THEATER REVIEW : ‘JEKYLL, HYDE’ FAILS TO MAKE TRANSITION
The moon was nearly full, the fog thick, two nights ago when San Diego Repertory Theatre unveiled Douglas Jacobs’ new adaptation of “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.”
Although the endless amounts of fog inside the Lyceum Stage were chemically concocted, Czechoslovakian scenographer Ladislav Vychodil’s black-lighted set intensified the night’s chilly mood.
Orange-stringed webbing in a huge, triangulated fragment slashed across the lighting grid. More triangle webs formed ominous dividers between the minimalist, 20-scene set pieces that were quickly placed, twirled for different perspectives, removed and replaced--120 times during Jacobs’ highly kinetic staging. Eerily shadowed white “statuary” glowed like polished bones from the darkened recesses of the stage.
Just to be sure the message was received, a green fluorescent dragon loomed overhead--extraneous and silent, and perhaps one of the many elements of this production pushed to the far side of excess.
Jacobs, who also directed, has been slavishly true to Robert Louis Stevenson’s original tale, so much so that the 19th-Century language tends to overburden the actors, falling away in mushy echoes in the cavernous setting.
“The thorough and primitive duality of man” was Stevenson’s concern. Jekyll’s experimentation was not the maddened activity of a monster-maker, as Hollywood would have us believe. It was the sincere struggle of a man caught in the war between his higher spiritual nature and the dark night of evil intentions that curses every living being and challenges the soul to strengthen its godlike nature by throwing off its lower self.
Despite the terrific images achieved by Vychodil and lighting designer Don Childs, Jacobs’ attempt to reestablish Stevenson’s psychological thesis is foiled by the director’s own good intentions. The stage is a place for letting actors live out a character’s inner battles, the novel a place for long descriptive ventures into the minds of its subjects.
Jacobs has failed to make the transition. He relies too much on Stevenson’s lengthy prose.
Despite valiant and ambitious efforts on the part of actors, designers and various combat, dance and gymnastics coaches, Jekyll’s story never becomes immediate the way it needs to be for a live performance. It is padded by Stevenson’s framing devices--a narrative voice (visually portrayed by actor Sabin Epstein), the lawyer Gabriel John Utterson (Ollie Nash), and scenes thick with layers of actors reading endless letters and sealed statements.
There are plenty of visual fascinations in this production, however. The very best come in the second act, when Jacobs, faithful to the original, slows down his too-rapid changes of scene (we never have time to settle, to absorb character and image) long enough to let Jekyll tell his own story.
Rex Rabold is waxen with fear and driven duality as Jekyll, while Michael Lewis works his chill-inducing wickedness as the devilish Mr. Hyde. With every sip of chemical concoction-- and ultimately without--the two grapple and claw in a carefully choreographed dance of transformation, an ingenious and much more dramatically satisfying alternative to monster-movie effects. This is the crux of Stevenson’s nightmare-inspired discourse--it should come an hour sooner in this adaptation, which lasts more than 2 1/2 hours.
Other powerful images are the visual re-creation of Utterson’s repetitive nightmare, the darkly clothed chorus that joins in the fight for control of Jekyll’s consciousness like layers of obsessing entities, the below-stage placement of Utterson’s office that places Nash in flickering candlelight, occasionally adding his own voice as he “reads” Jekyll’s confessions.
The cast is thick with the best of the Rep’s resident and visiting actors, supplying a richness of talent that is sadly underused.
The horror flick musical score supplied by the Moonburns (Burnham Joiner, Jim Mooney, Linda Vickerman) is to the ears as the copious chemical fog is to the lungs--overdone on both counts to the point of physical irritation. Mary Gibson’s period costumes evoke the dreary Victorian repression that brings on Jekyll’s final, fatal lapse.
This “Jekyll & Hyde” is dense with possibilities, but so fearfully restricted to its source that Jacobs’ and Vychodil’s contributions are more cosmetic than illuminating. Literary fans will love the language, television addicts may appreciate the quick-snip scenes, but theatergoers will no doubt long to see--not hear--what this Dr. Jekyll feels.
“THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL & MR. HYDE”
By Robert Louis Stevenson. Adapted and directed by Douglas Jacobs. Scenography by Ladislav Vychodil. Lighting by Don Childs. Original music composition by Burnham Joiner, Jim Mooney, Linda Vickerman. Costumes by Mary Gibson. Combat choreography, Christopher Villa. Gymnastic consultant, Deborah Lenz. Psychological movement consultant, Judith Greer Essex. Dramaturge, Jeff Smith. With Jennifer Atassi, Kathie Danger, Terry Eaton, Sabin Epstein, Kate Frank, Amy Herzberg, W. Dennis Hunt, Michael Lewis, James C. Manley, Don R. McManus, Barbara Murray, Ollie Nash, Luis Oropeza, Rex Rabold, JoAnn Reeves. Tuesdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 and 7 p.m., through Nov. 8 at the Lyceum Theatre, Horton Plaza, San Diego. Produced by San Diego Repertory Theatre.
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