Frankenstein: A Film Review
By: Beth Petrunak
When I heard one of my favorite directors, Guillermo del Toro, would be adapting Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, I knew we were in for a visual masterpiece. Known for his gothic storytelling and elaborate production (and monster!) design, this project was meant for him. As one of my most anticipated releases of the year, I went into the theater with high expectations, made even more unattainable by my love for the original novel.
So, how does this film stand up against the 1818 text? In the spirit of the original novel and Guillermo del Toro’s adaptation, I shall endeavor to look at this through the lens of the two character’s, Frankenstein and his creation. Although I could go on about Frankenstein’s love interest, Elizabeth, as well, in this adaptation she’s more like one of del Toro’s gothic muses, and frankly bears little resemblance to the original character in the novel.
Fair warning, this will contain spoilers for both the film and the novel.
Only Monsters Play God
You would be hard-pressed to find anyone leaving the theater sympathizing with Victor Frankenstein. Oscar Isaac plays the titular character as both a mad genius and a cruel creator. In Part One, Frankenstein showcases his experiments to an academic audience, only to be rejected by his colleagues. Much of Frankenstein’s story is spent recounting the arduous process of creation, which, for the most part, was less important in the novel. Del Toro explores the politics and science of the time in the original character Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz) who acts as Frankenstein’s secretive benefactor. I think this addition to the story works for the film medium, adding more plot-moving dialogue and action to a story that is literally recounted from one character to another for the novel’s entirety.
A significant departure from the original novel comes after the creature’s creation. In the novel, when the creature takes his first breath, Frankenstein cowers in fear. His disgust sours into regret, and in his terror he abandons his creation without a second glance. To me, this is essential to the relationship between Frankenstein and his creature. There was no moment of kindness, of fascination, or interest from the doctor. His creation knows only abandonment from his first moments. In this adaptation, Frankenstein is initially captivated by him, locks him away, and attempts (although rather pathetically) to teach him and learn from him.
This is perhaps where the film fell short. Isaac fails to explore the emotional depths and contradictions of his character. While he thrives as the young scientist, frenzied and impassioned in his pursuit to conquer death, I found the quieter moments of regret, and especially fear, missing from his performance.
There is a scene in particular where Frankenstein is shaving the creature’s hair, who, when left unattended, grasps the blade and cuts himself. The doctor immediately rushes to his side, trying to force him to release the blade. Once he realizes his creation’s strength, Isaac seems to be annoyed or perhaps intimidated rather than truly afraid. He chastises the creature for cutting himself, and when the creature cowers from his touch, Frankenstein laughs at the prospect of such a large thing being afraid of him, yet he shows no fear of his creation. To Frankenstein, his creature is nothing but an overgrown child, and ultimately, a failed experiment.
The Burden of Living
From the moment Jacob Elordi is first revealed as the creature in the film, you can’t help but be enamored by him. Like the novel, the creature is essentially a newborn upon creation. He knows nothing of the world, he can’t speak, and he feels everything strongly. His only way of communicating is with one word, Victor, and he relies on him for everything. Frankenstein feeds him, bathes him, and tries to teach him to communicate. In this departure from the original novel, we grow fond of the creature and his way of interacting with the world, new and without prejudice. Elizabeth (Mia Goth) is enamored with him from the beginning, showing him kindness and affection, and teaches him to say her name. While some may see this an overly romantic interpretation of the novel, it aligns with many of the themes in Shelley’s writing such as family, passion, and loneliness. The creature spends much of the novel beseeching his creator for a companion, and in the film, Elizabeth fills that need.
In Part Two, we hear what happened after Frankenstein abandoned his creation, from the creature’s perspective. Another difference from the novel is that the creature seemingly cannot die. In each near-death encounter, we watch as his body heals and regenerates, despite the efforts of others and his own. A notable part of the book is Victor Frankenstein’s descent into madness after the death of his loved ones. He spends increasingly more time contemplating his mortality and why he should continue living when all those around him have died. However, in del Toro’s adaptation, this theme is carried by the creature. Unable to end his life and drowning under the weight of his loneliness, the film comes to a head as he professes the burden of living a solitary life, and the only one who could possibly bring him comfort is his creator.
The novel ends with the creature coming aboard the ship after Frankenstein has died. The sea captain watches as the creature laments over his creator, begging for absolution, claiming Frankenstein was his final murder. To the captain, he confesses the inner turmoil and despair he has lived with and promises to never again be seen by another man. The creature departs with his final wishes of death, but the film has a much more hopeful ending. The creature can share his peace with Frankenstein while he still lives, and in an emotional scene, Frankenstein offers forgiveness and understanding, even referring to him as his son. The creator passes on having ultimately made peace with his rejected creation, and the creature departs from the ship, his burden finally lifted.
Adaption versus Inspiration
There have been countless films inspired by Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel, from the 1931 Universal Picture's Frankenstein, to Tim Burton’s animated Frankenweenie. There are two more Frankenstein films set to be released in the near future, Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Bride! starring Jessie Buckley and Christian Bale in a Bonnie and Clyde-esque romance and Frankenstein in Romania, starring Sebastian Stan in both the role of Frankenstein and his monster. As recently as 2023, Poor Things made waves with its surrealist reinterpretation of the story. While I have much to say about the changes to the original text, Guillermo del Toro’s veneration for the themes, structure, and gothic storytelling make this by far my favorite adaptation. He follows the format, setting, and plot of the novel with a closeness that is not achieved by other films. And for all the changes he does make, he makes it a point to keep the heart of Mary Shelley’s story at the center of it all.
He said in an interview with the Los Angeles Times that he saw this film as a biography, and he read the book as personal to Mary Shelley’s life. He calls it his “duty” to put himself in the narrative in such a brutal way as Shelley did in order to create a faithful adaptation. These changes to the original plot, such as Victor’s abusive father and his time spent with his creature before rejecting him, all reflect del Toro’s relationship with fatherhood, generational trauma, and forgiveness. With this reverence for the original text combined with the intimacy of personal narrative, Guillermo del Toro creates a truly unique Frankenstein.
