Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
Part I: Watchful Attendance We are in an old bar. Music plays through the speakers. Good music. Bar music. PRESHOW: As we enter we see that the bar stage i ha f- e a ed The e a a onstage, off to the side, almost in the wings, just sitting there. Eventually a man enters with a clipboard. He busy. He wears a stocking cap of some kind on his head. He tends to the musical instruments, runs a few cables, arranges equipment, puts away unused cables into one of the road cases. He leaves the stage every now and then to retrieve things, or look for things, as needed, often leaving her alone on stage. He might focus a few lights, maybe. Eventually, he does a sound check. And when he does, the woman takes notice of the man. She recognizes him. And can be ie e he fucking eyes. She runs to him and speaks! B he ca hea he a d neither can we. She follows him as he walks off stage, but something keeps her from leaving the age I i e he a ed He c e bac i a d c i e i g through his list. As he does, she follows him, occasionally trying to get his attention. But nothing works. And though WE can see her, HE cannot. When she touches him. He cannot feel her. Defeated, she just sits and watches him work through his pre-show list. Sometimes he runs lines under his breath while he works, and sometimes he briefly works through a moment that needs more polish. She just watches. There is a strange anger in her sadness. CURTAIN Whe i i e a he retrieves a few final things from the wings. Lastly, he enters with a bag and a coat. He checks to see that there are b in the bag. There are. And then he locates a small bottle of bourbon within, pulls it out, uncorks it, sneaks a heavy swallow, and puts it back inside the bag. He throws on his coat, and steps up to the microphone. He gives a quick nod to the back of the house. The music fades and the lights form a look. He smiles, and begins. She watches, and a he ea i da he ha he e i g She dumbfounded. She stares at him, a quiet rage in her eyes. STORYTELLER Good evening everyone! I am your storyteller. A few things I feel you should know before we get started: One, there was no Igor. Two, Victor never said, “It’s alive!” Three, the Mel Brooks film is the best adaptation to date, despite the last two things I just said. Lastly, we tell stories because they teach us that we are not alone in our fear – or in our misery – or in our joy. And, yeah, this story is fictional. But it comes from a place of real pain, real loneliness, real confusion over what it means to be alive. Okay. Let’s … He h
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Let’s get started! He c a hi ha d ge he he g d a hi A he a
a e a b ea h a d begi He a i e di ac ed b he he c sses away from him, not willing to participate.
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Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
Imagine a boat at sea sailing north, through the Arctic, and on that boat is a crew of explorers. Men, who’ve left their loved ones behind for six years, looking for new land, new passage, braving extraordinary conditions in the name of legacy – in the name of glory. Now imagine that boat stuck in the ice. Their survival: questionable. When they – if they break free, do they go home alive … or do they venture on, and … who knows? (He loses his place. She notices. Off script.) Uh, um … I’m sorry, I can’t rem – um … um … (Gives up.) You know what, don’t worry about it, doesn’t matter – we’ll come back to those guys on the boat, they’re not going anywhere, sorry about that. (Moving on. On script.) Sir Isaac Newton once said that he that he felt like a child picking up shells beside the great and unexplored ocean of truth! And let’s, let me put that into perspective for you: the guy that gave us our understanding of gravity felt like he was only on the beach before the sea of absolute knowledge. –In other words, for all his genius, Newton’s feet never even got wet. I wonder where we are now. Or where we think we are now. Nearly a century after Newton, Victor Frankenstein wondered the same thing! Ligh i g a d h de S e hi g d e fee igh He area. And then back at us. Into the mic and off script.
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Um … He looks to the back of the house again. Can I have some lights, please? Um … They give it to him. He parks the mic, steps to the lip of the stage, and shares something with us. We’ll get right back to the story, but I just, I feel I should … I should probably tell you there used to be a musician that used to do this with me, but a few years ago there was an accident, and, she, um … He
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He turns back to us.
