For years, Hollywood has found itself in a constant struggle to revive classic monsters reminiscent of the silent era, Universal Monsters, and Hammer Films. Despite significantly higher budgets and more available resources, the 2010s saw numerous misfires with The Wolfman, I, Frankenstein, Dracula Untold, and The Mummy; movies that came across as hollow studio-mandated corporate creations, designed to provide barebones consumption with little to no sincerity behind them. Moreover, many of these projects completely missed the mark of what made movies like Nosferatu, Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, The Wolf Man, and Creature from the Black Lagoon so special, films that, while not necessarily scary by today’s standards, remain deeply endearing to this day thanks to not only their entertainment value but also the passionate craftsmanship on display and the emotional depth behind their storytelling.
Despite this grievance, there was a turn for the better in 2017 with Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water, a dark fairy tale that’s a loving tribute to old-school monster flicks, taking cues from Creature from the Black Lagoon, while still maintaining its own artistic identity, with exceptional talent behind it. Fast forward to the 2020s, and we’d have a similar case when Robert Eggers graced audiences with Nosferatu, a disturbing yet nevertheless marvelous reimagining of the groundbreaking F.W. Murnau classic that restores the vampire to its Gothic roots while also expanding the material of the original, itself an unofficial adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Recently, visionary del Toro has yet again delivered another solid reimagining of a classic monster story with his new film, Frankenstein.
Based on Mary Shelley’s 1818 Gothic sci-fi novel Frankenstein, also titled The Modern Prometheus, a film adaptation of the story of unchecked ambition would be a decades-long dream for Guillermo del Toro. He had previously attempted to make his dream a reality through Universal, with Doug Jones envisioned to play the Creature and Bernie Wrightson as the monster designer. Ultimately, it fell through following the studio’s prominent failure with their planned Dark Universe and the poor reception of The Mummy. It wouldn’t be until 2023 that Netflix revived the production, allowing del Toro to finally create his passion project, though with some changes from the original plan. Jacob Elordi would assume the role of the Creature instead of Jones. Though Wrightson unfortunately passed away in 2017, the director would still honor his legacy by having Bernie Wrightson’s Frankenstein serve as a primary influence on the film’s art direction. Frankenstein would have a strong premiere at the 82nd Venice International Film Festival, and would generally be well received by critics and audiences following its limited theatrical run and subsequent release on Netflix.
Set in the 1800s, a Royal Danish Navy ship, the Horisont, is trapped in the ice at the North Pole. Captain Anderson and his men witness an explosion in the distance and come across a gravely injured man named Victor Frankenstein. Not only that, he’s being stalked by a humanoid Creature who launches a brutal attack on the crew and demands they surrender him, but the men manage to escape. While being cared for, Victor tells his story about his past and what led to this, revealing himself to be a brilliant yet egotistical scientist. Following his traumatic childhood and motivated to uncover life’s mysteries, he embarked on an ambitious experiment to create new life, resulting in a monstrous being that came with devastating consequences. That creation is the Creature that pursues them, who, upon catching up to the ship to confront his creator, reveals his side of the story.
Watching this, it’s very clear that Guillermo del Toro has been sitting on this project for a long time. Structurally, it opens with a compelling teaser, an intense prelude that plunges viewers into pure chaos, leaving the audience wondering what events led to these circumstances. Then comes the deep dive, exploring both sides of the same coin amidst the disarray, revealing Victor and the Creature’s stories and who they are and what led to their unfortunate undoing. With his poetic script and lavish direction, del Toro skillfully handles the scale and emotional weight of this grand journey, heightening the drama the film has to offer.
Though this version is not entirely textually accurate, taking major liberties, such as reimagining some of the characters, Frankenstein remains faithful to the spirit of Mary Shelley’s timeless story. In particular, it excels in its thematic identity and handling of those themes. Victor Frankenstein’s rise and fall as an ambitious visionary turned self-absorbed scientist who attempts to play God by creating life from death, a “Prometheus” figure, highlights how unchecked ambition and misused technology can have devastating consequences for the creator and everyone involved, both directly and indirectly. Moreover, his actions, which range not just from his ego but also his cruelty and abandonment toward his creation, reveal him to be the real “monster” of the story in contrast to the Creature.
While preserving the spirit of the original story, Guillermo del Toro’s take explores additional themes, including parenthood, generational trauma, and acceptance. There’s a sad and tragic parallel between Victor Frankenstein and the Creature, as both were subjected to a cycle of abuse and neglect at the hands of failing fathers while yearning for love and acceptance. As a child, Victor lost his loving mother, Claire, to illness, and he was abused by his father, Leopold, who prioritized upholding the family legacy over love, all while blatantly favoring his younger brother William, which explains why Victor grew up into the person he became. Moreover, he went on to exhibit similar behaviors to his father with his treatment of the Creature, whom he’d envisioned as the perfect son. When he didn’t live up to his expectations, he would mirror his father’s pattern of trauma and abandonment, becoming the spitting image of his father. These events would ultimately fuel both of their unbridled rage they have. Additionally, del Toro taps into the complex personal, subjective concept of forgiveness as a means for our two leads to find peace rather than succumb to hatred and vengeance.
