Guillermo del Toro has been telling monster stories for as long as he’s been making films. A romantic with a taste for the macabre, his creations are haunting, poetic, and unforgettable. His earliest love was “Frankenstein” – first the Boris Karloff film, then the novel – which set him on the path to filmmaking.
Don’t expect a by-the-letter adaptation of Mary Shelley’s immortal tale. This “Frankenstein”, on Netflix Nov. 7, is an interpretation from one of our most visionary directors. It isn’t his best, but it overcomes the pitfalls that often doom passion projects.
The film is about stories – about fathers and sons, innocence and monstrosity, and the madness of creation. While both Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) and his creation (Jacob Elordi) tell their sides, del Toro’s sympathies clearly lie with the monster. His creature is stripped of Shelley’s complex intellect and rendered as an innocent driven by primal emotion. Unfortunately, his strength makes every tantrum catastrophic: he skins, tears, and flings victims like rag dolls. It’s grisly but purposeful.
Both creator and creation are victims of their fathers. Their shared mother figure, played in both cases by Mia Goth, underlines the theme perhaps a little too neatly. Isaac’s Victor is brilliant, egotistical, and theatrically mad – an outsider desperate to surpass his father (a menacing Charles Dance) and resurrect his mother. His only tenderness is for his brother William (Felix Kammerer) and William’s fiancée, Elizabeth (Goth), who becomes both muse and moral compass. Goth lends Elizabeth wit and steel, though she’s still saddled with the cliché of nurturing instinct.
Elordi’s creature, meanwhile, is a sensitive soul trapped in a body stitched from tragedy. Victor designs him like a marble Adonis, but the seams and ragged hair betray his unnatural origin. Elordi conveys aching gentleness and sudden fury; his struggle to understand himself drives the second half of the film, a dark coming-of-age story where the monster meets only fear and violence – except from a blind old man (David Bradley) who recognizes his humanity.
The creature’s education becomes both gift and curse as he learns the horror of his existence and the burden of eternal life. Del Toro lays it on thick, but it’s undeniably moving.
Visually, “Frankenstein” is peak del Toro – gothic, romantic, and opulent. Production designer Tamara Deverell builds worlds both lavish and decayed, from Victor’s childhood estate to his eerie laboratory. Kate Hawley’s sumptuous costumes, as impractical as they are stunning, could fill a museum. Alexandre Desplat’s grand, swelling score electrifies every moment.
Everything is larger than life – the visuals, the emotions, the 149-minute runtime. It can feel overstuffed, yet “Frankenstein” pulses with empathy, anguish, and awe. It may not be a masterpiece, but it’s a film with soul – an undeniably beautiful, deeply personal addition to the Frankenstein canon.
[Abridged]
LINDSEY BAHR, MDT/AP Film Writer
“Frankenstein,” a Netflix released in theaters and streaming on Nov. 7, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “bloody violence, grisly images.” Running time: 149 minutes.
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