Veronica Couchman/The Mossy Log
About two years ago, I picked up Mary Shelley’s 1818 classic “Frankenstein” on recommendation from a friend. At the time, I would half-jokingly tell people that I was “functionally illiterate.” I say half-jokingly because by that point, I had probably read only one book in high school. I suppose I just did not think I was a book person, whoever that kind of person is supposed to be. Upon starting the novel, I finished it in two days. I recall having a conversation with my mom after the first day where I said to her: “It really is that good.” And yes, it really is that good.
I mention this to capture that “Frankenstein” matters to me. As a piece of media, it has had a great impact on my own life as the novel that got me into reading. When I heard that renowned filmmaker Guillermo del Toro would be adapting the story starring the likes of Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi, I was beyond excited. This excitement only grew when I saw the first trailer. The film was marketed as an epic of gothic horror that finally captures the spirit of Shelley’s novel. However, when I went to watch the film when it debuted on Netflix, on Friday, Nov. 7, I walked away more disappointed than anything.
The film’s greatest sin, above all else, is that it is boring. This is not a critique usually attributed to del Toro — his filmography from “Hellboy” to “The Shape of Water” is often praised for its strange, engaging visuals. Yet, that quality is absent in “Frankenstein.” This is even more surprising when considering that del Toro has long touted the novel “Frankenstein” as a defining influence.
The color palette of this piece is extremely bland throughout. While one might expect a work of gothic horror to be filled with contrast shots and shadows, this film feels simultaneously bright and underlit. Outside of the poor choice of color grading and palette, it is visually uninteresting. It is not as if del Toro has not achieved this effect previously; “Nightmare Alley” from 2021 is filled with striking visuals and dramatic use of lighting to create atmosphere. The same can be said for del Toro’s 2006 “Pan’s Labyrinth.” The movie isn’t entirely devoid of interesting shots — there certainly are some. It is just that these shots only serve to remind the viewer that this movie could look much better than it does.
The film’s use of CGI also lowers its visual quality. While not a problem in and of itself, the film’s constant use of CGI animals and settings — namely in Victor Frankenstein’s lab — comes off as quite jarring. While one might expect a high production budget for a movie with this star power, much of the production here comes off as something from a 2010s TV show a la “Once Upon a Time.”
For example, in one particular sequence, Frankenstein burns down his laboratory and the shots look downright bad. The fire should feel destructive, something that could kill the monster, but instead feels stunningly goofy.
It is not the visual quality alone that dooms the film to mediocrity. Some great films are not shot beautifully, while some gorgeous movies, despite their engaging visuals, are not particularly interesting to watch. But beyond its visuals, this “Frankenstein” adaptation did not leave me with the sense that it had much to say. Again, considering that del Toro has referred to Shelly’s novel as “his Bible,” the lack of commentary or engagement with the source material is somewhat shocking.
What makes the original Frankenstein’s monster so compelling — among a litany of other things — is that he is sympathetic. We can see both the good and the monster in him. He kills people at will, including women and children. Yet he never asked to be created. He exists against his own desires, wishing to be accepted as human but woefully self-aware of his own status as an abomination rather than the perfect being Frankenstein sought. Frankenstein, the doctor, is equally complicated in the original. He is egotistical and cruel to the monster he created, but his actions are also understandable given the context of his grief. He regrets his own prior possession to create life, as his creation now wreaks destruction on the living. The reluctant abomination and the man driven to create it out of ambition to conquer death itself. Both Frankenstein and his monster are shrouded in moral ambiguity, leaving readers unsure of who is truly “good.”
This version of the monster is more or less good; the only violence he commits is when he is directly provoked — acts of self-defense. While this humanization might appeal to some, it makes the character of the monster deeply uninteresting to me. The monster being all good is just as boring as an interpretation where he is all bad.
Similarly, Frankenstein comes off as relatively one-note. He is not a young man filled with ambition and fueled by fear of loss to outwit death, but ultimately destroys his own life. He is kind of just… an asshole. To be clear, the film tells us that Frankenstein is fueled by loss and ambition but it does not come across as his motivation at all. As the age-old adage says, “show, don’t tell.”
Mia Goth’s Elizabeth, who has been completely reimagined from the novel, is also remarkably unimportant. She feels shoehorned in to be a figure of attraction for both Frankenstein and the monster. She is not exactly a major character in the novel. She is just kind of, well, there.
In sum, this movie seems completely uninterested in its characters and content. While one could hardly ask for this film to be a one-to-one replica of the novel, the spirit that it claims to want to preserve seems completely lost.
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