After 15 explosive performances - shattered glass, broken tables, and puréed props everywhere - we wrapped one of our most ambitious stage productions yet. FRANKENSTEIN was a beast. We built it, unleashed it, and wrestled with it night after night.

After a tragedy, Dr. Frankenstein sets out to solve humanity’s greatest problem: death. But his new creation threatens to destroy his life’s work, ruin his reputation, and tear his family apart.

Our ensamble performing the opening number.

Building the Revolving Monster

The themes were massive: death, creation, loneliness, god complexes. And staging them? Tough.

We took a big risk with this one. For the first time, we engineered a custom-built revolving stage - made from old truck parts and dozens of wheels. We called it the pizza. A nightmare to build, but a dream to perform on. That circular movement gave the show a visual energy we’d never tapped into before.

Surrounding the rotating “pizza” was a static ring we nicknamed the donut. And that was it - no scenery, no backdrop, no walls. Just a raw, stripped-down arena where the actors, lights, and effects did all the heavy lifting.

Our lighting design aimed to “paint the air,” using layers of smoke and light-up props to create shifting atmospheres in a space with no traditional scenery. The challenge was clear: how do you evoke different locations and times of day with nothing but light? We had to invent a new visual language - color-coding scenes, shaping shadows, and sculpting the air itself to guide the audience through time, space, and emotion.

Adding to the world, the wonderful costumes designed by our producer Chechi Santos - rooted in period pieces but with a modern twist - brought elegance to the show and helped ground it firmly in another time.

Dance as Storytelling

Another first: we brought contemporary dance into the piece - not just for beauty, but for storytelling. Movement was woven throughout, not only in the transitions but inside the scenes themselves. The dance sequences weren’t decorative; they were built to heighten tension, shift perspective, and inject emotion directly into the space. It became another layer of language.

Ari Aisenberg, our movement director, shaped the movement like another monster in the room - echoing the vision, expanding it, and making it breathe.

Smoke, Fire, and Flesh

The technical elements pushed us to new territory. Pyro effects fired toward the audience. Flames rose from trap doors built into the floor. Every cue was crafted to blur the line between spectacle and story - to keep the audience on edge.

But the moment that stayed with everyone came at the end.

We cut every light in the theatre. The room went completely black. The only source of light: a single candle, held by a trembling actress. As she called out for help through prayer, the creature moved through the darkness, silently destroying everyone aboard the ship. A complex choreography unfolded in near-total darkness, with crew members dressed in black guiding shadowy figures across the stage - almost invisible. You could feel the audience breathe tension. Some pulled their feet up from the floor, instinctively reacting to the stark, oppressive dark. It was unsettling. And strangely, it felt very human.

Ariel Holshouser applying makeup effects to the creature (William Castillo).

The Creature Lives

William Castillo brought the creature to life with a kind of terrifying grace. He wasn’t 10 feet tall - but he didn’t need to be. His physical control and his discipline, gave the role real weight. Every movement was deliberate. Every breath had purpose. What he delivered on that stage was a quiet masterclass in presence.

Ariel Holshouser designed the special makeup effects that crafted the creature’s distinctive look - naked, raw, and disturbingly wounded. His work grounded this version of Frankenstein’s creature as a lost, fragile, innocent creation hiding something terrible beneath the surface.

Rewriting a Classic

This was an original adaptation - my script, drawn from Mary Shelley’s novel. And like any first draft, it needed a serious reality check. After our first preview, it was clear: it wasn’t landing. So we made the hard call and cut 40 minutes. What emerged was leaner, sharper, and far more alive - a version of the story that finally hit with the weight and clarity we’d been chasing.

Larissa Maltez posing behind the curtain with the wardrobe rack.

Praise from the Shadows

What the audience said:

“Los últimos 3 minutos me hicieron gritar, llorar y pensar en la vida. Realmente aterrador.”
“William Castillo es espectacular como la creatura. Cada movimiento está pensado. Cada intención se disfruta.”
“Me enorgullece saber que esta obra es salvadoreña. Está realmente espectacular.”
“Nunca pensé que el escenario iba a ser un personaje más.”

Eternal Thanks

To our creative team and our brilliant cast who poured their souls into this madness: Miguel Amador, Bryan Lestrange, Ari Aisenberg, Eli Valdéz, Larissa Maltez, Gabi Rivera, Paolo Salinas, Otto Rivera, William Castillo, Lilibeth Rivas, Regina Cañas, Boris Barraza, Luis Colocho.

To our audience: thank you for jumping at the chance to watch this weird-as-hell show. Thank you for screaming. Thank you for believing. And sorry about that one night we had to stop the show - twice - because the cast got a little too excited and shattered our glass props all over the left audience stalls. Live theatre, right?

This monster is finally at rest. For now.