The Creature, the most sympathetic character in the story, is forced to live a miserable existence, desperately searching for a way to fill the emptiness in his life, at one point even asking Victor to make him a companion. As he continually evolves and adapts to the world around him, he longs for love and companionship, despite Victor and those around him rejecting him for merely existing and treating him as a subhuman abomination. In contrast, two key figures who show him love and acceptance and are also marginalized by society are William’s fiancée, Lady Elizabeth Harlander, and the blind man.
Elizabeth showcases female agency through not only her prominent intellect but also her strong independence, regardless of the era’s patriarchal expectations, and she frequently challenges Victor’s coldness and insensitivity, all while he desperately tries to seduce her. Upon seeing the Creature, she’s initially fascinated by his miraculous existence, but soon forms a genuine, empathetic bond with him, showing him kindness and developing maternal love. The blind man, whom the Creature befriends later in the story, is similarly neglected, being left alone in the family cottage for long stretches at a time. Understanding what it’s like to be different, he takes him in and befriends him, all while helping him learn how to read and speak fluently. These two compassionate people help shape the Creature’s understanding of reality and serve as positive influences in his life, highlighting that, while flawed, the world still contains humanity.
Adding to the core themes, the film is chock-full of poetic, Catholic-inspired symbolism and Christian imagery, woven in a way that enhances the story’s meaning in an artistic, universally appreciable way, regardless of the viewer’s religious background. Examples include the Creature being brought to life, posed in a crucified manner, the outfits Elizabeth dons that highlight her as a holy figure, and the angle Victor envisions, which becomes progressively more horrific. There’s also the Creature being a Christ-like figure, referred to as the “New Adam,” only to be abandoned by his creator; Victor’s actions of playing God being downright sinful; and the aforementioned theme of forgiveness.
Each actor is committed to their role and how they interact with one another. Oscar Isaac excels in his portrayal of Victor Frankenstein, capturing his brilliance and eccentricity, and his eventual, more monstrous qualities, until he eventually becomes a broken-down man. Jacob Elordi gives a powerful performance as the Creature, stealing every scene he’s in, balancing menace and vulnerability to make him scary when he needs to be but also sympathetic in plenty of other moments.
Mia Goth marvelously conveys wonder and affection as Lady Elizabeth Harlander, a believable, loving motherly figure to the Creature and a foil to Victor’s massive ego. Though Victor’s late mother, Claire, appears only briefly, Goth does well with that role as well, praise that also applies to Charles Dance, who plays Leopold, the protagonist’s cold-hearted father. David Bradley brings an endearing warmth as the blind man who welcomes the Creature into his life. Felix Kammerer is fittingly more nuanced as William, contrasting his brother, Victor’s, madness. Lars Mikkelsen remains collective as Captain Anderson as he tries to understand the conflict between the creator and his creation while looking out for his crew.
If there is a fault in the script, it’s that Henrich Harlander could have used more development. He’s introduced as Elizabeth’s uncle and a wealthy arms manufacturer who takes an interest in Victor’s work and decides to help fund his experiment. However, the reveal of his terminal illness and plan to achieve immortality by transferring his brain into the Creature feels rushed and underdeveloped. A rewrite could have strengthened Harlander’s role in the narrative and made his death more impactful. On the flip side, Christoph Waltz still makes the best of his limited material.
As with any of Guillermo del Toro’s films, he infuses his work with a visual richness that here retains the Gothic roots of Mary Shelley’s story. From the costumes to the incredible set pieces to the gorgeous landscapes, all captured through Dan Lausten’s polished cinematography, Frankenstein is a visual triumph. Praise must also go to the make-up for the Creature, along with his striking design. It’s also nice to see many practical effects on display in an age dominated by digital effects. There are even some surprisingly well-choreographed fight scenes, the opening action sequence in the North Pole being exceptionally well executed while also downright brutal. One area of the production that is a mixed bag is the CGI, which varies from visually pleasing, with the touch-ups to some of the locations, to noticeably awkward, as with the wolves. However, Alexandre Desplat’s music score is consistently beautiful, coupled with some excellent sound design, such as the Creature’s chilling roar.
Even with some changes from the source material, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a great reimagining of the classic cautionary tale of unchecked scientific ambition that’s chilling and bittersweet. As a film, it manages to highlight human nature’s monstrous capacity while also shining a light on the compassion individuals are capable of. It’s endearing to see an artist’s vision realized, delivering as entertainment that is visually beautiful and emotionally powerful.
