Guillermo del Toro’s adaptation of Mary Shelley’s iconic gothic sci-fi horror novel is a film that I feel very conflicted about, because while I enjoyed Frankenstein overall and would recommend it, especially to his die-hard fans, this is nowhere near his best film.

A big reason why I feel this way comes down to the various flaws that hold this film back from being as great as del Toro’s best dark fantasy monster movie/human drama fairy tales, like Pan’s Labyrinth or The Shape of Water. For every element of Frankenstein that I love or adore, there would be a congruent issue—whether technical or narrative—that prevented those positive attributes from fully blossoming. The most notable example of this phenomenon pertains to how the film looks visually and what is being presented in each frame. 

Oscar Isaac in Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein.
(Image credit: Netflix)

Frankenstein is filled with a lot of wide shots that attempt to not only cram as much imagery and production value in a single frame as possible but also to show off the film’s grandiose scale and scope. Conceptually, there is nothing wrong with this approach, as I’m the type of person who gravitates towards visually impressive films shot using cameras with wide-angle lenses anyway. In fact, Poor Things, Yorgos Lanthimos’ own Frankenstein-inspired movie, had a similar approach to its cinematography with its fisheye presentation and liberal use of wide shots. However, the reason why Frankenstein’s particular filmmaking approach doesn’t quite stick the landing for me is that almost every shot has this TV-esque, Netflix-y quality to it that feels more suitable for a direct-to-streaming feature than a theatrical release. Perhaps I feel this way because I knew going into this film that it was a Netflix production, and that knowledge may have clouded my judgment, but I still couldn’t help shake this feeling that every shot has this digital quality to it that’s too crisp and clean.

That’s not to say the movie doesn’t look visually impressive, because it certainly is. Every frame of this movie is gorgeous to look at, and a big reason for that is the detailed production value displayed throughout the film. Del Toro consistently delivers when it comes to meticulously crafted and immersive sets, costumes, backgrounds, and creature designs, and Frankenstein is no exception, as the craftsmanship in this film is nothing less than immaculate. This is especially the case when it comes to the iconic monster (Jacob Elordi) himself, as, from a strictly creature design perspective, he appears incredibly convincing. This is by far the most unique-looking Frankenstein’s monster, though visually, he is more reminiscent of the Engineers from Ridley Scott’s Alien prequels than the typical large green man that audiences are used to seeing. 

(Image credit: Netflix)

I didn’t mind this new creature design. In fact, I quite like it. It not only stands out from previous incarnations of this monster but also makes sense within the film’s context, as the monster is created using the body parts of various corpses that Dr. Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) collects throughout the first half. Add the fact that Jacob Elordi does a fantastic job playing Frankenstein’s monster. The result is a creature that looks and feels so alive (pun intended) that I consider him to be up there with some of del Toro’s best monster/creature characters, like the Amphibian Man from The Shape of Water or the titular character from the Hellboy movies.

However, while all the practical effects, makeup, and costumes are all top-notch, the same cannot be said about the CGI, which at times can look downright horrendous. While some of the more palatable uses of CG, such as any exterior shots of castles and buildings, can be forgiven or overlooked, the same cannot be said about all CGI animals, as they are all unconvincing. The worst offender is the CGI wolves, as not only do they seem the most obviously CG, but they also keep appearing repeatedly throughout the film, making their artificiality look even more present and unavoidable. It’s a shame because del Toro has proven with films like Pacific Rim that he can pull off convincing digital effects, especially when combined with real, practical ones, so the fact that it’s not the case with Frankenstein is disappointing. 

(Image credit: Netflix)

As flawed as the cinematography and CG are, none of that really matters to me in the long run as long as I am invested in the narrative, characters, and thematic elements. In my opinion, del Toro absolutely nailed all three of them because these are by far the strongest aspects of Frankenstein. In the same vein as his other films that explore the beauty and humanity of monsters, like Pan’s Labyrinth and The Shape of Water, Frankenstein is a profoundly human and emotionally compelling film about a creature that didn’t ask to be born, is rejected by his creator/father, and has to find some purpose or meaning in his life. It’s a story not dissimilar from our own, and the way del Toro frames the monster’s story as a human one, explicitly focusing on the tragic father-son angle despite their violent conflicts, results in a movie that moved me.

Admittedly, it took a bit to get the ball rolling, as the film is divided into two halves: one focusing on Dr. Frankenstein and the other on the monster. The first half can feel sluggish at times in terms of pacing and plot progression, as del Toro devotes a significant amount of time to various subplots and characters that are either unnecessary or could have been shortened to serve the same point. For example, the first 15-ish minutes are dedicated to exploring Dr. Frankenstein’s backstory, and while I understand the purpose of this opening is to reveal how his relationships with his abusive father and loving mother made him the man that he is, a lot of it felt repetitive once the scene’s purpose was clearly presented and fulfilled. Similarly, a lot of the first half is dedicated to unnecessary conflicts, like Dr. Frankenstein attempting and failing to win Elizabeth’s (Mia Goth) heart, or Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz) revealing the true reasons for investing in Frankenstein’s project, all of which add very little to the overall narrative, especially since they are barely brought up again. Thankfully, Oscar Isaac delivers an electrifying enough performance that still keeps this first half engaging.

Frankenstein - TIFF 2025
(Image credit: Netflix)

However, the second half of the film, told from the monster’s perspective, is where I truly fell in love with the movie, as I consider it the true heart of the narrative. Throughout this section, we see the monster wander throughout the wilderness, attempting to find himself some identity and purpose after being rejected by Dr. Frankenstein. The monster learns how to read, think critically, speak intelligently, and ultimately find companionship in figures who don’t fear or attack him but love and admire him for who he is. At the end of the day, the monster wants what every other person in the world desires: love and companionship. That’s not to say the beast is some lost, defenceless puppy, as he’s capable of committing great acts of violence (in fact, the film is a lot gorier than I expected). Still, that destruction is an unfortunate byproduct of how he was created. 

Yet del Toro showcases that even monsters require and deserve someone who can unconditionally love and care about them. That desire for love is what ultimately makes Frankenstein such a compelling movie. The moments that will stick with me for a long time aren’t the extravagant spectacle or horrific violence, but the quieter and dramatic moments where characters open up to each other and express anger or compassion with each other. This is just as much a human drama as it is a monster movie, and that beautiful blending of the two is what ultimately makes Frankenstein interesting and worth watching. While it is by no means his best film, it is still one that is worth watching.

Rating: 7/10

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Geeks Of Color

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading