By George & Josh Bate
Over 200 years since its initial publication, Mary Shelley’s seminal novel Frankenstein continues to undergo innumerable adaptations and reinventions. The source material may be centuries old, but the appeal of Shelley’s Gothic science-fiction horror tale and its exploration of creation and grief remain as relevant and resonant as ever. For nearly 20 years, renowned filmmaker Guillermo del Toro has tried to reanimate and breathe new life into Frankenstein’s monster, finally culminating in a feature film to be released in theaters and on Netflix. Given the sheer number of adaptations to come before his, even a filmmaker of del Toro’s prowess faces an uphill battle to justify the creation of yet another Frankenstein movie. However, to the surprise of few, del Toro excels in undertaking this challenge, crafting a sweeping gothic fairy tale that may very well be his magnum opus.
Frankenstein unfolds in two distinct, yet equally enchanting halves that collectively tell the story of Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) and his creation (Jacob Elordi). The first half follows Isaac’s extraordinary and arrogant scientist as he attempts to conquer death by creating own person, while the second half follows Elordi’s creature in the aftermath of his creation. A prelude that opens the film sees Victor and, eventually, the Creature chronicle their stories to a captain (Lars Mikkelsen), whose ship is stuck in the ice. In establishing such a structure for his narrative, del Toro imbues the film with the energy and almost mystical quality of a fairy tale. Isaac and Elordo spew poetic dialogue, often a hybrid of Shelley’s original words and del Toro’s own, as they recount to Mikkelsen’s captain (and, in turn, the audience) a tale that captivates, thrills, and, eventually, genuinely moves us emotionally, capped off with lessons that, like a fairy tale, hold enduringly true.
Frankenstein takes great liberties with Mary Shelley’s text that somehow enrich these timeless lessons and themes, rather than dilute their meaning. As evidenced by the prelude and in the preceding film, del Toro is disinterested in adapting Shelley’s novel word-for-word, marking his film with plenty of narrative omissions and additions. However, del Toro uncannily replicates, and perhaps even elevates, Shelley’s exploration of the creation of life, responsibility, grief, and more. He does so by crafting a screenplay that zooms in on Victor Frankenstein and The Creature – almost serving as a dual character study. Gone are the book’s changing points-of-view and many side characters, leaving in their place more time to delve deep into the inner-workings (in The Creature’s case, both figuratively and literally) of his two leads. del Toro is far from the first person to remix Shelley’s material, but there arguably has never been a filmmaker that so deftly taps into the subtext and emotion of the original novel the way he does.
The first half intricately examines Victor Frankenstein’s journey, beginning with his childhood and the traumatic loss of his mother. In a move reminiscent of various Dracula adaptations and marking yet another film in which the actress plays two roles, Mia Goth plays Frankenstein’s mother Claire and, eventually, his love interest (and inconveniently for him, soon-to-be sister-in-law) Elizabeth. Backed by a script that succinctly and effectively conveys Frankenstein’s motivations for pursuing the creation of life, Oscar Isaac extraordinarily portrays the unrelenting, almost maddening drive of a man so singular in his objectives and priorities. Everything Frankenstein does is in service of creating life, which, although not explicitly spoken, seems to be a way for the scientist to fill the gaping hole in his heart left when his mother died. When Goth’s Elizabeth enters the fold, Frankenstein sees the precision of his motivations waver, however, as he begins to fall in love with the woman his brother (Felix Kammerer) is engaged to. All of this makes for a compelling drama that taps into how deleterious throwing ourselves into a single pursuit can be, something the novel and other adaptations don’t specifically explore with the depth that del Toro does.
Hindering the otherwise enthralling first half is Isaac’s accent. It’s a testament to Isaac as an actor that, despite delivering lines in an accent all too similar to his goofy English accent from Moon Knight (mixed with shades of Will Ferrell’s Sherlock Holmes from Holmes & Watson), he still delivers a noteworthy performance that nails all the narrative and emotional beats del Toro goes for. del Toro’s directing and writing and Isaac’s inherent charisma and talent only go so far though as Isaac’s accent, on several occasions, takes one out of the movie given how over-the-top it is. When surrounded by other performers like Goth and Christoph Walz delivering lines in their natural accents, Isaac’s unusual voice stands out all the more glaringly.
