By Ash Cottrell
There are very few plays I’ve seen in my lifetime that inspire an overwhelming desire for a second viewing. Cruel Britannia: After Frankenstein is an example of a play and performance that I wanted to relive almost immediately after. This was primarily because I felt there was so much more to unpack and discover in the dramatic reveals, (both big and small) that occurred throughout. In short, the production incited the desire to know more and to delve further -inarguably a desired outcome.
It’s always a bit of fun going to see a production at the Arts Centre and we were privileged enough last Thursday evening to see this performance in an exclusive space, The Show Room. By contrast, outside the confines of the theatre, Melbourne city was chaos with roadworks and construction causing mayhem on the Centre’s outskirts. I’m always pleasantly surprised when a production has the power to transcend whatever else is going on and transport the audience to another world.
Cruel Britannia: After Frankenstein was an eighty-minute production written and performed almost flawlessly by Kristen Smyth. Directed by Cohan and Produced by Ben Anderson, this story delved into the psyche of Frank/Ruby a profoundly impactful protagonist that took us on a journey through the subconscious, memory, trauma and Thatcher’s complicated and volitile1980s England. For me, this show was, This Is England, meets Kiss of the Spider Woman and encapsulated an endless slew of colourful and tormented characters, all played impeccably by Kristen Smyth. I find that one-person shows always run the risk of alienating the audience if the performance or story isn’t strong enough but that couldn’t be further from the truth here.
I’ve always loved the dark, prophetic story of, Frankenstein so this performance had me at the alluring title. An inspired reimagining of Mary Shelley’s gothic tale, the production was at its most terrifying, violent and at its most vulnerable, heartbreaking. Smyth embodied the pain and history of homophobia, transphobia and social ostracisation. Her cadence and affect was intriguing and her physicality extraordinarily powerful as she strutted across the stage, amongst exquisite set design by Rachel ‘Stoz’ Stone, supported by the haunting and bold lighting design of Gabriel Bethune that never failed to serve story. The soundscape, by Di Drew, while subtle at times, was haunting and evocative in other moments and ultimately, all the elements culminated to support this impressive performer and her story of feeling deeply alone.
The costume design (Jessamine Moffett) was on point and our protagonist embodied it with flare and ease. Leather, studs, British flags, tassels and fishnets comprised what was an era appropriate and fearless design that commanded presence. The lighting and set design choices were all bold and served story. The soundscape, while subtle at times, was haunting and evocative in other moments. Ultimately, all the elements culminated to support this impressive performer.
Expert direction was evident in the blocking, performance and overall conceptual imagining of the performance which was of course, in part due to the strength of the writing. I tend to enjoy shows where place and time are felt viscerally, while at the same time hinting to the dystopian elements of the era and that was true of this performance as our protagonist led us through a terrifying 1980s British landscape.
At its core, this was a show about identity and the haunting quest to uncover and ultimately set free, what is within. I always enjoy explorations where the protagonist has both an internal and external struggle and the breadth of the writing meant that this story was capable of looking both externally and within for a sense of calm and peace. Bravo to this team of creatives that explored this aspect of the human condition against a visceral backdrop of trauma and pop culture with sensitivity, curiosity and humour.
Image: Mark Gambino
