Review of The Bride (1985) by Kevin M. W — 13 Mar 2011

The Gay Icons We Lost in the Lab Explosion.

According to IMDB, it took sixteen days to film Quentin Crisp's part. Quentin Crisp is onscreen for about the first five or ten minutes. I grant you that this is a special effects-intensive five or ten minutes, this is true. On the other hand, there was really no reason for him to have been on the set for most of the filming. Even in most of the long shots, you can't see him. It almost makes me wonder if he was hanging about because he didn't have much else to do. He later told Sting that he looked forward to becoming a US citizen because it would mean he could commit a crime without getting deported. (Leading to "Englishman in New York," one of my favourite Sting songs.) So you figure he had the spare time to contemplate these things, which in turn means he had the spare time to hang about the set, watching Timothy Spall as the Igor-type nearly get killed.

Crisp is Dr. Zahlus, and the Igor-type is Paulus, and they work for Baron Charles Frankenstein (Sting). We come in at what rather feels like the end of the movie. Frankenstein and the others are dashing about, bringing a woman to life as the Monster (Clancy Brown) watches, given she is to be his Bride. But things go awry, and things explode, and Frankenstein barely makes it out of the tower with Jennifer Beals. The Monster escapes, too. Each of the Baron's creations leaves the lab in their own way. The Monster encounters Rinaldo (David Rappaport), a dwarf intent on Budapest and the circus. The dwarf takes the Monster on as a protector and protects him as well, naming the Monster Viktor. Meanwhile, Frankenstein is captured by the extraordinary beauty of Jennifer Beals and decides to create in her the perfect woman, a woman who can love him as he deserves to be loved and be worthy of his own love in return. Each in their own way moves toward independence, which Rinaldo encourages and Frankenstein fears.

Alas, the movie tends to drag a bit when the Pretty People are onscreen. (Cary Elwes even gets a small role as a smug and unpleasant cavalry officer.) It's at least theoretically interesting to watch Eva, as Jennifer Beals gets named, develop into an individual; in part, it's because it's an interesting examination of what being an individual is all about. We know, though she does not, who she is and where she comes from, and it's almost a treatise on the meaning of the Soul. Realistically, Frankenstein doesn't think she has one. He thinks she can be a mirror, reflecting only what he holds up to it. He thinks that, because he is her creator, he owns her. He is taken aback when it turns out that a poem he references is by Keats, as she said, not Shelley, as he did. He thinks he wants an equal, but he wants to be more equal than she is. So much for enlightenment. If it were better written, it would not have just been an opportunity to watch Beals and Sting and Elwes, oh my.

Conversely, the bits with Viktor and Rinaldo are quite enjoyable. Viktor, too, is exploring what it means to be human, but Rinaldo is pleased every time Viktor is able to do something all on his own. Rinaldo is, after all, more than aware of his own physical limitations, and he knows that Viktor will protect him. However, he also knows that Viktor is not terribly bright and not at all worldly, and he knows that he should protect Viktor. The prime difference, I think, is affection over possession. Rinaldo is perfectly aware that he has no ties over Viktor beyond the bonds of friendship, and he doesn't ever attempt to suggest that it is or should be any other way. He has a dream, too, and he shares it with a construct. But "share" is the operative word. He dreams of going to Venice with his friend. While Eva has the chance to see the Wide World without going out into it, Viktor has no choice but to go out into it and see what there is to see and who he will find there.

Of course, there's not much Shelley to be had here outside that one little throwaway reference to her husband. Viktor gets the first name of the original character; the Monster of the book never got a name. Similarly, the eponymous Bride never got life. Victor Frankenstein destroyed her at the very thought of the race of monsters they could breed. How beautiful she would be is likewise doubtful. It is still further true, as I've mentioned before, that the book never actually says how the Monster is brought to life. Rather specifically doesn't say. He says he would not record that information out of fear that someone else would do it. Which shows, I think, a great understanding of human nature. All the cautionary tales in the world matter naught if the opportunity to perform the foolish act is left open. If Frankenstein recorded how to create life--and if it were possible, in our world, to do so--someone would take his instructions and do it. And someone who would do that would have the hubris to follow the rest of the story almost to the letter, deaths and all.