Guillermo del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein’ – A Review

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a landmark in literature – the first horror novel, the first science fiction novel, and a work of unparalleled conceit that redefined storytelling narratives. By wrapping her tale in letters recounting conversations with narrators recounting narratives allows the writer a margin of error that leaves them inscrutable. Moreover, it’s the pinnacle of the Nature versus Nurture debate. Victor Frankenstein’s creation has all the ingredients of humanity and grace but is plagued by an otherness that pushes it to the fringes of community and starves it into dehumanization.

We all know the tale as it’s been retread countless times, but fans of Guillermo del Toro have eagerly awaited his particular take on this 200+ year old story. I am happy to report that his fans will be pleased and I can confidently predict that this film will enter in Oscar conversations. The trademark production design victories of del Toro’s career are evident in every frame. This film is gorgeous and achingly human. The tower of Creation is a set piece for the ages – architects and interior designers will see this set many times in the coming years as Elder Goths seek to create unique spaces.

Guillermo del Toro’s use of color to tell stories has always been a stalwart of his productions. The placid greens of The Shape of Water, the tense reds of Crimson Peak, and the childish blues of Pan’s Labyrinth are cinematic shorthand is the same manner one asks for a perfectly balanced “Wes Anderson Shot.” Frankenstein is no different, oscillating between the whites and blues of its icy establishing narrative scenery to the ambers and reds of creation in Victor’s laboratory. The creature, itself, is a strikingly beautiful assemblage of blues, greys, and pallid tans. Juxtaposed against the vibrancy of life, he stalks his scenes like one of the black-and-white Universal monsters of del Toro’s childhood fascination.

The cast is phenomenal. Oscar Isaac volleys between Victor’s confident bravado, eclipsing madness, and mortal vulnerability with the ease of a master. Christoph Waltz‘s Herr Harlander is unsurprisingly captivating, differing from his larger body of work only in his notable lack of menace. Mia Goth surprised me; only knowing her work from Ti West‘s trilogy of exploitation splatter films didn’t give me the best indication of her skills as an actress. Pulling double duty as both Victor’s mother and his sister-in-law, Goth imbues the latter with a fire and a delicacy that pins her to the viewer’s heart.

Then we have Jacob Elordi as the Creature. Suffocated by makeup, prosthetics, and often-dangling ratty black hair, the actor is unrecognizable as the creature. His performance is limited to infantile fragility and monstrous rage yet the actor manages to extricate the humanity in these binary states, affixing himself as the film’s emotional core. Changes from the source material warp his tragic tipping point in ways that, in my personal opinion, undermine the lasting resonance of the novel.

In terms of Guillermo del Toro’s script, I take a lot of umbrage with some of the changes. The Elizabeth story is warped in ways that make it simultaneously less and more tragic than the novel, and Victor’s relationship with the Creature is both expanded and restricted to fit the mood. Everything is in service to del Toro’s vision, which is one of ghastly romance, and fits perfectly into the tapestry he has weaved for us, but oftentimes at the expense of the book’s broader theme. Our Creature is spurned and hunted, yes, but his anguish comes not from his distance to society but rather his immortality. Guillermo del Toro’s Creature is a superhero with strength, cunning, and an uncanny healing factor. He’s Deadpool without the jokes.

The Bride of Frankenstein subplot is streamlined to a brief conversation and Elizabeth’s fate is twisted to better illustrate Victor’s descent into his own monstrosity. The film ends much like the book yet, when put to screen, it has an almost “let’s do the super-mega happy ending” quality that didn’t sit right with me. There is forgiveness and remorse but no finality. A sequel could easily materialize in a scant few years and maybe Elordi might get that red onesie. I sincerely hope not.

The thing that took me the most out of the film, and I’m sure before I illustrate it to ruin your day it was completely singular, is the look of the Creature. He looks great, mind you. It’s truly an achievement. I saw a candid backstage photo of Elordi in the stripped-down version and sent it to a friend with the caption “So, it’s a Tool video?” But when the Creature is shown in his final form, his hair grown wild and his eyes haunted by isolation and remorse, he looks so much like Brad Dourif as Wormtongue from The Lord of the Rings that I wonder why del Toro didn’t just cast him. Seriously, look at them:

I had the same misgivings with Robert Eggers‘s Nosferatu last year; Bill Skarsgård‘s Nosferatu looked so much like Peter Stormare that I couldn’t take him seriously. (I won’t burden your eyes with that but you can look it up.) This version of Frankenstein will be frequently compared to last year’s Nosferatu for good reason: both films spend a lot of time on creating atmospheric dread and romantic tension to the detriment of some viewer experiences. However, I appreciated this film much more than last year’s vampire slog. Guillermo del Toro is a master of world-building, to the point that we often disregard story in lieu of visual ecstasy. We know why we turn on a del Toro film, and he knows, uncompromisingly, what he wants. Another film that came to mind frequently while watching this one, and again this is entirely personal, was 2015’s Victor Frankenstein, starring James McAvoy and Daniel Radcliffe. If you haven’t seen that one, I highly recommend watching it… with plenty of alcohol. It is hilariously awful.

Overall Score: 7.5/10

All this to say that the eagerly-awaited Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is well worth the wait. It is characteristically gorgeous, fantastic in its glory, and fundamentally human. It takes a story that del Toro admittedly loves and makes it his own, for better or worse, but I can’t really imagine him doing it any other way. It works, particularly thanks to the anchoring performances from its core cast, dancing with European opulence through sets that dazzle the eye. It hints at questions that are better outright asks, but maybe that’s the delicate touch of a true auteur to an audience he doesn’t entirely trust. I get the feeling that del Toro knew there would be more eyes on this feature than the films he typically makes for his kindred spirits and adjusted accordingly. It’s still beautiful, grotesque, brimming with agony and ecstasy, and we’re all the better for it.

So, what do you think? If you loved this film, let us know. If you think there are missed opportunities here, what version of Frankenstein would you suggest we watch to get a fuller picture of its ultimate theme? Let us know in the comments below and check back to Nerd Initiative for all of your film, comics, books, streaming, and wrestling news.