Well … to tell you the truth, without her, I’m a little … –sorta like those guys on the boat, I’m a little … stuck. Because, normally, there’d be all this music stuff happening. –Like, uh, like right here, there used to be this big, uh, percussive thing that would happen right after I’d say, “And Victor Frankenstein wondered the same thing!” And she’d – (Demonstrates the sound of her drums.) – or, whatever, and we’d have lift off, you know? –Because we were, this was, we were, this was sort of an act! –And that’s not the word I’m looking for. I mean, I d say all the words, and he d play all these instruments, and sing –Sorta like how the Greek poets used to accompany themselves with music? We sorta did the same thing – only our interpretation was a little, it was a little different, a little percussive, a little electric. And intimate. Almost personal. –Oh! He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a page ripped from a book, and unfolds it. 4
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
This is a quote from Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein – and ... it’s about the book that she wrote: “And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. …It’s several pages speak of many a walk, many a drive, and many a conversation, when I was not alone; and my companion was one who, in this world … I shall never see more.” (He smiles.) Isn’t that something? We used to post that backstage so we’d see it at our places call, and I figured … I just wanted to share that with you. He folds it, and puts it back in his pocke He
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She used to say our job was not just to tell the story, but to wear it – like a coat, or a sweater. Because once it’s just the two of you up there telling it, you feel a little naked. –Sorta like Adam and Eve. And when it’s just one of you…? Duet! Tha the word I’m looking for! (She shakes her head at him. How could he forget that word?) Tha what we were! We were a duet! And I don’t mean to brag, but we were, she was, the two of us, we were, we were pretty damn good! (Laughs at himself, and walks it back a little.) I mean, we made a living out of it – a meager one. But we got to travel! –And we played bars like this one, and theatres mostly – a few music halls though – an opera house once, which was … (She looks as if she wants to correct him. Then, he corrects himself.) Okay, the opera house was technically a fringe festival venue, but that does not change the fact that we still got to play it. And, you know, it’s funny, we told all these stories together over the years, but this one … this one was her favorite. And I never could figure out why. And it was the last one we did before she, um … Anyway. (Smiles. Makes a dumb joke.) She always did love a good ghost story. (She rolls her eyes. She dead a d he STILL e ba a e he He such a fucking NERD.) But the point is: this wasn’t always a solo act. I’m trying to figure out how to do this without her, so, bear with me, ‘cause she – did – a lot: from music to sound effects to atmosphere – vocals. –I even set up all her equipment – well, almost all of it, some of it doesn’t work anymore. (Suddenly concerned, she checks her equipment.) Most of it does – and I set it all up to keep things consistent, I suppose, but there’s a part of me … maybe all of me, that did it out of hope. (That thing actors do when a line in their show is applicable to a real-life moment.) “But hope takes time!” –That’s one of the lines she wrote, you’ll hear it later, all I mean is this: I’ll do my best. But I really, really wish you could’ve heard her sing. (Wrapping it up.) Okay. Thank you. Let’s get started. (Claps his hands together.) –For real this time. He e he ic a d begi agai S confident a little more determined.
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The Frankensteins were one of the most distinguished families in Geneva –that’s in Switzerland, they were Swiss. And they were wealthy. Victor Frankenstein’s father was a man of government – social services of some kind, I think – and his mother devoted her 5
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
life to helping the less fortunate. And together they opened up their home to orphans, they gave them jobs, an education: a chance to survive. Victor was their first born, and for a while, their only. They lived in large house with a great tree presiding over it. And one day Victor’s mother brought home a young girl, a beggar, about Victor’s age, and said, “This is Elizabeth. Her parents are gone. We are her family now.” Okay … Elizabeth and Victor “technically” were brother and sister – “technically” – but not by blood, which is a, uh, a good thing, bec … –They weren’t related, that’s all you need to know. Years later, Victor’s mother gave birth to another son, named William. And Victor had a friend, a close one: Henry Clerval. You know that friend you had growing up that was always somehow always there? That was Henry. Their house was full. Their house was happy. And those are the characters you need to know: Victor’s Mother. William. Henry Clerval. Elizabeth. Victor’s Father. And, of course, Victor. (With special interest.) –Oh! And a little girl: