Review of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994) by Mandy L — 08 Feb 2010

I love the "monster". To be created for no reason at all, to know that you were uselessly tacked on to the living universe without need or niche, to feel hideous skin and know it speaks horrors--this alien pain is unbelievably endearing to me, and I will always be fascinated by the man it destroys.

This adaptation binds tightly to the original text in plot, but lets the best known pop-culture elements skewer it a little. Mary Shelley's original Frankenstein monster is very different from the one we expect to see in old movies and cartoons. It was actually more of an animal or spirit creature, more of a Grendel than a humanoid. But in this film, we get a patchwork person. Though not green with zippers on his face, he is still a more familiar sight.

Dr. Victor Frankenstein is obsessed with smacking together reanimated tissues into a person. We must assume that he figures out how to do this, somehow by the use of amniotic fluid and electric eels (how technical), because he creates a bitter, breathing compendium of people pieces. What I could not stand was that when his experiment was successful and came to life, he dropped it, instead of nurturing his creation like any scientist would. Definitely a "whoops" moment, garnering a begrudging eye roll from me...why make something you know you won't like? Though not the fault of the movie but its source material, this weirdness makes the Doctor a hateful enigma.

So, I wish we got more introspective face time with Robert DeNiro's hatchet-faced "monster" and less time with the despicable character of the doctor (Kenneth Branagh himself, gloriously shirtless). That would have made this a much better film. Branagh should have known the De Niro golden ratio: the more we see of him in a movie, the better the film is.

I wasn't yucked out by Kenneth Branagh's directorial style, which is reminiscent of silent films in driven simplicity and the occasional dip into melodrama.

We get a love story too, but a creepy one--Its hard not to be weirded out by the muddled relationship of Dr. Frankenstein and his woman Elizabeth; she raised as his sister their entire lives until all of a sudden becoming the object of his fevered lust. They talk about their brother/sister relationship throughout, too...Ick.

Of course, horror beats its drum throughout the film, with outrageously shocking and unsettling scenes. Very good, though operatic in excess. I did laugh hysterically at some of the especially ridiculous touches.

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is strikingly similar to The Elephant Man in atmosphere, character development, and themes. Both make you think about how you would treat those malformed men with beautiful souls, and how your actions might determine your true humanity...if humanity is good at all. In these two films, we must wonder.

Not a magnificent film, but affecting and verrry enjoyable.

3.5/5 stars.