Oscar Isaac plays scientist Victor Frankenstein in writer/director Guillermo del Toro’s new take on ‘Frankenstein.’ Critic Dwight Brown likes the cinematography but says the overall film is underwhelming.
Courtesy photo
By Dwight Brown
Contributing Writer
In the end, why is such an overwhelming production an underwhelming experience?
The legend of Frankenstein dates back to the 1818 book by Mary Shelley, a novel that told the story of a mad scientist, Victor Frankenstein, who built a creature from reanimated body parts.
That’s the lure that attracted Thomas Edison’s company to produce a short film of the same name in 1910. However, most horror genre aficionados will point to the 1931 film “Frankenstein,” which starred Boris Karloff as the monster, and was a scary, gothic and haunting production.
Since then, successors have included “Bride of Frankenstein” (1935), satires like Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein” (1974) and British actor/director Kenneth Branagh’s artsy “Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” (1994). There have been more than 50 versions. So, how will a new one break from the pack?
In Oscar-winning writer/director Guillermo del Toro’s (“The Shape of Water”) mind, the strategy is to harp on the creator-created father-son aspects of the legend. Then pour on excess amounts of artful, stagey production elements. Like dousing a small story with lots of perfume.
From the first images of a snowy, freezing Arctic, bombastic music blares. The dazzling cinematography by Dan Lausten, is so obtrusive it should command second billing. That’s the approach. Aesthetics as a sledgehammer, not as subtle assistance. And add in incessant voiceover narration that becomes a crutch.
In 1857, the scientist Victor Frankenstein, played by Oscar Issac, seeks refuge on a boat stuck in the freezing Arctic. He’s hiding from something.
A scared crew and its Scandinavian captain, played by Lars Mikkelsen, shield him. A tall and menacing figure, with brute strength, approaches the vessel not bothered by the ammunition, firepower and manpower thrown its way.
The entity advances. Frankenstein shivers. What’s before him is an enraged creature, played by Jacob Elordi. A freak he created from bits and pieces of humans is out for revenge and to set the story straight. A recollection emerges and it’s hard to believe. It’s filled with blind ambition, a disregard for human life, attempted murder and abandonment.
“My maker told his story … and I will tell you mine.”
For the next 150 minutes, del Toro retells one of the most famous horror narratives of all time. At his film’s core, is a struggle between two adversaries: A callous, narcissistic smart guy and a creature struggling to harness feelings, command its power and go after the guy who done him wrong.
That vindictive spirit is the only plot device that provides momentum. Exploring Frankenstein’s warped childhood is interesting, but not fundamental. Adding in a young brother (played by Felix Kammerer) doesn’t amount to much. Though the brother’s wife (played by Mia Goth) comes in handy as a woman who finds the soft sensitive side of a monster shunned by its maker. It’s a romance that has some staying power.
All is in place for a period drama of operatic proportions. Little of it speaks to the scare factor and action that fans of the genre will expect. Too much talking and fancy scenery.
Not enough movement that’s exhilarating. Except for a battle with wolves, who turn out to be toothy, growling but fuzzy-looking canines that give computer graphics a bad name. The monster gets in some fights, runs from burning buildings, but none of it gets the heart racing, continuously.
The grainy black and white 1931 film left audiences mesmerized by a haunting feeling. That eeriness is absent here.
Isaacs, as Frankenstein, seems more like a frustrated misunderstood painter than the villain he needed to be. Goth as the love interest may be the most perfectly cast in the film.
Sensitve, sweet, caring. Charles Dance as Victor’s harsh dad and Christoph Waltz as a benefactor are both suitable but dispensable. This film’s visual spectacle is impressive. Wish the same attention to detail had been channeled to the horror and action elements.
The kind that genre fans (teens, adolescents, 20 somethings) expect. This Frankenstein, a stagey adult art film, is underwhelming, a movie that will leave some as cold as the Arctic.
Dwight Brown is the film critic for the National Newspaper Publishers Association’s News Wire.