a servant of the Frankensteins … but we’ll get to her a little later. He smiles, and takes a small, silent pause. One summer day … a bolt of lightning struck a tree. He speaks with growing excitement. He likes this part. And Victor’d never seen anything so utterly destroyed. “That force!” he told himself, “That power!” And, “What was behind it!?” (Off script.) –And the, um … drums would … He demonstrates the rhythm she used to make by lightly slapping it out on his thigh. She notices. Eventually she lazily mimics the arm movements of her drum part along with him. He back on script: He started to ask his parents questions they didn’t know how to answer. I mean, they tried, god knows, they tried! But at thirteen Victor was drawn to these, these studies, these scientists, these wild, ancient philosophers with these wild, ancient philosophies! (Off script.) –The drums used to pick up in tempo here. (On script.) Because, let’s face it, the modern philosophers bored the shit out of Victor, because they were all still standing on that beach with Newton, content with whatever the waves were washing up, with whatever god felt like sharing! But Albertus Magnus, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, these guys weren’t on that beach, no, they were in the water, because they were swimming, and Victor wanted to swim too. So, at seventeen-years-old, he was set to depart for the University of Ingolstadt in southern Germany, but His thigh-slapping d
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Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
Days before his departure … the first misfortune of his life occurred. Elizabeth caught scarlet fever. And she was quarantined from – (Off script.) And the musician would start this, um … He taps the tip of the microphone to create a heartbeat rhythm during the following. The woman in the percussion area just watches. On script: Elizabeth was quarantined from the family. And, at first, Victor’s mother yielded, keeping her distance. But Elizabeth’s condition grew worse, and a mother’s worry became her work. She broke the quarantine and sat with young Elizabeth, never leaving her side. Within days, Elizabeth was saved. But her mother was not. She contracted the fever she nursed out of her daughter. And on her death bed, Victor’s mother smiled and said … (MOTHER ice i af aid b i i g ) “My dearest children.” His next mic-thump is joined by the deep boom of a kick-drum: Buh-bumb! This stops him. He steps back from the mic. She steps back away from the kick-drum, astonished that he heard her. Pa e I a ha i g e He e he ic a d c i e She tries to speak to him. We ca hea he a d ei he ca he MOTHER I regret that I am taken from you, happy and loved as I was – He taps it again. No kick-drum. He continues. She puts her foot back on the pedal and waits. MOTHER … and so much love yet to give. I must be cheerful while I have you … He a i agai Agai i i ed b he ic -drum: Buh-bumb! He steps away from his mic, startled Wha he fuck! He a a he e c i a ea b ca He he not there. She watches him, stunned, trying to figure out how he can hear that, but not her voice. He looks at us, laughs at himself, and steps back up to the mic and continues. … and indulge a hope of meeting you in another world. He ab
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STORYTELLER She died calmly. Buh-bumb! He heard it again! He looks at the kick-d She ca be ie e i B h-bumb! He fee ha hi g fee he e hi g ca e ai i ha e i g He g e ff-mic and moves towards the kick-drum. Buh-bumb! He stops, and almost laughs. Off script: Uhhh! … Can I have some lights again, please? 7
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
They give it to him. He takes another step. He takes another, and even looks over the drum set down to the kick drum pedal. Buh-bumb! He turns back to us. He heard it. But he did not see the pedal move. He tries to cover. There’s this joke about time! “The past, the present, and the future, um…” –Aw, hell, I’ll never remember that. (Buh-bumb!) No: “It’ll come back to me.” That’s what she used to tell me to tell myself instead of saying, “l’ll never remember that.” It’ll come back to me. (Buh-bumb! To us.) Do you …? Um … (He looks back at the kick-drum. Then back to us. Smiles.) Never mind. (Crosses back to the mic.) It’s funny how memory works. (On mic, re: his next line.) Shit, where was I? (Off-mic. Off script.) Um … um … uhhh … She tries to pick up the electric guitar, it works. She throws the strap around her shoulder and smiles. She plays it over the rhythm. He hears it, and he remembers. A sad smile wrinkles his face. On mic. Oh! Right. She ca
be ie e He e e bers what this used to feel like when she was there. Back on script. When you’re that close to death, to profound loss, it stops time. Doesn’t it? Your periphery blurs. Your ears close. The normal frequencies of life scramble. And it’s a looong fucking time before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom you saw every day, whose very existence felt a part of your own, can have departed forever. That the bright, warm light from her watchful attendance can be extinguished forever. Victor was new to this sorrow, that all have felt, and all must feel.
