

One of the production’s greatest strengths is its flow, with the evening flying by thanks to writing that has a strong sense of musical theatre tradition behind it. The music is atmospheric and inspired, taking us on huge, cavernous journeys without cumbersome pauses or great chunks of exposition getting in the way, instead barnstorming from one number into the next. There are echoes of Sweeney Todd and Jekyll & Hyde, while moments in Jewell’s score and Stimson’s lyrics feel reminiscent of Sondheim and Wildhorn without ever feeling as though they are simply copying their influences. Rosabella Gregory’s musical direction and orchestrations keep that momentum alive, allowing the score to feel expansive while continually driving the narrative forward.

You could probably play a game of ‘drama-school-by-numbers’ with some of the movement and narrative devices being used, although doing so would be reductive. These are familiar theatrical tools because they work and, more importantly here, they offer an incredible opportunity for these performers to experience first-hand the effect they can have on the narrative and very bone structure of a musical. Sam Wilson-Freeman’s choreography gives the company the chance to explore comedy, restraint, mime, stillness, speed and dynamic movement, with some genuinely beautiful choreographic moments emerging along the way. There is a sense throughout that these young performers are not simply learning songs and scenes, but being handed an entire theatrical vocabulary and encouraged to discover what they can do with it.

Dean Johnson’s direction is evident throughout, from the production’s darkest patches to its most maximalist moments, always appearing more interested in story than style for style’s sake. There is a desire to dig beneath the surface for meaning, message and experience, not only for an audience but for the actors themselves, while the unusual shape of Greenwich Theatre is used to full effect. Characters frequently break through the conventional playing space and enter through the auditorium, never in a pantomime sense, but in a way that reminds us that we are connected to the people inhabiting this story. There is something slightly unsettling about having the safety of that boundary removed and finding ourselves amongst the townspeople rather than simply observing them, and it is difficult to watch the confidence with which the company navigates Johnson’s production without sensing that director and performers have been on quite a journey together.

At the centre of everything is a remarkably strong ensemble, talented both vocally and dramatically, with Eleni Chivers taking on some of the evening’s most demanding material as Victor Frankenstein. Gimby’s writing frequently requires Victor to operate at an enormous emotional pitch, yet Chivers finds layers beneath that intensity, particularly as Victor’s loves turn into losses and the consequences of their choices become unavoidable. Those relationships feel genuinely lived, with moments when Chivers’ voice physically breaks through grief and the auditorium seems to hang upon every fracture; at one point, audible sobbing could be heard amongst the audience around me, testament to just how successfully they had drawn us into Victor’s pain.

Chivers also possesses a beautiful singing voice, which makes the evening’s plentiful microphone and volume leveling problems particularly frustrating. Several significant moments are affected by technical sound issues, including an unfortunate instance towards the end of the piece as well as a metronome sound occasionally playing through scenes , yet Chivers’ professionalism is remarkable as they simply continue without signalling that anything is wrong or allowing the problem to disturb the emotional trajectory of the scene. They handle the glitches with such assurance that there are moments when you find yourself wondering whether you imagined the issue at all. Matthew Bugg’s sound design otherwise has the considerable task of supporting a large company and an eclectic musical score, making these occasional interruptions all the more noticeable when they occur.

As Elizabeth, Catherine Lewis brings a brittle grace to some of the evening’s most delicate moments, frequently having to hold the emotional centre while everything around her threatens to fracture. Some of Lewis’ strongest work comes in the production’s most silent passages, where her stillness proves every bit as captivating as her singing, before a voice of considerable beauty takes over in some of the musical’s important plot-driving moments. There is something reminiscent of the great sweeping dramatic passages of The Phantom of the Opera in these sequences, while the combination of Lewis and Chivers’ voices creates a wonderful vocal layering, complementing rather than competing with one another and adding further texture to a relationship in which we genuinely invest.

Freddie Summers’ Creature is an enigmatic force, significantly taller and loftier than much of the company, with Steph Nicholls’ set and costume design wrapping them in ripped clothing and an oversized silhouette that becomes particularly striking when Summers hovers in the darkness beyond the action. Nicholls’ design works in close conversation with Danny Vavrečka’s lighting, particularly around the tightly defined white circle at the centre of the stage, which seems to depict the boundaries within which society and morality have set themselves. It is not lost on us that both the Creature and their maker repeatedly break beyond this space, stepping outside the place where everyone else appears to understand the rules.

Above them, Vavrečka frequently sends an almost omniscient shaft of light through a circular opening in the rig, creating one of the production’s most arresting images. It might be read as the eye of God looking down upon Victor and their creation, morality scrutinising them from above, or perhaps even evolution itself observing what happens when humanity attempts to interfere with its processes. The production wisely never insists upon a single interpretation, allowing the image to sit there while Vavrečka’s cross-lighting, tightly controlled pools and spotlights add further depth and continually isolate characters within the darkness.

For all this darkness, Frankenstein also understands when its audience needs to have some fun, with the courtroom sequence providing one of the evening’s most enjoyable changes of gear. The Judge and their cronies gleefully play the scene for laughs, bringing something of the joyous theatrical exuberance of Half a Sixpence’s ‘Flash, Bang, Wallop!’ to proceedings. What makes the sequence particularly enjoyable is the wealth of little pockets of business richly woven throughout it, with reactions, gestures and tiny character choices constantly appearing across the stage. The audience clearly relishes it too, and the laughter provides exactly the release the production needs before pulling us back towards its darker material, while once again allowing the company to exercise timing, restraint, reaction and the rather difficult art of knowing when not to do something.

Perhaps the strongest impression I took away from the evening was just how clear it was that these performers were having the time of their lives. There was an unmistakable sense of pride in what they had created and, behind that, you could feel the enormous amount of hard work and dedication that must have happened before any of us entered the auditorium. As an educator myself, I found that particularly moving, because every single person who stepped onto that stage appeared engaged, invested and, importantly, supported, with the environment created around them visible in the confidence and commitment with which they performed. The audience, made up no doubt of many friends, families and peers, charged the auditorium with the kind of energy only theatre can create: the laughter was generous, the silences were properly silent and, when the production hurt, people audibly responded.

There will always be individual performances, design choices and technical elements to praise or criticise in any review, although there is another measure of success that feels particularly important here. A group of young performers walked onto the stage at Greenwich Theatre clearly believing that what they had worked incredibly hard to create mattered, and an audience met that belief with enormous warmth and much-deserved standing ovation. For an organisation such as BYMT offering young people the opportunity to experience what creating ambitious musical theatre actually demands, Frankenstein feels like far more than simply putting on a show; it is an opportunity to discover what happens when music, movement, storytelling and collaboration all come together, and watching this company discover that for themselves is rather wonderful.

Frankenstein plays at Greenwich Theatre until 30th August. Tickets from https://britishyouthmusictheatre.org/show/frankenstein/

Photos by Charlie Flint