The title of this blog post is a little bit of a lie; this was actually the second horror theatre production I’ve seen. However, I completely forgot to blog about the first one, so we’re running with it.
I was never into the theatre growing up. The emphasis was on acting, singing and dancing, and I didn’t have the physical grace to excel at any of those. Even in the mandatory school drama classes, we focused on acting rather than producing or writing. It wasn’t until last year, when I took an advanced creative writing module for my degree, that I finally realised the flexibility and beauty of theatre as an art form. Since then, I’ve waded through the shallows of dramatic production, adapting short stories into screenplays and going to shows that I would otherwise be too intimidated to attend alone, including the Edinburgh Fringe festival. The theatre scene where I live is small, and so I’ve been keeping an eye on the local theatre’s website for anything remotely interesting that comes up, usually tours of musicals and the odd ballet, nothing particularly horrifying, but last month I finally found something that was right up my alley.
Dracula: Mina’s Reckoning is the bloodcurdling classic rewritten through a non-masculine lens. I went in knowing it was slightly altered, the setting changed to 19th-century Aberdeenshire where Bram Stoker lived for several years, the dialogue changed to Doric rather than English, and the tale of Dracula itself wrapped up in the framing device of a women’s asylum, but I thought it would otherwise be a fairly straight-forward retelling of the story.
I was wrong, but in the best way.
I read Dracula itself for the first time a year or so ago. I enjoyed it, taken aback by the epistolary style of the novel, but was left feeling a little let down by the absence of Mina Murray. She tied the characters together, she compiled the journals and articles, and she led the men to Dracula himself, and yet as a character she felt… neglected. Underdeveloped. An afterthought.
Morna Pearson, the writer, strips the novel down to Mina, the most important part of the story, and builds it back up from there. Mina is the main characters, the one we follow all along, the one who develops the most, shaped by the world she inhabits and the situation she finds herself in. The first act follows the novel pretty much faithfully, but the second act is where things go off. I had never considered the implications and ideas she raises but they have consumed me entirely since the play’s standing ovation three nights ago.
Pearson, of course, did not create this masterpiece alone. The cast, all either female or non-binary, are electric, the ultimate force breathing new life into a century-old classic. They give evocative and nimble performances, none more so than Danielle Jam, who plays Mina, and Liz Kettle, our eponymous Dracula. Pearson explains that she shaped the characters around the cast, and they bring so much life to their characters, both in the framing and in the story itself. Maggie Bain’s performance in their dual roles in particular is unparalleled; they slip between the detained asylum patient and the arrogant, misogynistic Dr Seward with so much ease as to be almost scary, down to the tiniest movement of their characters. Jam is a marvellous Mina and I will not be able to read the novel again without hearing her voice as the narrator. As the feared Count, Kettle glided across the stage with ease, bringing chills every time she emerged from the smoke and fog.
The play doesn’t hold back on the horror either, featuring plenty of jump scares and Gothic imagery from the second the curtains open. The staging is built phenomenally well, a static structure that is somehow incredible versatile and transformative, used to the fullest extent. The framing device gave the story a circular narrative, which I love, and yet subverted the usual tragic associations. The actors’ movements, choreographed by Vicki Manderson, flowed so smoothly and naturally as to appear unrehearsed.
If I hadn’t seen it the last night it was showing in my local theatre, I would have gone back every performance to watch it again. It was a truly powerful performance, with the strongest cast and stunning visuals. It was the kind of performance that makes me want to write, just in case I can create something remotely as good as this. It was absolutely stunning, and if you have the chance to see it, please go. You’ll thank me later.
Writing Werewolf 