Dracula offers dark humor with its gore
Theatrical productions of Dracula are a sure sign that autumn and Halloween are upon us. The famed vampire tale is playing now through Nov. 2 at the downtown Baltimore location of the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company (CSC).
The production, adapted by Steven Dietz, mingles the bloody Bram Stoker novel of 1897 with its 1927 adaptation for Broadway, which starred Bela Lugosi.
It has its fair share of gore (stakes through the heart) and vomitus (Scott Alan Small’s crazed Renfield adheres to a ghoulish version of the Keto diet), but hey, it’s Dracula. Front row patrons are warned of the slight chance of “blood” splatter.
Before the curtain rises, ensemble actor Tim Neil appears on stage, strumming a guitar. He is eventually joined by most of the cast, banging a drum and slapping clapsticks, performing songs like “Devil Side” (by Foxes), “Sympathy for the Devil” (by The Rolling Stones), “Hunger” (by Florence and the Machine), and “The Ghost Who Walks” (by Karen Elson).
The musicians also play during the 15-minute intermission. While enjoyable, these interludes may affect the audience’s ability to suspend its disbelief during the play.
Does it impact the play’s tone when sweet Lucy, near death a moment ago, belts out “Alligator” by Of Monsters and Men?
Playing for laughs
The dark humor of the play is established in the first scene, when the aforementioned Neil, doing his best slumped-over Igor impression, serves Renfield wine before the latter’s brief monologue.
The scene is meant to provide the audience with a glimpse into Renfield’s fractured mind, but there’s a comic edge to the proceedings. Are we to laugh or be disturbed? It’s a question one ponders throughout the production.
Take, for example, a scene in which Lucy (Nina Marti) is visited by Dracula (Michael P. Sullivan) in the form of a wolf. While the blazing red eyes that shine through a curtain herald a rising horror, the scene devolves into absurdity with the appearance of an oversized wolf’s head (requiring two actors to handle) that seems more suitable for a children’s play.
Sullivan himself sometimes plays his role for laughs, if the audience’s reaction was any indication, as he cheerfully describes his new home in London (“I like it here!”). Though Sullivan’s height and girth make him an imposing figure, he lacks the sensuality and passion one expects in the play’s titular role.
Production pros and cons
Dracula is also plagued by pacing issues. Scenes occur on two different levels, requiring actors to ascend and descend a tight circular staircase. There are awkward pauses to allow actors time to get up and down the stairs.
Further, the scenes when Harker (Obinna Nwachukwu) and Dr. Seward (Terrance Fleming) undergo blood transfusions are too drawn out and played too much for horror. The loudest screams in the play come from Seward and Harker as a needle is plunged into their veins by Professor Van Helsing (Stephen Patrick Martin).
Shining brightest on the stage is Hannah Kelly’s Mina, who proves to be the true hero, using her connection to Dracula to bring the bloodsucker down.
Small’s performance as the lunatic patient Renfield deserves kudos as well, as he is the most physically active on stage, bounding about, raving one moment, philosophizing the next, and coughing up a rat bone or two.
Costume designer Kristina Lambdin deserves credit for the interesting “plague doctor”-style costumes of Dr. Seward’s asylum staff, Dracula’s royal garments, and Van Helsing’s garb.
Dracula lunges for the jugular but occasionally strikes the funny bone. In a world of Freddie Kruegers and Jasons, not to mention real-life monsters such as Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer, it’s a challenge to work up much angst about a guy in a cape and plastic fangs, but then again, ‘tis the season.
Dracula runs through Nov. 2 at the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company, 7 S. Calvert St., Baltimore. Performances are on Sundays at 2 p.m., Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., and Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m.
Tickets, ranging from $17 to $49, may be purchased online at ChesapeakeShakespeare.com or by calling (410) 244-8570. No senior discounts.