The book is always better, but there are exceptions to that rule. Take the Filigree Theatre’s deep, dark version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a gruesome, sexual Victorian nightmare. It’s gloriously Gothic. A fantastic, fresh view of Robert Louis Stevenson’s timeless tale. Gone are black and white demarcations of “good” and “evil.” Instead, this take revels in the morally gray.
Director Elizabeth V. Newman conducts a tight show, expertly controlling themes from a swoonworthy script. Jeffrey Hatcher’s adaptation keeps the novella’s literary flair. Epistolary moments abound, as characters recite from letters or diaries cribbed directly from the original text. Yet the writer constructs something new from that foundation, jumping off Stevenson’s words to splash Victorian horror tropes all over the stage. Jekyll’s medical background highlights brutal exhibitionist tendencies of public surgical theatres and body-stealing resurrectionists, all manner of human ailment on display. The spectre of Jack the Ripper looms in descriptions of horrific gore (from Hyde’s hands, but also from the so-called healers of the medical trade). Danger quite literally lurks around each corner.
The space at Factory on 5th sets a chilling scene, and that’s not just the A/C talking. Patrick Anthony’s immersive set beckons the audience into a foreboding scene. A doorway overwhelms one corner, red and waiting. Explosive bits of broken walls and jagged brick edges float from the ceiling. Even Maddy Lamb’s costuming adds to the unease, dressing the six-person cast in mirrored shades of black and oxblood.
Gone are black and white demarcations of “good” and “evil.” Instead, this take revels in the morally gray.
That cast includes: Jekyll (Scot Friedman), Elizabeth (Arielle LaGuette), Hyde (Bailey Ellis), Hyde (Molly McKee), Hyde (Mike Ooi), and Hyde (Beau Paul). Yep, four Hydes. Occasionally they step into brief roles, as with McKee’s fastidious butler, or Paul’s delightfully pompous Dr. Carew. But some Hydes always lurk on the edges of the stage, perched like vultures on chairs or leaning against light posts, tense and sneering. None of the Hydes look alike, or like counterpart Jekyll, but their echoed physicality makes each movement menacing.
Each Hyde oozes cruelty. Ellis plays the first turn as the character, grotesque sneer and crouched stance ready to pounce on unsuspecting victims. Ooi’s Hyde draws in chambermaid Elizabeth with a low purr, promising delicious wickedness. McKee builds on that with a boldly confident interpretation, devouring everything in sight. But the best moments are when the Hydes form a Greek chorus of evil, overwhelming Jekyll emotionally and physically, an inescapable black cloud nipping at his heels. The choice to have Hydes ever present adds to the sense of inevitability. Jekyll may have created them to separate himself from man’s innermost primitive urges. But the stage reminds us – they’re always there.
And is Jekyll himself so saintly? Friedman’s casting immediately reassures the audience of his virtue. His face radiates innate goodness, an inherent decency. Jekyll’s entrance speaks to a thoughtful man who cares about doing right – defending the helpless and holding high standards. But maybe all good deeds are selfish. Jekyll’s superiority cracks throughout the play, adding dimension to who, exactly, the monster is here.
Everything clicks together like clockwork: the color palette, the shadows, the sparse but intensely effective staging. Do you long for thrills and chills all year long? Are you interested in parsing out human nature and the soul? Go no further than Filigree’s excellent exploration of evil.
Filigree Theatre presents Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Factory on 5th
Thursdays – Sundays through Feb. 23
This article appears in February 14 • 2025.