The guitar stops. Silence. They buried her. And for the first time, Victor felt a clock on his own life. When Victor arrived in Ingolstadt, he got straight to work, delivering letters of introduction and paying visits to principal professors! Many – The musician puts her guitar down, picks up her djembe, and initiates a new rhythm. He smiles at the memory of it. She smiles at him hearing it. Many of whom lectured him on the questionable philosophers he openly admired! These professors sound ridiculous. He has fun with them. PROFESSOR #1 Good God!
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Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
STORYTELLER one professor said, PROFESSOR #1 Every instant you’ve wasted on those books is entirely lost! PROFESSOR #2 My. Dear. Sir! STORYTELLER another one said, PROFESSOR #2 You’ve burdened your memory with exploded systems and useless names! STORYTELLER All of them singing the same sad tune to Victor: PROFESSORS You must begin your studies entirely anew! Drums drop out. In the clear: STORYTELLER All but one. Now, have you ever had that teacher somewhere in your life that believed in you? Took you seriously? Or inspired you? And-maybe-they-didn’t-even-know-theywere-inspiring-you, or-had-any-impact-whatsoever. But they did. Right? We all need that one person that makes it okay to be our weird, curious selves. And for Victor that person was Monsieur Waldman, whose words in a lecture one night, Victor would never forget: The MUSICIAN establishes a slower, groovier rhythm. WALDMAN
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M. WALDMAN The ancient teachers of this science promised impossibilities, but performed nothing. In the clear: STORYTELLER He was so cool. Drums back in. M. WALDMAN 9
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
The modern teachers promise very little. But as they pore their eyes over the microscope, they indeed perform miracles. Because they penetrate into the recesses of nature, and show how she works in her hiding places. Drum pop. In the clear: STORYTELLER And Victor was RAPT! Drums continue. M. WALDMAN The modern teachers, however, owe a great deal to the indefatigable zeal of their ancient predecessors. –Sure, their practices and many of their beliefs were different. But the labors of genius, however erroneously directed, scarcely ever fail in ultimately turning to the solid advantage of mankind. STORYTELLER Victor’s mind was filling with one thought, one purpose – Pop! A simple heartbeat rhythm on the djembe. VICTOR I will pioneer a new way, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation! Rhythm back in. STORYTELLER But he had questions – of course he did! He was young and curious, ravenous for answers –and here was a man who had them! M. WALDMAN If your wish is to become a true man of exploration, Victor, I should advise you to apply yourself to every branch of natural science. A VICTOR fascination evolves, so does his obsession. STORYTELLER And from that day on the natural sciences became Victor’s sole occupation! When he wasn’t in a lab, he was in a book, when he wasn’t in a book, he was visiting professors, asking questions – and when he ran out of questions they had the answers to, he asked them questions they did have the answers to – mostly just to see their reactions! Was he close to something!? It felt like he was! Was he alone in these thoughts, these ideas he was having about nature, or rather, beyond nature!? No one seemed to talk about it 10
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
the way he thought about it, dreamt about it, so, he stopped asking questions and started experimenting! FOUR YEARS PASS!!! – and the phenomena that attracted Victor most was the structure of the human body, and from whence did the principle of life proceed. –“Where did it come from?” That simple heartbeat rhythm on the djembe again. But to examine the causes of life, you must first understand how it ends. And to do that you have to get close to death. Closer than anyone should. He must observe with watchful attendance the natural decay and corruption of the human body. Music out. Now: cadavers weren’t the most accessible things at the time, believe it or not, and when they were they weren’t cheap. So, men of science often found themselves purchasing their, uhhh … “materials” from grave-robbers, which yielded a better return for everyone involved: the grave robbers did their dirty work so the scientists could do theirs. But Victor didn’t need a middle man. –And he didn’t need to take the bodies, he just wanted to study them. And he preferred to do it all himself, from shovel to scalpel, it was an obsessive process, and an obscene one. The kind of stuff that would make your guts turn. A low note creeps out of her guitar. He witnessed how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted, and how the worm inherited the wonders of the eye and brain. –For months, he examined these things. He could stomach the touch and smell of these things. And then, one day, from the midst of this darkness, a sudden light broke in on him! An idea – a vision – nooo! A dawning. (As if in the presence of God.) He figured it out. Holy shit. He discovered the causation
of life.
