You don't see many flamboyant, frock-coated philosophers these days, but there are quite a lot of them in Derby. Joseph Wright's eerie, shadow-clad scientists line the walls of the city's art gallery, and the same sharp chiaroscuro enshrouds Uzma Hameed's painterly staging of the Mary Shelley classic.
Other theatres have attempted to stage Frankenstein but failed to bestow it with the gift of life. I recall one particularly ludicrous 7ft-tall naked man prompting pensioners' seats to flip up at York Theatre Royal. But Stephen Edwards' version pays Shelley the compliment of taking her seriously, and Alun Raglan's Creature is at least afforded the dignity of a loincloth.
This isn't to suggest that Hameed's production is without its share of spine-freezing and stomach-turning moments. But it maintains a spirit of rational enquiry faithful to the book, which feels startlingly prescient in the week of Christopher Reeve's death. Could stem cell research have saved Superman, at the risk of giving birth to monsters?
Though reasonably taut, Edwards' text is prone to some of the flaws that afflict all adaptations - certain scenes feel unnaturally compressed while the overall result is determinedly long. But Ferdy Roberts' Victor treads a fascinating line between tousled-haired charm and monomaniacal madness. And Sarah Wildor's willowy Elizabeth is particularly impressive, given that she has little to do but wring her hands in despair; the accomplishment of her gestural language is testament to her former career as a principal with the Royal Ballet.
Jon Bausor's towering gothic design is full of twisting staircases and chandeliers (suggestive of spirals of DNA) etched out with lighting by Lucy Carter that is, quite literally, electrifying. This Frankenstein is a persuasive composite of high-tech staging and old-fashioned melodrama, so carefully fused you can barely see the bolt through its neck.
· Until October 30. Box office: 01332 363275.
