It’s no secret that the Mexican film director Guillermo del Toro has been waiting all his life to make Mary Shelly’s “Frankenstein.” Del Toro has publicly made that claim, while film critics have joyfully amplified it. Besides, all you have to do is go back to the “Shape of Water” to find del Toro’s penchant for melodramatic love stories and gothic settings, not to mention his double-edged conceit of humanizing monsters and monstering humans.
And not a moment too soon. For almost a hundred years, beginning with the 1931 “Frankenstein,” starring Boris Karloff, the image of a flat-topped monster with neck electrodes has dominated pop culture renderings of Victor Frankenstein’s monster. Del Toro delivers us from that hackneyed visual by returning to the source material, Mary Shelly’s 1818 novel, “Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus.” Del Toro doesn’t update or modernize the story as much as revitalize it. And as convenient as it is to watch it in the comfort of your own home, del Toro’s “Frankenstein” is best enjoyed on the big screen, where the sumptuous production design and cinematography restore the “Frankenstein” story to its original epic grandeur.
The fundamentals of Shelly’s tale remain intact in the film: An over-reaching scientist, Victor Frankenstein, stitches together body parts from corpses and brings a new being to life, only to recoil in horror at the sight of this creation. The Creature, spurned by both Victor and society in general, learns his origin story, seeks revenge, and eventually confronts Victor for making, then abandoning, him.
While these plot elements endure in del Toro’s telling, his alterations are significant. For one, del Toro’s Creature is far more sympathetic and less murderous than Shelly’s, and is endowed, arguably, with more humanity and tenderness than any other character in the film. Portrayed by the 6 ‘5 Jacob Elordi, the Creature, unlike Shelly’s unsightly lump of flesh, moves with the latent grace of an impaired modernist dancer, and shares smoldering moments with his love interest, Elizabeth. Making the Creature incapable of dying enhances the curse-of-life burden that the Creature labors with, but some of del Toro’s other departures from the novel — like making Elizabeth Victor’s sister-in-law rather than his wife — feel unnecessary.
Oscar Isaac endows Victor Frankenstein with the right blend of unhinged ambition and frailty. And in the spirit of Sally Hawkins in “The Shape of Water,” Mia Goth is sufficiently otherworldly as to be believable in her character’s mutual attraction to the Creature. However, the universe that del Toro creates unmistakably belongs to Jacob Elordi, who will surely be nominated for an Oscar for this role. His vocal and physical performances create the conditions for the pathos and curiosity that his character so effectively elicits from us.
Del Toro’s fidelity to Shelly’s themes ultimately makes the film universal and timeless. Like Shelly, del Toro mines the two narrative arcs of Milton’s epic poem, “Paradise Lost” — the fall of Adam and Eve, and Lucifer’s expulsion from heaven — to ask existential questions about why God granted us life only to plunge us into despair and forsake us. One of the film’s most inspiring moments is when Victor comes to accept the Creature. In turn, the Creature comes to forgive Victor and, we presume, meet Victor’s challenge to make the most out of the spark of life he’s been carelessly granted.
Still, the 19th-century narcissism and amorality that led Victor to disregard warnings and bring life to the Creature will inevitably lead filmgoers to consider the 21st-century purveyors of AI, whose disregard for ethical consequences is exceeded only by a pursuit of higher stock valuations. Like the Creature, AI is not only made up of enough human fragments and immortality to one day take our place on Earth, but it may prove to be more deserving of that place as well.