A classic tale transformed into a powerful feminist roar.
Dracula, a story so often adapted in mainstream culture, is revived and given new life on the stage of the Lyric Hammersmith. Directed by Emma Baggott and adapted by Morgan Lloyd Malcolm, this version overtakes the original narrative with a feminist roar, fusing female rage and passionate calls to action into this classic tale.
The original Dracula story puts much emphasis on the theme of fear, which was especially played out through the tragic fate of Lucy, the heroine Mina’s best friend. In the original tale, the female presences were used as instruments for gore and the creation of horror. Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s adaptation, however, transforms this narrative into an angry feminist roar, with unashamedly bold revelations and an urgent call to action. It’s a Dracula story, but it’s not about Dracula at all — it’s about women’s uprising against the fear imposed on them throughout the past hundreds of years.
The production plays heavily on the form of storytelling – the narrative becomes an almost tangible product on stage (through the device of a cassette player) which is being deconstructed, reconstructed, ridiculed, and played with by the ensemble and especially Mina (played by Umi Myers), the narrator on stage. Jonathan (played by Jack Myers), the only male presence on stage, becomes a character who is looked at, told what to do, and oftentimes, ridiculed. Mina takes over the narrative and becomes the storyteller. The narrative thus jumps in and out of the original Dracula story, making the first half feel like The Play That Goes Wrong combined with Dracula, creating an experience of both intentional confusion and comedic sparks.
Umi Myers’ role is essential to the storytelling, and her performance was both passionate and charged. Mei Mac’s presence is also unignorable as Lucy, with full commitment and versatility. Together, they embodied powerful female rage on stage, creating the most exciting moments of the entire show. The ensemble also did a great job fusing comedy into the narrative and creating believable worlds both in and out of the Dracula narrative. The visuals are utterly stunning — the lighting (by Joshie Harriette) and the movement (by Chi-San Howard) create an almost cinematic beauty on stage, constructing breath-taking images from moment to moment.
The production and the narrative, by their nature, are already inherently political and explicit. Yet the ending took this message even further and closed the production with a monologue making an urgent callout directly to the audience. Although powerful, it still remains a question (personally to myself) whether explicit speeches are more transformative and thought-provoking than storytelling itself; whether such a speech at the end strengthens the message of the production, or flattens its potential to create lingering revelation (and horror) in the audiences even after the show.