The story begins in the desolate, frozen north, a realm of ice and shadow where a desperate hunt unfolds. Victor Frankenstein, portrayed with haunting intensity by Oscar Isaac, and his creation, brought to life by Jacob Elordi, relentlessly pursue one another, their fates inextricably linked in a chilling dance of creator and monster.
Guillermo del Toro delivers a gothic masterpiece, a visually stunning adaptation of Mary Shelley’s classic tale. The film immediately plunges the audience into a world of atmospheric dread, hinting at the tragic consequences of ambition and the profound loneliness of existence. A hooded figure, initially obscured, embodies the mystery surrounding the creature, delaying the reveal of Elordi’s striking transformation.
Frankenstein’s narrative unfolds as a confession to a skeptical crew, a tale rooted in a troubled childhood and the devastating loss of his mother. This loss ignites within him an obsessive desire to conquer death, a thirst fueled by the cold disapproval of his father, Charles Dance, who casts a long shadow over his son’s formative years.
Del Toro’s signature visual flair is immediately apparent, a rich tapestry of crimson hues, macabre death masks, and the visceral imagery of life and decay. Every detail, from the opulent period costumes to the chilling trickle of blood, draws the viewer deeper into Frankenstein’s increasingly obsessive world.
Isaac embodies Frankenstein with a captivating blend of arrogance and charm, a brilliant scientist consumed by his own passions. He portrays a man teetering on the brink of madness, yet never losing his magnetic energy, a performance of remarkable nuance and control.
Enter Christoph Waltz as Herr Harlander, a dubious benefactor who provides the means for Frankenstein’s “unholy” experiment. Alongside him, Felix Kammerer portrays Frankenstein’s brother William, and Mia Goth shines as William’s fiancée, Elizabeth, adding layers of both inspiration and distraction to the inventor’s relentless pursuit.
The creation itself is a spectacle of gleeful, passionate horror. Del Toro doesn’t shy away from the gruesome details – body parts strewn across the laboratory, blood splattering across the floor – but elevates the scene with Alexandre Desplat’s whimsical score, creating a strangely beautiful and unsettling tableau.
The film unflinchingly explores the brutality the creature will face, emphasizing a harsh truth: the world will condemn and destroy anything it doesn’t understand. This message is delivered with operatic grandeur, complete with thunderclaps and a soaring chorus accompanying the creature’s miraculous, and terrifying, birth.
Jacob Elordi’s portrayal of the creature is a revelation, defying expectations. He’s not the green-skinned, bolt-necked monster of classic depictions, but a sculpted being, a testament to Frankenstein’s artistic ambition. He embodies a being yearning for connection, desperate for love and understanding.
As the creature escapes, he adopts a brooding, anti-heroic persona, his imposing 6-foot 5-inch frame cloaked in a greatcoat and long hair. Elordi masterfully conveys the creature’s evolving emotions, from childlike curiosity to simmering rage, through subtle shifts in movement and a remarkable range of vocalizations, including a surprising Yorkshire accent.
While the film’s pacing falters slightly towards the end, with some relationships feeling rushed and the dialogue occasionally veering into sentimentality, these minor flaws are easily forgiven. Del Toro’s unwavering commitment to spectacle and emotional depth ultimately triumphs.
At nearly two and a half hours, *Frankenstein* is a lavish and immersive experience, a testament to del Toro’s mastery of gothic storytelling. The film’s true strength lies in the captivating performances of Isaac and Elordi, a dynamic duo who elevate the material to new heights.
This is the *Frankenstein* fans have long awaited: opulent, theatrical, and profoundly moving. A lavish treat for the senses and a haunting exploration of the human condition.
