The novella moves through a tight London geography. Jekyll's house at Cavendish Square, with its respectable front and the laboratory at the back, accessed by a separate door on a side-street that opens onto a courtyard. The lawyer Utterson's rooms. The chambers of Sir Danvers Carew, the elderly MP whom Hyde beats to death with a cane in a moonlit Soho lane. The Soho boarding-house where Hyde keeps his second life. The dim back-streets at midnight, gas-lamps glowing through fog. The locked laboratory where the final transformation happens, with the cabinet of chemicals smashed and the suicide note on the table.
For video, the central craft is the transformation itself. There is a clean recipe: hold a single tight close-up of Jekyll's face under wavering candlelight, let one frame ripple through the next, and let bone re-shape under skin while the eye behind it changes its meaning. The novella stages two further transformations almost in passing — Jekyll on a park bench in Regent's Park, watching his own hand turn dark and hairy in his lap; Jekyll alone in the locked laboratory, knowing this is the last. Build a scene library around the transformation: the laboratory by candlelight, the trampled child in a Soho lane at three in the morning, the cane breaking on the body of Carew under a full moon, Hyde slipping through a side-door at dawn, Utterson and Poole breaking down the laboratory door at the end.
Three styles consistently land. Cinematic photoreal in the spirit of high-budget Victorian period drama delivers the prestige look. Painterly oil with chiaroscuro echoes the dark London street paintings of Whistler and the late Pre-Raphaelites. Expressionist black-and-white with hard shadows lands as homage to the silent-era horror genre. Name the style directly in the prompt.