TWO hundred years after its publication, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein still has the power to reflect contemporary fears and anxieties. 

Poor Things, adapted from Alasdair Gray’s 1992 book, is currently box office gold at the cinema with its update of what it means to be human. Production company Imitating the Dog, meanwhile, has approached the gothic sci-fi classic with what it terms a “psychologically thrilling remake.”

The company has form in adapting standards, having previously staged a shot-for-shot recreation of George A Romero’s Night of The Living Dead, and Dracula: The Untold Story. These shows placed multimedia exploration at their heart, to thrilling and memorable effect.

Its latest show draws on the same background but this time co-artistic directors Pete Brooks, Andrew Quick and Simon Wainwright are overambitious.

Staged in a single room, the play entwines parallel narratives: one recreates key scenes from Shelley’s novel, and the other follows a nameless young couple (Georgia-Mae Myers and Nedum Okonyia) as they worry about what it means to bring a child into the world.

Pitched into the middle of a conversation that’s acted out with oblique physical theatre, it takes a while to orientate oneself within the narrative. As the play progresses, and the separate threads start to mirror one another, it poses increasingly intelligent and moral social questions.

To parallel the woman’s pregnancy with the creation of Frankenstein’s monster isn’t particularly original. Yet by being set in a dystopian future, it draws on contemporary debate about the morals of bringing a child into an uncertain world, where the capacity to love has to be matched by the need for moral responsibility and stability.

This lens is widened into social responsibility with a subplot involving a homeless man in the courtyard of the couple’s flat complex. The man’s history is unknown but, the woman argues, society still owes him moral guardianship, in the same way it did to Frankenstein’s monster.

These strands are woven closer and closer together as the play progresses, Hayley Grindle’s simple set design transforming itself through Simon Wainwright’s videos projections. A room with blank surfaces one minute, it becomes the cabin of a ship the next through the presence of buffeting snow, crystallising ice, and crackles of electricity across multiple hidden screens. 

The seamless incorporation of technology means the show always feels more complex than a simple two-hander. Its intellectual curiosity also engages the audience in the psychology of social and moral responsibility. Where it falters is the emotional disconnect from the characters, driven by the sometimes obtuse physical theatre and conversations that are initially devoid of context. 

This makes the production a fascinating splicing of ideas, but one that sadly lacks the power to thrill.

At Leeds Playhouse until February 24, then touring until May 2. For more information see: leedsplayhouse.org.uk.