"I Am Monsters"

Or, how to admit we're human.

If you are a writer, or a writer-to-be, or a writer-to-be-again, I have a recommendation for you.

Back in 2019, I saw a fringe theatre production written by and starring Nicholas Vince. The show was based around the stories of the monsters he’s played in his career including, but far from limited to, Hellraiser’s The Chatterer. Professional cinematic monstrousness counterpointed personal experience of feeling monstrous, or ‘other’: childhood jaw surgery, during which his face became unrecognisable and his ability to communicate was cut off; being on the receiving end of the shame of school bullying, and the guilt of not standing up for the even more bullied; discovering his sexuality, then discovering he expressed it differently to other young gay men so was ‘other’ again, all while Thatcher’s Britain raised shame through making it illegal to “promote” homosexuality.

Why am I telling you this now? Because that one-man fringe theatre show has just had its screen premiere and been a true highlight of Frightfest 2023.

Following the same storyline but allowing for an even greater intimacy and directness that the original theatre production, Nick confides directly to the camera and the effect is of an intimate conversation with a deeply articulate, emotionally intelligent friend. His experiences of being cut off from the world (sometimes by the sensory deprivation of a literal mask, sometimes by the sociopolitical world beyond it) are an exploration of what it is to be human as any monster story is, but the conclusion it draws is unusually and articulately direct and shared with the audience. I won’t say what that conclusion is, but it struck me as the emotional equivalent of where Forkbeard Fantasy would walk out of their own films onto the stage: an emotional crossing the celluloid divide.

The monstrous ‘other’ in iconic gothic monster stories incorporated into Nick’s include Frankenstein’s creature attempting to find meaning through connection with his creator, and Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, trying to do the same through reaching out to the girl he has fallen in love with. The unspoken message is that trying to replace true connection with connecting through force is the trap despair can throw humans into: Nick’s own anger turns up in his stories, as does his resilience and ability to acknowledge the potential monster, victim and, fundamentally, the human: that we have agency to choose who we are and who we become. It was very much a story about all of us, how we relate to each other and why we are drawn to tell our stories. Because, in the end, what every monster story is about is the loneliness and wish to connect that drives human beings to communicate our stories: what makes us write, act, film.

For such an honest and personal approach to autobiographical material, it’s even more impressive there is no ‘thumbprint’ here, no ego in the way of relevance or momentum. Each choice of extract and anecdote is worn so lightly it really feels like being confided in by a friend. I’m reminded of Marc Bolan’s quote about warming to stories “where the writer talks to you like a friend”, an image that is a great shorthand for not trying to impress the reader but to serve the story, in the service of your reader/audience. In addition to Nick’s good-humoured, emotionally intelligent narrative and the legendary Graham Humphreys’ poster design (pictured), we are also treated to animated sequences by Nicholas Vince, Dark Rift Entertainment’s Stewart Sparke and model-maker Chris Sparke, plus a Dracula animation by Borley Rectory director and animator Ashley Thorpe, showcasing the same effortlessly stylish attention-to-detail and understanding of the genre that made his 2017 film so atmospheric and beautiful.

As Stephen King said fiction is “the truth inside the lie”; documentaries have an equally counterintuitive path, succeeding or failing on whether they find the emotional truth, translate and channel feelings through facts. As theatre, film, documentary and performance, I Am Monsters! is everything it needs to be. I came out of the screening refreshed and reconnected with what it is to tell a good, true, story. If you’re gearing up the courage to tell yours, and getting used to the idea that your unique artist’s palette of imagination, memory, observations and questions about the world are yours to share, this is the kind of inspiration you need: that encourages you to turn inspiration to perspiration and share that story. As with all good documentaries, you don’t need to know the man, folllow the genre or work in the industry to enjoy this. It illustrates the real reason we tell a story: not to stamp our ego or our version of the world but to ask a damn good question. And most questions humanity asks are am I, or we, alone? When we reach out the way this has the courage to do, the answer is no, we’re absolutely not. And perhaps that is the ultimate happy ending.

I Am Monsters! Will be available later this year from Dark Rift Horror. For festival appearances before then, go to nicholasvince.com. Say Rachel sent you :)

Photo credit: Stewart Sparke