REVIEW: “Frankenstein” (2025)

(Courtesy IMDb) 

The visionary and skillful Guillermo Del Toro has held a lifelong dream of adapting Mary Shelley’s enduring and haunting novel Frankenstein into a feature film, but with his own distinct spin and ingredients. Given his impressive resume and unique trademarks to date, it makes sense that he would be the right person to introduce the brilliant but complicated Dr. Victor Frankenstein and his monstrous creation to a new generation. Not to mention one that doesn’t hold back on the violent consequences of playing God. 

Reportedly more in line with Shelley's novel than many previous adaptations, this Netflix-produced Frankenstein (which had a limited release in theatres before premiering on the streaming service last week) balances character-driven acts/chapters between Oscar Isaac's Victor and Jacob Elordi's quiet but layered Monster. The narrative (also written for the screen by Del Toro) alternates between Past and Present, with scenes that go back to Victor's childhood and upbringing in the 1850s, as well as what led him to want to create life and "conquer death," before being shunned by his peers and mentors in school for his unorthodox (and shocking) discoveries and experiments. It's fitting that Shelley's novel is subtitled, "The Modern Prometheus," referring to the Greek figure who stole fire from the gods for the world. The prideful and ego-driven Victor is once asked, "Can you contain your fire, or will you burn your hands before you deliver it?" 

Del Toro's visual and skilled filmmaking is on full display, from elaborate and detailed set pieces to spot-on period costumes, art direction, and practical effects galore. Ditto strong lighting and sparks (lots of them, at that.) Guided by Alexandre Desplat's wonderful and dark score, the look of the film recalls the auteur's period horror-drama from 2015, Crimson Peak, while an opening sequence in the Arctic—where the Monster storms through a frozen ship and its stranded crew—makes it clear how intense, graphic, and harsh this variation is, with many grotesque and bloody moments to come. Said crew members (as well as Victor, who later considers his "achievement" as an "unnatural" one) underestimate how strong, powerful, intelligent, and unkillable this creation is. 

The movie takes some liberties, but Del Toro has said to have kept the heart of the novel intact, while presenting a story about fathers and sons. Although he had a mother who represented life and beauty to him, it's clear that Victor had a bitter and strict father figure growing up, later reflecting that same level of abuse and mistreatment as the young scientist descends into madness and regret—and where the haunting and the haunted (sometimes represented through subsequent visions of a dark angel) switch roles. On the other hand, another angelic presence is reflected in the character of Lady Elizabeth (played by Mia Goth), who is engaged to Victor's brother, while Victor instantly forms a secret romance with her, creating more than one possible love triangle in the mix. Her compassion and sympathy (especially towards the Creature) otherwise play an important role in what is also a story about forgiveness, something that many previous adaptations never even touched on. 

I mentioned in my review for Blumhouse's recent take on Universal's Wolf Man (released last January) how Christopher Abbot's makeup, while intriguing, didn't quite live up to what it could've been. With impressive makeup effects and Jacob Elordi's layered performance, the crew of Frankenstein have created a strangely poignant and tragic figure that echoes (if not overpowers) the emotional and psychological aspects of Victor. I was surprised and moved by the Creature's arc, and what he discovers about humanity, including its pain and its joy, its death and its life. (His relationship with David Bradley's blind man in a secluded cottage is especially profound.) Granted, there are some contrary elements to Christian faith, despite some general revelation in the form of references to Adam and Eve, consequences of sins, and other Old Testament stories. Not to mention Elizabeth's aforementioned angelic presence ("My place was never in this world"). The Creature is, after all, the biggest visual and emotional metaphor throughout this incredible and haunting story/adaptation, which begs the question, "Who's the real monster?"