Mary Shelley was onto something when she penned the sci-fi and horror-inspiring novel Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus – namely arrogant men messing with stuff they shouldn’t, stuffing things up for everyone else. That, and we can’t get enough of a poor, persecuted emo ‘monster’ who just wants to be loved.
Her genius has sparked life into a bazillion adaptations since then. Universal Pictures produced eight films, beginning with James Whale’s Frankenstein, followed swiftly by Bride of Frankenstein. Hammer bashed out seven. Andy Warhol and Paul Morrisey made a horny one. There have been straight plays, operas, songs and side quests, like Penny Dreadful, Poor Things or The Bride!
But of all the skewwhiff looks at the source material, re-stitching its decomposing fleshy parts into something else entirely, multi-hyphenate funny man and The Producers mastermind Mel Brooks’ hilarious Young Frankenstein is one of the most genuinely inventive.
An outrageous spoof, co-written with Willy Wonka’s Gene Wilder, Young Frankenstein was so good they made it twice. With the help of book co-writer Thomas Meehan, Brooks adapted his own adaptation into the Tony-nominated 2007 musical that’s currently playing at St Kilda’s Theatre Works.
It’s aliiiiiiivvvvveeeee? Who’s involved?
This riotous new staging, presented near-deliriously by StageBugs Productions, is directed with the madcap energy by Christian Cavallo (Footloose). He casts a game Josh Direen as the preening and puffed-up Dr Frederick Frankenstein, a man so intent on distancing himself from the cadaverous actions of his grandfather Victor, that he insists folks pronounce his surname Fronk-en-steen.
He's about to marry his high society fiancée Elizabeth (Britni Leslie), even if she seems determined to wiggle out of any funny business for reasons that may not be entirely religious, but has to set sail when news comes that he’s inherited Victor’s gothic castle and needs to cross the Ts and dot the Is. So off he pops to Transylvania, a place positively littered with classic monsters from vamps to martini-swigging werewolves.
On arrival at Castle Frankenstein – sorry, Castle Fronkensteen – Frederick meets Igor (Alex Glenk), the grandson of Victor’s henchman who similarly insists on his name being pronounced Eye-gor, but is still very much pro reanimating dead bodies, and housemaid Frau Blücher (Belinda Jenkins). The mere mention of the latter’s name is enough to spook the horses, neighing whenever it’s uttered, whether or not a scene involves their carriage (mostly not).
Frisky Fred also falls for Inga (Juliet Nicholson), the buxom farmer’s girl who Igor puts forward as the reluctant made scientist’s laboratory assistant, a role he only decided to fill after a particularly bumpy horse-and-carriage ride – Blücher!! – gets them up close and personal. But scene-stealing fiancées have a habit of resurfacing when you least expect them…
So does this follow the classic Frankenstein plot?
More or less, but far sillier. With a little nudge from Igor, Inga and Blücher, Fred is soon tumbling down a back passage into Victor’s abandoned lair and flipping the switches.
Of course, things don’t go strictly according to plan, with a squishy brain drop leading to a last-minute swap-in and a new and thoroughly confused monster (Joti Van Carlos Gore). As led by Inspector Kemp (Shannon Foley), the villagers are revolting, and they’re also storming the castle all over again.
Sounds like a hoot?
It really is. When the freshly dug up bones of the show are as goofy as Young Frankenstein, any production has considerable license to get maniacally daft, and if anything goes awry, all the better!
Shout out to the entire ensemble: Ana Kerei Watts, Bryn Monk, Campbell Bonello, Daniel Baker, Georgina Scott, Hanna Harvey, Morgan Dooley Axup and Oliver Palamara for being such glorious sports. Especially those assigned bush-whizzing-by-a-carriage duty. Sometimes it’s the little things that set you off.
Tap-forward choreographer Claire Robinson gives ‘em the ol razzle dazzle, with Leslie, also doubling as costume designer, running with it. A natural born-show-stealer with the lungs to back it up, she’s magnificently bold to behold as the go-getting broad, Elizabeth, with Direen and Jenkins not far behind in the showbiz stakes, and makeup and wigs champ Sienna Coffa vamping everyone up as Cavallo lets them fly free-wheeling.
Set designer Damian Jones keeps things simple, with the swings spinning the caster-mounted building blocks of Castle Frankenstein around like they’re Kylie in her teeny tiny golden hotpants. Lighting designer Jason Bovaird goes large with Hollywood-style spotlights in dazzling green, white and purple that swish and swoop like it’s the 1930s.
Who would love Young Frankenstein?
Goodness knows what gothmother Mary Shelley would make of it, some 200-plus years after she began penning the spooky source material on a dark and stormy night by Lake Geneva at the Villa Diodati.
Movie fans might also think the musical isn’t quite as zingy as the original, but if you’re up for considerably liberal use of innuendo, Monty Python-style absurdity, ridiculous songs delivered with a (mostly) straight face and jokes so corny they could stock a Mexican restaurant with tortillas for years, you’ll be as animated as a stitched-up corpse struck by lightning. It’s ghoulishly good fun.
Young Frankenstein is at Theatre Works until 28 October. Book tickets here.