And then Victor Frankenstein began the creation of a human being. Music tempo picks up a little. But there was just one problem. All those microscopic parts involved in his task would slow the pace of his work: all those bones and ligaments, muscles and veins –Connecting every piece of the puzzle would take forever! So, he decided to speed things up by changing the scale! Now he would create a being of gigantic stature! That is to say, get this: about eight feet in height! (Overwhelmed by this stat!) EIGHT! FEET! And I, I can’t, I mean, how do I even describe the scale of this project, or the propulsion of ideas and feelings that urged Victor forward like, like, like, like a hurricane!? And, sure, he knew he would make mistakes! Of course he would! He must! But even his mistakes would at 11
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
least lay the foundation of future success! So nooow: “He collected bones from charnel houses, and disturbed, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame.” He was doing it. He was actually doing it. Drums layer in. Letters from home were stacking up, unread and un-responded to. His father worried. Elizabeth worried. Even his friend, Henry Clerval, worried. But Victor was locked into a momentum and they would slow it or distract it – and he was almost there. He was eating less, sleeping less, and working more! But when the leaves of that year withered and fell, his work was finally ready. A crash of thunder, lights shift. Things are more severe now, scarier now. The music roars on. It was on a dreary night of November, that Victor beheld the accomplishments of his toils. He collected the instruments of life around him, that he might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless creature. Thunder. The sound of rain beginning to fall. RAAAIIIN pattered dismally against the panes! And his candle was nearly burnt out – when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light … he saw the dull, yellow eye of the creature … open. And then it breathed. The MUSICIAN exhales easily into her mic, it reverberates all around us. The STORYTELLER throws a partial look at the percussion area, a smile widens across his face as he continues. “My dream. My beautiful dream.” He brought the light closer. Its limbs were in proportion and he had selected them as beautiful, but, “O god,” he thought. “This is anything but beautiful.” VICTOR begins to spiral at the reality of his creation. The creature’s gray skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath! His shriveled complexion – his pale, dead lips – his watery eyes, the same color as the dunwhite sockets in which they were set! Hideous! Revolting! The beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror filled his heart! He screamed and ran out of the room, down the hall, into his bedchamber, and shut the door behind him! A door-slamming pop! VICTOR S e
a e fervor out of the STORYTELLER.
Now, you HAVE to understand! No mortal could support the horror of that countenance! When those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion –It was an abomination! And Victor, not any other man, was its maker! He winced at the sudden, 12
Frankenstein: A Ghost Story by Kyle Hatley with Dana Omar and Joanie Schultz Adapted from Mary Shelley’s novel, DRAFT , . .20
jarring reality of his efforts and clawed at his head! “Wake up!” he thought! “This isn’t real, this isn’t happening!” (A wild conducting of tech events. Off-mic.) Blue bright flashes of lightning cut through the room! Thunder rang out! (Thunder. Lightning. On mic.) He fell to his knees and vomited. “What have I done, what have I done, what have I done?” “You know exactly what you’ve done,” he told himself, “The question is, what are you going to do?” “What am I going to do? What could I do? Kill it? I eigh f c i g feet tall!” “Destroy it,” he told himself. “Destroy it now before it’s too-” Her reverberated breathing returns. He could hear it rising! He could hear it taking its first steps! It was coming! And it was coming for its creator! He looked for an object with which he could defend himself when …The door opened. A footlight rises on the STORYTELLER, casting a large shadow behind him. Now we see them both: the creator and his creation. Its eyes fixed on Victor’s, and it muttered in-ar-ticulate sounds, and reached out it’s hand! –Victor screamed and ran down the stairs, out of the apartment, into the night! The CREATURE shadow fades away. He ran through the streets without any idea where he was going or what he was doing! His whole body shook, his heart thumped in his chest! He stopped in an alley to catch his breath, and hide! And the rain fell on Ingolstadt –as if there were NOTHING WRONG IN THE WORLD!!! The drums stop. The STORYTELLER and he MUSICIAN a e ed He f b ea h i g catch it, a little shaken. And like him, she, too, is stopped by a flood of memories and feelings that telling this story has suddenly roused. He turns back to us, and continues. When the sun came up, Victor saw a carriage coming straight for him. It stopped. And when the door opened, he heard a familiar voice – He
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HENRY My dear Frankenstein! Your father sent me, I hope that’s oh god you look like shit, are you okay? VICTOR Henry? STORYTELLER 13