FRANKENSTEIN
4.0 / 10
Is Guillermo Del Toro just a less interesting Tim Burton?
This week we’re reviewing the much anticipated adaptation of Frankenstein, written and directed by Guillermo Del Toro and adapted from Mary Shelley’s classic novel. I caught a matinee at the famed Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, in 35mm, no less. Sadly, it did not improve the experience.
I’ve never been a huge Del Toro fan. While I respect his craftsmanship, I’ve always found his work to be florid, self-indulgent and old-fashioned. Frankenstein is no exception and it suffers from serious story issues on top of that.
The biggest problem for me was splitting the narrative in two. The first half belongs to, and is narrated by, Oscar Isaac’s Dr. Frankenstein. The second, his creation, played by Jacob Elordi. Unfortunately, part one drags. It’s melodramatic and overlong, with Oscar Isaac’s Frankenstein rendered almost irredeemably unlikable. Do you know how hard it is to make Osacar Isaac unlikable?
By the time we reached the stronger second half, my patience had run thin. Jacob Elordi brings nuance to the Monster and his performance is mostly successful. But the movie around him does him no favors. The score is also dreadful, amplifying the film’s antique feel. Del Toro’s commitment to production design is admirable, but his aesthetic here feels dated and unoriginal. Compare that to a film like Poor Things, which reimagines a similar era with wit and vitality.
Finally, the ending, where Del Toro strives for emotional and narrative resolution, feels unearned due to Dr. Frankenstein’s lack of character development throughout the film. I did enjoy Christoph Waltz as Frankenstein’s benefactor and even laughed at a few sharp lines early on, but for most of its runtime, Frankenstein collapses under the weight of its own self-importance.
My main takeaway? Del Toro really hated his father. That’s basically the subtext of the entire film and alluded to in his recorded introduction. My rating? 4 out of 10. My lowest yet and a firm recommendation to stream something else on Netflix.
This week we’re reviewing the much anticipated adaptation of Frankenstein, written and directed by Guillermo Del Toro and adapted from Mary Shelley’s classic novel. I caught a matinee at the famed Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, in 35mm, no less. Sadly, it did not improve the experience.
I’ve never been a huge Del Toro fan. While I respect his craftsmanship, I’ve always found his work to be florid, self-indulgent and old-fashioned. Frankenstein is no exception and it suffers from serious story issues on top of that.
The biggest problem for me was splitting the narrative in two. The first half belongs to, and is narrated by, Oscar Isaac’s Dr. Frankenstein. The second, his creation, played by Jacob Elordi. Unfortunately, part one drags. It’s melodramatic and overlong, with Oscar Isaac’s Frankenstein rendered almost irredeemably unlikable. Do you know how hard it is to make Osacar Isaac unlikable?
By the time we reached the stronger second half, my patience had run thin. Jacob Elordi brings nuance to the Monster and his performance is mostly successful. But the movie around him does him no favors. The score is also dreadful, amplifying the film’s antique feel. Del Toro’s commitment to production design is admirable, but his aesthetic here feels dated and unoriginal. Compare that to a film like Poor Things, which reimagines a similar era with wit and vitality.
Finally, the ending, where Del Toro strives for emotional and narrative resolution, feels unearned due to Dr. Frankenstein’s lack of character development throughout the film. I did enjoy Christoph Waltz as Frankenstein’s benefactor and even laughed at a few sharp lines early on, but for most of its runtime, Frankenstein collapses under the weight of its own self-importance.
My main takeaway? Del Toro really hated his father. That’s basically the subtext of the entire film and alluded to in his recorded introduction. My rating? 4 out of 10. My lowest yet and a firm recommendation to stream something else on Netflix.