I have always been a fan of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, from my first visit to Whitby as a child, where I stood in the ruins of the Abbey as they towered over the harbour where Dracula first sets foot on English shores. Since those days not only have I read Stoker’s novel but I have also been an avid follower of cinematic interpretations of the novel – from Klaus Kinski’s Nosferatu, through the archetypal Bela Lugosi Dracula, to Christopher Lee’s charming count and Gary Oldman’s disturbing interpretation of the central character in Coppola’s film: countered by Peter Cushing’s hammed up Van Helsing through to Hugh Jackman’s recent be-leathered interpretation of this vampire hunter in the eponymous film.
In fact the tropes and memes promulgated by the novel and its subsequent mythologizing of Dracula are now endemic in our culture and at times it is hard to see the seeds of Stoker’s original in the proliferation of diaphanous negligées and the romanticisation of the central character in the likes of such novels and films as Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire, Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series and the assimilation of vampires into our culture through the unmistakable graphic novel style of such comic characters as Blade. Just as the recent Bond movie tried, and in my opinion, failed to reconcile James Bond, the archetypal misogynist bastard, with the more modern sensibilities of the “Me too” movement, I was curious to see how Leah O’Grady’s interpretation of the novel – with a female Dracula – would seek to address the central character’s uber-patriarchal qualities.
Based on my own youthful experience in radical feminist theatre and having read the likes of Marina Warner’s thoughts on prostitution, I had great empathy for the tag line from the play’s PR “womanhood is the constant practice of pretending” and I was expecting radical and confrontational when in fact last night’s interpretation of the novel and myth of Dracula was far more subtle and undermining. The script stuck relatively closely to Bram Stoker’s original plot with some updated references – I found the structure of the early scene of Jonathan and Mina travelling separately and sharing e-notes particularly effective and illuminating of their relationship. In fact, Gillian Konko’s quiet but compelling portrayal of Mina was the centre around which all the other performances ebbed and flowed. Also, in this pared back production, we were spared gratuitous scenes of blood-sucking and the gory buckets of blood which smear most modern productions and yet again the audience were drawn back to the plot and themes of the original novel exploring the complex interplay of human relationships.
Acting is also the “constant practice of pretending” and all of last night’s cast showed their proficiency in pretence. However, fittingly, for me the stand-out performances were by the female members of the cast. Contrasting the constant quiet thread of Konko’s portrayal of Mina throughout the play was Gracie Oddie-James' beautiful, predatory, prowling Dracula and Macy Stasiak’s good-time girl Lucy – with a laudable northern accent – was like a butterfly burning in Dracula’s brightness, unable to grasp Mina’s cool, calm centre. Clara Wade’s portrayal of Renfield’s insanity was hugely credible, heart-rending and brilliantly physically realised - but I was concerned that those in the audience unfamiliar with the plot of Dracula, if such people exist, may have had insufficient context for this character’s role in the plot.
Last night’s performance was well attended and the audience, predominately undergraduates who clearly were enjoying their peers' performances, were attentive and intrigued by this new view of the Dracula myth. The content warning for the play “Depiction of: needles, blood, death, mental illness. Allusion to: rape, suicide, misogyny, homophobia, self-injurious behaviour” neatly summarizes the themes and sensitivities the play explores and could in fact feature in the headlines of the red tops every day in our modern world. And as these issues are so pertinent it is important - particularly for women and other under-represented people - that we explore, expose and eradicate such things as the misogynist mythology which has grown up round Bram Stoker’s original Dracula character since the novel’s publication in 1897.
Leah O’Grady’s version of Dracula was not only true to Bram Stoker’s original but subtly highlighted the modern relevance of its themes of love, loss and loneliness – emotions all too common in our modern world – and sought to reframe the mythology which has grown up around vampires and address this romanticisation of violence misogyny.