STC’s ‘Frankenstein’ Dives Deep into Humanity’s Shadows

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein has long haunted readers with its exploration of science, ambition, and monstrosity. In Shakespeare Theatre Company’s current production—now extended through June 29—playwright Emily Burns reimagines the gothic tale as a psychological thriller that leans into the emotional and moral complexities of its central characters, Victor and Elizabeth Frankenstein. The result is a visceral and unsettling evening at the theatre that challenges audience expectations of the familiar story.

Burns, previously known for her sharp adaptations of Macbeth and Much Ado About Nothing, shifts the narrative center of gravity in Frankenstein to give equal, if not greater, weight to Elizabeth Lavenza, traditionally a supporting figure in Shelley’s original novel.

In this retelling, she is given ferocity by Rebecca S’manga Frank, whose performance anchors the production. Frank captures Elizabeth’s endurance and escalating dread as she navigates the psychological fallout of Victor’s relentless scientific pursuit. Nick Westrate brings both vulnerability and arrogance to Victor Frankenstein, a man tormented by his own creation and the isolation it breeds.

As the play unfolds, Burns’s script avoids monster-movie theatrics in favor of a more existential horror—the terror of what it means to create life without understanding its consequences, and what it means to be held responsible for it.

The production’s technical elements are still striking. Scenic design by Andrew Boyce and projections by Elizabeth Barrett frame the action with spare, evocative visuals that keep the audience on edge. Lighting by Neil Austin and sound by André Pluess contribute to a cinematic atmosphere, effectively blurring the line between memory, imagination, and reality.

Burns’ direction leans into the play’s psychological dimension, emphasizing silence and stillness as much as spectacle. When the Creature (Lucas Iverson) finally emerges, it is not as a grotesque horror, but as a mirror held up to the other characters—and to the audience. And this Creature, kept largely at the periphery, is a haunting absence that becomes a potent symbol of grief, guilt, and disconnection.

Overall — it’s just not the Frankenstein you think you know.

At just over two hours with an intermission, this Frankenstein is not a straightforward retelling but a meditation on the cost of creation and the boundaries of love and responsibility. Some viewers may miss the novel’s sweeping settings and classic horror beats, but others will find a powerful and poignant reframing that feels unsettlingly relevant.

STC’s performance of Frankenstein has been extended by popular demand until June 29.