Also a rare misstep is the hasty evolution of Victor Frankenstein’s attitudes toward his creation. If given more time, perhaps in a television series, del Toro may have had room to detail Frankenstein’s descent into immorality more naturally, but, as it stands, the film gives Isaac’s character a rather jarring 180 that it fails to properly develop on-screen. Sometimes, the less said about something the better in a film like this, although a few scenes to really flesh out why Frankenstein’s relentless pursuit changed so abruptly and gave way to a man decidedly, and rather overtly, evil would have gone a long way.
This issue speaks to a commonality running through both halves of del Toro’s Frankenstein. The filmmaker makes a bold decision to be less morally ambiguous than Shelley’s novel and various other adaptations. del Toro takes a firm stance on who exactly is the antagonist of this tale, which, to anyone familiar with Frankenstein, will not come as a surprise. However, through careful alterations to the story and characters, del Toro discards the idea of posing questions to the audience of our characters’ moral standings, instead opting to more overtly tell the viewer how good and bad, respectively, the Creature and Victor are.
Ultimately though, the bold decision to subvert some of the story’s moral nuances pays off as it gives far more space for its deeply resonant emotions to seep in. The second half of the film largely shelves Isaac’s Frankenstein and pivots to Elordi’s Creature. In doing so, del Toro and Elordi usher in a profoundly moving part of this story. Elordi easily gives the best performance of his career to date here, which begins with the very first days of the Creature’s newfound life. The Australian actor achieves a remarkable physical performance that immerses the audience into the plight of his character, in turn making the tragedy of his story land even harder. With extraordinary make-up and costume design, Elordi is virtually unrecognizable for parts of the film, but uses these aesthetic tools to his advantage, rather than let them dominate his performance.
As the Creature evolves, so does Elordi’s performance. In what is easily the movie’s most moving thread, the Creature, desperate for connection, begins to help a family from the shadows. The head of this family is a blind man played by David Bradley, who, with relatively little screentime, shines and gives a performance that absolutely should be, but will likely not be, considered for awards. Together, Bradley and Elordi imbue Frankenstein with such heart in a way few films ever achieve.
Given the numerous cinematic portrayals of the Creature beforehand, it is inevitable that Elordi’s performance parallels that of some of his predecessors. In particular, his turn reminded us of Rory Kinnear’s in the Showtime series Penny Dreadful and Christopher Lee’s in the Hammer films. Elordi strikes the balance of poetic and terrifying that Kinnear’s Creature did and fuses this with the tragedy and emptiness of Lee’s portrayal. Despite these parallels, however, Elordi makes the Creature his own, mainly by provoking palpable empathy in the viewer.
The richness of the performances and writing are, as one would expect from del Toro, beautiful filmmaking. The director reteams with cinematographer Dan Laustsen to shape a lavish, picturesque gothic epic only del Toro could have envisioned. The color green, perhaps as a subtle tribute to the archetypal Boris Karloff version of the creature, envelops, but never overwhelms, the film, while gorgeous production design and costumes round out a truly atmospheric film. The October opening of Frankenstein couldn’t be more timely as the film is tailor made for spooky season viewing.
VERDICT: 9/10
It takes real craft to make Mary Shelley’s over 200 year old story of Frankenstein feel fresh after innumerable adaptations and reinventions, but Guillermo del Toro does so with flair and heart. The renowned filmmaker crafts a sweeping gothic fairy tale divided into two distinct, yet equally enchanted halves. The film features plenty of omissions and additions from its source material, but somehow enriches the timeless themes of the novel, rather than dilute their meaning. While various alterations are made to the narrative, del Toro uncannily captures the spirit and themes of the novel in a way few, if any, Frankenstein adaptations have done before. del Toro’s screenplay comes to life with two anchoring performances from Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi. Isaac brilliantly portrays the drive and descent into immorality of Victor Frankenstein, even if his accent is a bit over-the-top and the film speeds through some of his character’s more important developments. Elordi, meanwhile, delivers the best performance of his career to date as he draws on the poetry of Rory Kinnear’s portrayal of the Creature from Penny Dreadful and the emptiness of Christopher Lee’s portrayal from the Hammer films to usher in profound emotion in the film’s second half, bolstered by a small, yet pivotal performance from David Bradley. At 150 minutes, Frankenstein may run a tad too long, but there are far worse things that seeping in the beautiful fusion of Shelley and del Toro’s minds for a while. del Toro has, rightfully so, earned acclaim for the likes of Pan’s Labyrinth, The Shape of Water, Nightmare Alley, and so on, but, for us, Frankenstein may be his magnum opus. A cinematic triumph that proves, in the right hands, reanimating and breathing new life into Frankenstein’s creature will forever be a remarkable feat.