“Frankenstein” Review – A Gothic Readaptation of a Literary Classic

Since cinema’s inception, filmmakers have tried to adapt Mary Shelley’s classic gothic novel, “Frankenstein.” An initial adaptation came in 1910, but Frankenstein’s monster reached iconic status through Boris Karloff’s performance in the 1931 version. This visual representation with its flat-topped head, protruding neck bolts and lumbering corpse-like figure has become central to the imagery surrounding the monster.

Considering the iconic status of James Whale’s film, few filmmakers have attempted to deviate and take on the mammoth task of creating their own interpretation of the gothic classic. Guillermo del Toro decided he was up for the challenge, and he did a pretty good job.

Del Toro’s “Frankenstein” follows Victor Frankenstein, a mad scientist, recounting his bold experiment that led to him reanimating his own monstrous creation, who is now hunting him. The film employs Shelley’s original framing device of Frankenstein narrating his tale to a ship captain trapped in Arctic ice, a structure that reinforces the story’s themes of isolation and the consequences of unchecked ambition.

As someone who read the book (middle school feels like forever ago at this point), this is the most textually accurate adaptation I’ve seen. This film, unlike most other “Frankenstein” films, incorporates a much larger portion of the monster’s perspective. By giving substantial screen time to the creature’s journey of self-discovery, rejection and descent into vengeance, del Toro captures the novel’s central tragedy— that the monster becomes the monster not by nature, but through the cruelty and abandonment he experiences. 

I also found it surprising how different del Toro’s depiction of the creature was. The  creature is much more ghastly yet more human than the one we commonly associate with the story. The creature’s design emphasizes the patchwork nature of his construction while maintaining expressive features that convey his emotional torment, making him simultaneously more horrifying and sympathetic than Karloff’s portrayal.

This adaptation is also the grandest of all film versions of the novel. Anyone who has seen the Universal “Frankenstein” films knows they’re shot on small soundstages with compact settings. Del Toro got $120 million and seemingly decided to use every cent on stage design because these set pieces are massive and lush. 

Every scene set in the Arctic looks as cold as it would probably feel, with howling winds and endless white expanses that mirror Frankenstein’s emotional desolation. Frankenstein’s lair feels as over-the-top and zany as his idea, filled with crackling electrical equipment, bubbling chemical vats and Gothic architecture that speaks to both his genius and his hubris. Visually, it feels less gothic than what I’m used to. It feels more fantastical than the dark and grimy aesthetic in the original “Frankenstein.” This shift works in the film’s favor, creating a world that feels mythic and timeless rather than simply horrific.

The film also features amazing costume design. The period costumes ground the story in its 18th century setting and I loved how Frankenstein’s wardrobe, particularly his face covering and long, tattered trench coat, gave him a Gothic hunter aesthetic reminiscent of the visual atmosphere of video games like “Bloodborne”. The attention to detail extends from Frankenstein’s aristocratic wardrobe to the villagers’ practical garments that emphasize the class divide between the educated elite and common people who reject the creature.

The movie has surprisingly some of the best cinematography of the year. It gives off “Barry Lyndon” vibes from the scenes depicting Frankenstein’s childhood, with their use of lighting and carefully composed frames that evoke 18th century paintings. There’s a climactic moment between Frankenstein and the creature  out on the ice that looks amazing, shot in moonlit green and whites. The film might have my favorite closing shot of the year, leaving the audience with a heartbreaking image that perfectly encapsulates the main themes of loneliness.

Performance-wise, Oscar Isaac is fantastic as always. He brings the sense of madness we’re familiar with but also a sense of humanity to the character that previous iterations lack. Isaac’s Frankenstein isn’t just a mad scientist but a man consumed by grief and the arrogance of believing he can transcend death itself. 

This performance most likely will launch Jacob Elordi into Academy Award conversations. He’s absolutely unrecognizable in this role, disappearing completely into the creature’s physicality and emotional range. Even though a certain line in the third act is quite corny (you’ll know when you hear it), he delivers it in such a chilling way that it gets a pass. His arc is my personal highlight of the film with how much humanity he brings to the character. Elordi captures the creature’s evolution from childlike innocence to eloquent rage, making his turn to violence feel like an inevitable tragedy rather than a plot device.

I do think this dragged quite a bit during Frankenstein’s story. “Act One” felt like a full hour and a half by itself. The extended focus on Victor’s childhood, university years and the initial creation might test some viewers’ patience, though it does establish crucial context for understanding his motivations. 

I also found some of the emotion and themes to be a little shallow in places. The film touches on ideas of parental responsibility and the ethics of creation but doesn’t always dig as deeply as it could. The underlying message about parenting and how abandonment and lack of guidance can create monsters out of innocent beings is clearly present throughout, mirroring a trend in a big year for films centering around parenting (see “One Battle After Another”). However, the film sometimes overexplains rather than allowing the audience to come to their own conclusions. The parallel between Frankenstein’s own unloving upbringing and his complete failure as a “parent” to his creation could have been explored more subtly.

Overall, I think this was a very good film and much better than other critics have given it credit for. It’s not my favorite “Frankenstein” film– I still love James Whale’s “Bride of Frankenstein” for its campy brilliance and subversive subtext– and I can see how this more fantastical adaptation would not top the more gothic, queer-coded Universal film for everyone. Still, this is a very interesting version from one of the best fantasy directors working today. 

Del Toro brings his characteristic visual imagination and empathy for outsider characters to create a “Frankenstein” that honors Shelley’s original vision while making it feel fresh and relevant. In an era of reboots and remakes, it’s stimulating to see a filmmaker take real risks with classic material.