Frankenstein (Guillermo del Toro, 2025): Mexico | United States

Reviewed by Hanna Ward. Viewed at the SBIFF.

P a r t  I I I

The   Observer’s   Tale

Upon my return to the Arlington Theater of Santa Barbara on “Friday the thirteenth,” this February, Guillermo del Toro’s rendition of Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, written by none other than Mary Shelley, was the first film I had the utmost pleasure of experiencing. The atmosphere of the advancing nineteenth century, West-Central Europe that envelopes every scene and shot is tactfully utilized by del Toro to chillingly deliver the descent of Victor Frankenstein into the suffocating grasp of curiosity amidst his effort to create the “perfect specimen” that becomes the infamous Creature. Enervating performances from Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi as the tragic God and God’s creation dyad are bracing and allow for Shelley’s work to be seen in a fantastical and emotionally grueling darkness that proves to be considerably worth the time spent in the shade of the theater room alone, all other creative aspects aside.  

In the “Furthermost North,” the year 1857, my eyes were first graced with an icy, barren, landscape populated by a crew of men caught within the clutch of thick ice, orchestral music melancholily entering my auditory senses. Reaching the North Pole was their motive, enduring the unforgiving arctic even as night arrived, all due to the Captain’s orders. Dreary pale blue skies morphed into a black abyss, torches the only source of luminosity for miles until a disturbance was felt in proximity to the battered ship. Here is where chaos appears to have first ensued, contrary to the actuality of the circumstances that had been long anarchic before the crew’s encounter with wounded Victor Frankenstein, and the Creature desperately attempting to repossess him. A blazing battle corrupts the scenery, the Creature’s strength outmanning the crew through effortless tosses of their bodies all until he is countered by an arm much stronger than his: the blunderbuss — used not just to weaken his apparent invincibility, but to manipulate the odds of their triumph by shooting the ice itself. As the Creature falls further into the isolation of the glacial water encompassing his being, the Creature is believed by the crew to have been successfully vanquished; Victor promptly refutes the notion, his knowledge of his own creation confirming the falsity of the speculations. Daylight comes once again, marking the beginning of Victor’s recollection of his life, specifically what he believes to have commenced the bloodshed and violence that stalks him. 

I recall Victor’s voice, his sullen narration and recounts contrasting the vivid setting of the Frankenstein Estate. For twenty minutes, he detailed the hardships he and his mother endured, which were always a result of the hand of his Father, who inflicted his own desires for greatness and scientific learnings onto his son — both at the cost of pain instead of encouragement. When Victor’s mother died under the responsibility of his father, he declared his mission to “conquer death,” which thus spawned his intense craving for control, as well as his unfortunate avoidance of  accountability. Of his memories, the most insightful to Victor’s character were when he first presented his hypothesis on the potential ability to artificially assemble life, and furthermore the moment a flicker of the rancor he felt for his father after the neglect he faced returned and began to cyclically fuel his resentment for the imperfection of his own creation, which eventually drew him towards the solution of destruction catalyzed by abandonment. His cowardice was not something he could fully contain, as it was a part of the curriculum biologically written and learned through the Frankenstein blood and name. Victor chases whatever he does not understand, and disposes of it once an understanding is reached — something I realized is what makes Victor so beautiful tragic; he can see the value and complexity in life but not beyond its scientific explanation, as his own life force is charged by his brain’s accomplishments, not his soul’s desire to live it. His Creature is similar in his impulsive curiosity, but is overall polar to him, his existence driven by indifference to explanation, by the art of experiencing it simply as it is. After Victor’s tale is told, the Creature reenters the ship, motivated to tell his own. What followed was a nightmarish hell that melted into a dream, portraying his sensitivity and gentleness that is delicately nurtured by nature but cruelly hunted by mankind. While observing his time shared with the old man he accidentally (but also purposefully) befriended, the Creature’s acknowledgement of the inevitable violence between wolves and sheep, and humanity’s continued choice to corrupt their cycle despite its natural occurrence was particularly profound to me. This part of his tale created a personal epiphany for me that humanity’s universal discomfort with the existence of violence is paradoxically projected through individual acts of violence for the sake of defending the expectation, but not actual manifestation, of one’s own comfort. When the wolves, in spite of their own survival, kill the old man, the Creature acts out in a fit of rage, desperately mauling each of them in hopes of the imaginary outcome where the man would live through his injuries, but can’t even be fully angry with the animals actions, as they were not emotionally acted upon but simply part of who the wolves are, leading to his contradiction of his own words that “the world will hunt you for being who you are.”  

Spectating tales as different but cohesive as these only proved more to me how essential, no matter the rendition, the tale of Frankenstein is to learning about what humanity deems as nature’s limits and what is accepted of it. The lessons on our collective but separate experience are depicted with sensitivity but also a certain bluntness, particularly through the duality of cruelty, and antipathy alongside mercy and rapport in our vast, interconnected, world. From del Toro’s sentimental writing and directing, Isaac and Elordi’s conflicted but joint performances, and the flowing, ever-changing and constantly moving cinematography assisted by the beautiful gothic color palette expressed in the moody lighting as well as grand production design, I am led to concluding my tale as the observer with the belief that your immersion in Frankenstein’s fantasy will not only thrill your senses, but ultimately guide you towards a new interpretation of the human existence.