If you’ve even glanced in the direction of Guillermo Del Toro’s career, you’d know that this Frankenstein adaptation was always on the cards.
And I’m not just saying that because he’s called it his favourite book of all time and quoted it as the “bible” for his impressive back catalogue of work, though that’s certainly part of it. But because his love of this story has been written all over his work for about as long as he’s been making it – he’s returned to the well of tragic monsters, outsiders, and traumatic inheritance from about the minute he stepped behind a camera, and, at some point, he was always going to turn his hand to the story that started it all for him.
Thing is, though, that he’s far from the first to do so – and that Frankenstein has been done so iconically before he even got close to it. As brilliant and distinct a director as Del Toro is, he faced a bit of an uphill battle in stamping his mark specifically on a story and characters that have been done famously enough to become almost synonymous with the horror genre itself.
So what he did is come at the story slightly sideways. Instead of adapting the book page-for-page, as it must have been tempting to do as someone who holds it in such high esteem, he made a version of Frankenstein that’s both true to the tone of the book and utterly unique to him.
Del Toro is written in every frame of Frankenstein, and it’s a joy to behold someone so singular in their vision at the height of their creative powers (quite literally, after his Oscar win for Shape of Water. It’s an absurdly beautiful film, from the barren wasteland of the frozen North to the pure classic gothery of Frankenstein’s lab, from the costumes to the set design to the music and beyond.
The enormously accomplished cast deliver across the board; from Oscar Isaac’s bombastic, hubristic Frankenstein to Mia Goth’s curious, gentle Elizabeth in the main cast to Charles Dance, Christoph Waltz, and David Bradley in supporting roles, Del Toro has his pick of the best of the best and he’s not afraid to show it.
In terms of performance, though, this is Jacob Elordi’s film through and through. His turn as the Creature is damn near definitive, blending that near-painful vulnerability with a sense of genuine threat and imposition, never lost behind the dramatic make-up or costuming. It’s a total gift of a role for Elordi, something to buck the trend of the various hearthrobs he’s been playing in popular culture over the last few years (and this coming one, much to my chagrin) to give us something deft, deep, and deliberate. There’s an aching sweetness to this version of the Creature, as poetic and lovely and he is sour and cynical at times, and it’s by far the highlight of the whole piece for me.
Ultimately, Del Toro has imbued this version of Frankenstein, from top to bottom, with a profound and obvious love of the source material, if not a one-to-one retelling of it. If there was ever an adaptation to point to as proof that slavish adherence to the plot is less important than a fundamental understanding of the themes and how they present themselves in the text, it’s this one; there’s a certain reverence here, but also a focus on how to adapt this story for both a modern audience and cinematic storytelling, not losing an ounce of its impact but delivering a distinct version of the Frankenstein story.
Del Toro’s Frankenstein is one of the best films of the year, and a standout of recent classic adaptations to boot. Where do you stand on this adaptation? Would you have preferred something closer to the book, or do you think this takes works? Let me know in the comments!
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By Lou MacGregor
(header image via Hollywood Reporter)
No But Listen 