Guy van Egmond
Bare bones yet unavoidably gripping, Remote Viewing’s take on Frankenstein breathes new life into the familiar tale of bodily experiments and social isolation. Created by director Alessandro Visentin and performer Calvin Petersen, the work was billed as a solo show. However, Petersen proved to be a resourceful actor who used everything in the room--including the audience--to tell Mary Shelley’s gothic tale.
The show opened with Petersen entering as an unnamed protagonist, fleshing out the dark and empty set with a couple of chairs, desk lamps, a sheet and an overhead projector. In his unpacking, he stumbled across Victor Frankenstein’s journal. Taking a second to cycle through potential accents, he launched into Frankenstein’s life.
As the story progressed, Petersen moved between the two lead roles, using handheld lighting and voicework to transition flawlessly between Frankenstein and his creation. Watching the creature grow from bewildered, innocent and mumbling, to grizzled and vengeful against humanity’s hatred was Petersen’s most nuanced performance.
He also returned occasionally in short interludes as the protagonist, offering context and a first-reader's perspective to the story. “Why doesn’t Victor tell anyone what he’s done?” “How long was he sick for?” “How do you get from Geneva to Scotland?” These moments were well timed, letting the story breathe and make it digestible. As someone who has never actually read or watched a Frankenstein in full, this performance was a great abridged introduction. However, the protagonist character was a blank slate and felt out of place: who was he? Where did he come from? And who kept calling his phone? None of these questions were ever answered, leaving the character at odds with the whole.
Petersen also played several other minor roles--but most of these were filled by the audience. We were part of a family portrait, or a travel montage, or simply a light stand. The Studio at BATS is small, so it was slim pickings, but most audience members were happy to come up multiple times over. This was a really interesting basis for the show: to tell the story with the audience, rather than to them. I had an absolute blast--but then, I am a theatre kid at heart.
It was certainly a gamble to build so much of the show's presentation around audience participation. A few people on the night saw this as a chore rather than an opportunity, and—critically—only the usher sat in the front row. Even after an hour of involvement, we all couldn’t shake off the instinct to act as a polite and quiet audience, absorbing Peterson's energy and forcing him to tease out our reactions.
Still, he took so much of this in his stride. Peterson showed himself to be an incredibly adept improv actor, who took any little tidbit and rolled it into his performance. There were a few too many ropes and cables on stage for a flawless run, but the honesty with which he dealt with hitches and hiccups only strengthened our appreciation for him. There was absolutely no fourth wall in the Studio that night, and the relational form of storytelling that emerged felt beautifully timeless.
The show’s momentum faltered slightly towards the end, as the final chapters began to feel repetitive and the show’s conclusion missed its mark. Petersen appeared to snap under some unknown pressure, lashing out at the audience members that he had on stage, then apologised profusely and rattled through the story’s final scenes. Leaving the room, he finally answered his phone, muttering more apologies to the caller. It was a conclusion that should have been meaningful, but wasn’t. Why tell Frankenstein? Why like this? There was a hint, maybe, of self-reflection on being a solo performer: estranged from one’s family, pulling together life from bits and pieces and other people. Perhaps? The point eludes me.
Regardless, Petersen and Visentin’s Frankenstein was great fun to watch and be a part of, with no prior knowledge needed. Its energetic and engaging design made for a performance that promises to be unique every night. Frankenstein is playing at BATS until December 20th, tickets available here. Please, when you go, sit in the front row!