Del Toro’s Frankenstein is a sumptuous take on a classic parable

Frankenstein
Directed by Guillermo del Toro Now showing in select cinemas in the UK and US; streaming on Netflix starting 7 November

Guillermo Del Toro has long explored the intersection of science, myth, and monstrosity. His latest film, Frankenstein, draws inspiration from Mary Shelley’s iconic novel: the original text from 1818 that many believe laid the groundwork for both science fiction and contemporary horror.

The outcome is a visually stunning experience, carried by powerful performances and thought-provoking moments—although its pacing and certain stylistic choices reveal the influence of Netflix, the film’s backer.

Victor Frankenstein’s tale—about a brilliant yet reckless scientist who dares to animate the dead—remains a cautionary reminder of the risks and rewards tied to scientific pursuit. Del Toro presents Victor, portrayed by Oscar Isaac, as a magnetic and compulsive character whose personal and intellectual battles lead him into uncharted realms.

Isaac’s portrayal seamlessly merges confidence with vulnerability, complemented by a strong supporting cast: Christoph Waltz as Harlander, the industrialist funding Victor’s research; Charles Dance as Victor’s domineering father; and Mia Goth shines as Elizabeth Lavenza, a poignant and empathetic character.

The film shines brightest in the laboratory scenes. Del Toro and production designer Tamara Deverell have crafted a setting reminiscent of 19th-century anatomy theaters, featuring grand machinery and crude galvanic devices. The depiction of dissection and medical experimentation is stylized yet remains believable: precise details of surgical tools and techniques anchor the narrative in reality.

However, Victor’s collection of corpses may stretch the limits of plausibility—the sheer volume and condition of the bodies available to him certainly challenge credibility. Nonetheless, his research resonates with the Romantic era’s debates surrounding electricity, vitalism, and the thin line between life and death.

The Creature (Jacob Elordi), birthed and subsequently abandoned by Victor, presents a different visage than the famously bulky figure depicted in the 1931 film Frankenstein. Here, viewers are treated to a lean, scarred body brought to life through prosthetics and CGI. This combination achieves compelling results, though some tight shots—particularly when the Creature is motionless—encounter challenges with believability. Moreover, his aesthetic, leaning toward a more modern, “emo” look, feels more aligned with contemporary preferences than with Shelley’s early 19th-century context.

This artistic direction mirrors del Toro’s fascination with biology as a form of assemblage, viewing the body as a canvas for transformation, which has been evident in his previous works such as The Shape of Water. Even when seen through a modern perspective, the Creature embodies our lasting intrigue with the idea of reconstructing life from fragments—a scientific aspiration as captivating now as it was in Shelley’s era.

On a narrative level, Frankenstein stumbles slightly. Del Toro dedicates the film’s extensive 150-minute runtime to Victor’s youth, intellectual development, and gradual obsession with the ambition of defeating death. While this groundwork enriches the character’s psyche, it also causes a lag in pacing, which might feel overly drawn out to some viewers. Additionally, the Creature’s abilities—powerful enough to lift a ship as if it were crafted of wood—risk tilting into hyperbole, detracting from the film’s otherwise tempered examination of scientific potential.

Nevertheless, the core themes resonate powerfully. Frankenstein ultimately dives deeper into society’s response to the unfamiliar than it does into the mechanics of resurrection itself. Its striking visuals, characterized by Dan Laustsen’s cinematography that bathes both laboratories and vistas in dramatic light, combine with Alexandre Desplat’s score, which oscillates between foreboding tones and gentle themes of longing.

While del Toro’s filmography includes even more ambitious works, Frankenstein remains a profound and occasionally poignant investigation into one of science’s most compelling cautionary tales. It invites us to reflect, not just on our ability to create life, but on our capacity to coexist with our creations.