Del Toro’s version of Mary Shelley’s 1818 classic is therefore a narrative of fathers, sons, love, fury, dread, and disillusionment rather than a warning about unchecked scientific ambition.
The glistening red cherry on a multi-layered cake is that this incredibly true story is presented as a symphonic opera with vibrant sound and hues and imposing physical sets.
Frankenstein
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Cast: Oscar Isaac, Jacob Elordi, Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz
Runtime: 150 minutes
Storyline: A brilliant scientist pushes the boundaries of the possible and has to face the consequences
According to del Toro, the symphonic technique “fuses everything – the wardrobe, the set design, and the cinematography.” The tale is advanced by Kate Hawley’s costumes, which make Oscar Isaac’s Victor Frankenstein more like Mick Jagger than a crazy scientist, and Mia Goth’s Elizabeth’s clothing, which showcase her love of the natural world through gossamer wing patterns.
Tamara Deverell’s set design, which includes the Gargantuan ship and Frankenstein’s towering lab, helps to immerse us in this classic story, while Dan Laustsen’s frames capture the colors as well as the wide icy wastes and scorching fires.
With his adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, renowned director Guillermo del Toro returns to the candlelight corridors of Gothic horror, a world he last dabbled with in Crimson Peak (2015). With a star ensemble that includes Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein, Jacob Elordi as the Creature, Mia Goth as Elizabeth, and Christoph Waltz as the patrician patron Henrich Harlander, this time the canvas is larger, shinier, and funded by Netflix. David Bradley, Charles Dance, and Felix Kammerer revolve around them, each contributing nuance to a story that is equal parts spectacle and self-importance.
Tipping its hat to its operatic leanings, Frankenstein opens with a prelude. It is 1857 and on an expedition to the North Pole, a Royal Danish ship, the Horisont, is trapped in ice. As the crew try to free the ship, they see an injured man being chased by another. The crew manage to sink the Creature under the ice and bring the injured man, Frankenstein, on board.
Anderson (Lars Mikkelsen), the ship’s captain, is informed by Frankenstein that the Creature won’t go until it has him. In Part 1: Victor’s Story, Frankenstein continues to narrate his tale. Baron Leopold (Charles Dance), the father of Frankenstein, is a skilled surgeon but distant and violent. Frankenstein seeks to find a way to defeat death after his mother (also portrayed by Goth) passes away while giving birth to his brother, William.
However, in the case of the new “Frankenstein,” Guillermo del Toro’s thirteenth feature film and, by all accounts, the film he was destined to make, the cliché merits more thought than a quick dismissal. This is del Toro’s personal cinematic Unholy Grail, which he has chased since, if not from birth, at least since he first saw James Whale’s iconic 1931 film “Frankenstein.” Growing up in Guadalajara, Mexico, del Toro was seven years old at the time. He read Mary Shelley’s 1818 book “Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus” when he was eleven years old. Frankensteinian tendencies abound in his works, which have elevated him to the status of Hollywood’s top modern horror-fantasist.
The humanity of the monster and the monstrous of the human are subjects that no director is more passionate about. We support a scaly amphibious mutant in “The Shape of Water” (2017) and applaud the death of his persecutor. The only true freak we see in “Nightmare Alley” (2021), which places us amid the deformed members of a traveling circus, is a tall, attractive seducer. Víctor Erice’s “The Spirit of the Beehive” (1973), one of the most covert Frankenstein films ever made, is honored in the magnificent “Pan’s Labyrinth” (2006), a picture that del Toro was destined to make.After seeing the 1931 movie, a six-year-old girl in that brilliant classic thinks the monster is completely, horrifyingly real. She had a strong bond with the young Guillermo, who turned nine the year Eríce’s movie debuted.
Del Toro hasn’t just created another Whale of a story, though. For starters, his “Frankenstein,” which is currently showing in a few theaters and will start streaming on Netflix on November 7th, is two hours and twenty-nine minutes long—enough time to watch the 1931 movie twice and refill a tub of popcorn in between. For example, unlike previous actors who have successfully imitated Elvis Presley, Jacob Elordi, who plays the Creature, is not nearly the Boris Karloff of his time. The Creature, which was previously portrayed as a gloomy green giant, is now a captivating study in sentient marble. He is a tall, lissome, ivory-toned creature with a bald head (at first), dour blue zones on his face and body, and tastefully concealed loins that are presumably just as reanimated as the rest of him.
The film begins in a cold wasteland with a stranded captain dragging a wounded Victor onboard before Victor’s invention launches a vicious attack. From there, the movie follows Victor’s transformation from a fixated student to a self-proclaimed god—assembling bodies, teasing immortality, and releasing a creature whose need for connection turns into fury. Guillermo preserves the period backdrop, adjusts character dynamics (William as an adult, Elizabeth refocused), and guides the narrative toward a confrontation between creator and made that occurs faster than you expect.
Guillermo’s eye is still unparalleled. Almost every picture is gallery-ready thanks to Dan Laustsen’s impressionistic frames and Kate Hawley’s costumes, while the lab—leaf-strewn, fly-buzzing, and alive with crackling energy—is a production design marvel. The film is pushed toward operatic grandeur by Alexandre Desplat’s score, which winds around the images. The Creature’s birth sequence is a thunderclap: zero camp, contemporary muscle, and traditional symbolism.
Jacob’s performance is the lifeblood of the movie. He vanishes into the part, alternating between savage impulse and innocent amazement. The creature’s body sells both his terrifying force and his frailty. Oscar saw Victor’s intense ambition—slick, convincing, and progressively hollowed out—as a result of his “invention” spiral. Elizabeth is intrigued by Mia, particularly when her empathy for the Creature changes their relationship. As Harlander, the velvet-gloved financier who finances talent and ignores the consequences, Christoph is having a great time. Dressed in 19th-century elegance, he walks through scenes with the swagger of a venture capitalist.
