Those familiar with Mary Shelley’s 1818 classic gothic horror novel “Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus” know that the central creature is nameless — not, as many think, named after his mad scientist creator. Built from various body parts and electric currents, rejected by humanity for the body he did not ask for, he wanders alone with neither a name nor a companion. Featuring trademark whimsical cinematography and standout acting, Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein” loyally and memorably interprets the classic. The latest in a long line of adaptations, del Toro’s film insightfully explores the background of the creator Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) while giving due place to the perspective of the creature (Jacob Elordi).
Inviting comparison to the film “Poor Things,” del Toro’s “Frankenstein” is richly stylized to compelling effect with his signature dark color palette. A swooping score complements long, scenic shots and a whimsical interpretation of the Georgian era. Compared to other adaptations, the film directly follows the structure of the novel. It opens with a violent confrontation between Frankenstein and the creature in 1857, at which point their relationship has fractured: the creature seeks vengeance, and the scientist wants to undo his invention.
At times reminiscent of del Toro’s Oscar-winning film “The Shape of Water,” “Frankenstein” centers on the pseudo-parental relationship between Frankenstein and his creation, offering a compelling character study of the two main characters. More so than other adaptations, the film suggests that the creature has been born into a cycle of familial violence by including flashbacks to Frankenstein’s difficult childhood — including the loss of his mother, played by Mia Goth, while giving birth to his younger brother, which launches his fixation with cheating death. The fact that Goth also plays Elizabeth, the creature’s love interest later in life, is saturated with Freudian undertones. The implication is that “Frankenstein” is about a man unable to cope with the early loss of his mother, who can think of only one way to reclaim a sense of agency: by literally creating new life.
The second half of the film gives the creature a chance to tell his story. By emphasizing his isolation, the film heavily suggests that the true monster is in fact Frankenstein, whose myopic pursuit of besting death condemns the creature to a miserable existence. After his rejection by Frankenstein, the film shows the creature leading a half life of getting close to people before being hurt or hunted. In this interpretation, his soul is pure — yet nobody is willing to look past his physical appearance. Unable to die, he is cursed to a “merciless life,” as he puts it: an unfulfilled, never-ending existence. While this theme, central to the source text, has fallen short in past adaptations, it is the strongest aspect of del Toro’s film. It is impossible not to sympathize with the creature, who has no recourse but to continue a monotonous, solitary, nameless existence.
Elordi’s nuanced performance — the highlight of the film — evocatively portrays the creature’s feeling of isolation that is made clear in the novel. As Shelley wrote, “The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.” Elordi’s doe-like, innocent expression poetically juxtaposes his imposing stature. Impressively, the prosthetics and hulking figure do less of the heavy lifting for the role than Elordi’s acting, even in scenes with no dialogue.
Isaac also gives a fantastic performance as Frankenstein, descending into madness and grappling with his creation. Almost immediately after the monster is born, Victor declares, repulsed, “I never considered what would come after creation. In having reached the edge of the Earth, there was no horizon left.” Goth is equally compelling, her frantic energy a necessary counterweight to Frankenstein’s somberness and naivete.
If parts of the film suffer, it is because the plot at times feels secondary to the character work. While Goth has much to do, her scenes are rushed, and a rapid succession of deaths are not given their tragic due. Regardless, “Frankenstein” is worth a watch. Del Toro convincingly uses the inhuman to meditate on the human condition, and through the character of the creature, ultimately suggests that life is a state of purgatory of which we must make the most. At least, that is what Frankenstein tells his ailing creation: “If death is not to be, then consider this, my son. While you are alive, what recourse do you have but to live?”
