In the two hundred (and five) years since Mary Shelley jolted to life her eponymous mad scientist and his monster and set them loose, Frankenstein has invaded just about every cross-section of culture. Motion pictures, of course. And literature. Sitcoms and cereal. And, based on the late Liam Scarlett’s production of the romantic novelist’s tale, now "Frankenstein" has found the stage of the Joffrey Ballet for a beautiful reimagining of the heartbroken doctor and the heartbroken creature he creates, one that embraces Shelley’s gothic 19th century original.

Like recent literary reimaginings by the Joffrey (at its old home at the Auditorium Theater), Anna Karenina and Jane Eyre, the set and stage are beautifully done—scenic and costume design by John McFarlane for the Scarlett production. The Joffrey’s staging—by Kristen McGarrity, Laura Morera, and Lauren Strongin, and Joe Walsh—nicely incorporates the ballet’s “new” and cozier home at the Lyric Opera; while the Auditorium’s scale and gravitas might have added their own touches to such a production, the Lyric and the Joffrey are a great match. Gothic scientific projections—programmed by Troy Fujimura—set the feel (which I guess one could call “steampunk,” but doing so might trivialize the vibe. Yet, it’s not all doom and gloom and bloody surgical theaters here, as we also spend much time in happier, more comfortable days with the Frankenstein family at their estate.

Jose Pablo Castro Cuevas, in the lead role of Victor Frankenstein, nicely straddles these two worlds, as his character grows up in one and longs to go to the next—in the footsteps of his father, Dr. Frankenstein, played by Miguel Angel Blanco—Cuevas’ Victor falls in love with the adopted orphan Elizabeth, played by Amanda Assucena, a favorite in past Nutcracker productions, as well as the title character in Jane Eyre. Cuevas and Assucena make a fine couple, as do Blanco and Anais Bueno, in the role of Alphonse Frankenstein’s wife and Victor’s mother, whose sudden demise gives the story its direction, sending Victor off to medical school determined to reverse death.

But before Victor goes to school and begins to amass the knowledge with which he’ll wreak his timeless monster on our world, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Christine Rocas as the Frankenstein family’s governess and Jeraldine Mendoza (another Joffrey favorite from Nutcrackers past) as her daughter, Justine. Both bring life to their roles, and I couldn’t take my eyes off either.

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention the production’s musical score, by Lowell Liebermann for the original, played by the Lyric Opera Orchestra and conducted by Scott Speck. The music brightens the story when needed, but even more hints at the doom to come, and the gloom always lurking.

And now, on to the anatomy theater at Ingolstadt University, where the doctor creates his monster and where the story creates its mythology, now two centuries old. Devastated by his mother’s death in childbirth, Victor leaves these loved ones (and his newborn baby brother) behind to study medicine. Here, in the same manner he towers over 1893 Chicago each Christmastime for the Joffrey’s Nutcracker as that production’s empresario, Dylan Gutierrez looms over his youthful pupils in the round, the stern and statuesque Professor Waldman.

It is here in the anatomy theatre, fueled by heartbreak, exuberant with youth, and armed with the burgeoning science of the looming industrial revolution, where Victor Frankenstein fashions his monster. The set and pyrotechnics (by Gateway Pyrotechnic Productions) rival the scale in any Hollywood Frankenstein of yore. And the monster, slippery and scarred, is given a grace and humanity many of those silver screen adaptations neglect. Jonathan Dole wonderfully plays the role of the Creature—confused and contorted, a counterfeit creation in a world it can never understand or be understood by. He is there, and then he is gone, and upon his return, we are ready to be horrified, brokenhearted, and amazed by the Joffrey Ballet’s 21st century reimagining of a centuries-old tale of horror, heartbreak, and amazement. See it at the Lyric Opera, now through October 22.