THEATRE REVIEW:
“DRACULA” at Lamb's Players Theatre
KPBS
AIRDATE: OCTOBER 20, 2000
Like the legendary
vampire himself, the story of Dracula refuses to die. Put a stake through its
heart if you will, but the damn thing just won't go away. Literally thousands
of incarnations have reared their bloody heads in the past century. But this
new version of Bram Stoker's 1897 classic, adapted by Lamb's Players Kerry
Meads and Robert Smyth, goes back to the source for its insightful perspective.
This story is not really
about vampires and werewolves; it's about evil. About how when we sit around
our collective, communal campfire, there's always something out there in the
dark, something unknowable that stabs us with terror. This new Dracula has no
redeeming features; even his purported erudition and sexuality are seriously
underplayed. He assumes a rather minor role, with minimal stage-time. The story
is all about how the individual and the community confront an unthinkable,
inexplicable force of evil. Some turn to science, some to civil law, some to
rational thought and some to religion. And in this retelling, you can't just
invoke the icons; when a cross is held up to the vampire, it's powerless if the
bearer can't back it up with faith.
The theatrical framing
device is a trunk filled with memorabilia: the diaries, letters and crosses
used by the survivors in combating The Horror. Ultimately, in looking back, the
protagonists realize that it was all a shattering, life-changing memory, a tale
to be told that no one else would believe. And so they almost gently return the
items to the trunk at the end, and put their horrific story to bed.
The Lamb's production,
first viewed on Friday the 13th, under a full moon, was frankly terrifying
at times. This is another of the Lambs' minimalist, magical collaborations --
dark, rich, brooding and beautiful. This company trusts its audience to fill in
the gaps, recognize the change of scenes and focus attention solely on the
characters, the situation and the paralyzing fear. Mike Buckley's formidable,
textural castle is coldly foreboding, and Nathan Peirson's lighting does it
wonderfully eerie justice. Deborah Gilmour Smyth has provided an aptly
otherworldly original score, and Jeanne Reith's costumes are just right.
But it's Robert Symth's
sharp-eyed direction and his outstanding ensemble that really merit acclaim.
Never mind that all but two characters speak American instead of British
English, and the two who don't, the count from Transylvania and the Dutch
professor, sound pretty much the same. Trifles. What matters here is the way
the suspense builds, the way we're caught up in the monstrousness of the
experience, how closely the story hews to the original, in language and intent.
In the showiest role,
that of the asylum inmate Renfield, Tom Stephenson has risen to a level of true
artistry. It would have been easy to go over the top, but this Renfield is more
than just crazy; with his finely nuanced performance, Stephenson makes him
sympathetic, too. His layered portrayal of insanity is most masterful when
Renfield tries so desperately to act sane, so that he can be released to head
off disaster. A magnificent moment of theater.
With plenty of goblins
and demons abroad this season (and that doesn't even include the election),
it's the right time to revisit "Dracula." You'll be ghoulishly glad
you did.
©2000 Patté Productions
Inc.