Danny Boyle’s Olympics - Has he bitten off more than he can chew?

Before the now somewhat ubiquitous Danny Boyle takes the helm at one of the biggest spectacles in the world, it makes sense to reflect on his recent triumph with Frankenstein at The National Theatre. As soon as Boyle was appointed to the Olympic juggernaut I wondered whether a man so fascinated with vulnerability could ever find nuanced expression in a stadium. Don’t get me wrong, 28 Days later was a great mix of the grand (empty London shots) and the messy fates of particular victims (as was Slumdog), however an Olympic sized live performance is another matter.

As his way into theatrical expression and a stepping stone Frankenstein functions very well. Perhaps one of the most renowned morality tales of the Victorian era, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein poses interesting questions. Yet, in a post-modern world of otherness can we still relate to disfigured outsiders being shunned and berated? Sadly, yes we can, which stands more as an indictment to our yet to be perfected attempts at social integration or indeed our endless awkward goldfish curiosity for what looks different.  Suffice to say with his production Boyle does successfully manage to give us the inevitable violent decline of Shelley’s grotesque infant terrible with nuanced specificity amidst truly epic wrap around sets and brooding industrial soundscape.

Yet despite its visceral achievements, it is a flawed show. Sense of place is certainly achieved and the audiences disquieting engagement regularly electrified with loud noises and spectacular lighting blasts. However, the performances of supporting cast lack depth and detail amidst the vast scope of the piece and the exceptional work of it dual leads. Here the piece soars into breath-taking territory. The performance I saw had Johnny Lee Miller as the monster and Benedict Cumberbatch as Victor Frankenstein (they alternate). Although Cumberbatch perhaps finds Frankenstein aristocracy with typecast effortlessness it is Miller’s physical work as the monster that is dazzling, brutal and brilliant. His particular and harrowing physical/emotional journey from embryonic, naked on stage birth to tragic rejection, power struggle and unravelling is virtuosic. The best of human frailty piquantly explored against an enormous, epic theatrical landscape. Perhaps the Olympic Ceremony formula in Boyle’s hands will surprise us yet.