Don’t ask me to explain the title of Frankenstein 1930. Yes, it’s based on the 1931 film. But 1930? There’s a joke here I’m not getting — which is fitting, I suppose, since clearly I’m a little out-of-step with what playwright Fred Carmichael and Long Beach Playhouse are going for.
You know the story: Victor Frankenstein (David Vaillancourt) is a doctor with a God complex. And no wonder: he’s on the cusp of bringing a stitched-together hodgepodge of cadaver parts to life. His obsession is alienating him from his fiancée (Adriana Catanzarite), leaving an opening for his best friend (Daniel Hastey). Of course, no Frankenstein redux would be complete without the little hunchbacked lab assistant (Sean Wellengard), the monster itself (Charlie Spencer), and a gaggle of fearful townsfolk.
If I ever saw Frankenstein in its entirety, I don’t recall it well enough to know whether it qualifies as unintentional camp by today’s standards (as many films of the era do); but Carmichael seems to be playing that angle. At least there’s no doubting that’s where director David Scaglione’s heart is — and he’s smart enough to play Carmichael’s text in earnest, rather than winking at the audience. As Dr. Hellstrom, Frankenstein’s mentor, J.D. Rinde excels here. “He recognizes you!” marvels Hellstrom. “He knows you created him. […] He’s looking to you for guidance!” The artificiality of the exposition is truly droll, and on opening night the audience was fully on board.
Unfortunately, neither script nor production are consistently funny enough for Frankenstein 1930 to fully work as a comedy — which is its best chance for success, because it’s certainly ain’t drama or horror. (Melodrama? Maybe.)
It’s a bit hard to judge the actors, so one-dimensional are the roles they inhabit. (Melodrama? Definitely.) As already noted, J.D. Rinde is great with the little he gets to do. And simply by lamenting “Damn women!” David Vaillancourt gets the first big laugh of the night, so he must be doing something right. As the Frankensteins’ maidservant, McKayla Spence charms us every time she’s on stage. And the bad cockney accents (“Her neck brawk!”) are supposed to be part of the fun, right?
I’m guessing the Playhouse’s staging is also meant to be fun. Rather than putting much effort into creating Frankenstein’s laboratory, Scaglione and company opt for nothing more than a gurney, a curtained recess meant to stand in for a sort of dungeon, and a tiny Tesla ball projection. After the monster frees himself from the dungeon, Frankenstein and Hellstrom conduct a search — which doesn’t take long, as he’s snoring 10 feet away on a step in the audience aisle. Kind of amusing, yeah, but….
Frankenstein 1930 may not be The Munsters, but neither does it much resemble the dark, philosophical novel that is its grandsire. And while I can’t say whether those familiar with the 1931 film are more likely to be amused than annoyed, fans of melodrama may find a lot to like.
Frankenstein 1930 at Long Beach Playhouse
Times: Fri–Sat 8:00 p.m., Sun 2:00 p.m.
The show runs through October 21.
Cost: $20 to $30
Details: (562) 494-1014; LBplayhouse.org
Venue: Long Beach Playhouse, 5021 E. Anaheim St., Long Beach