Frankenstein (2025)

Guillemo Del Toro delivers a colorful and defining adaptation of the Mary Shelly novel

As much as Netflix is getting blamed for the death of the theatrical experience, the streaming company is giving filmmakers the resources and freedom otherwise denied by studios. This is most apparent with Guillermo Del Toro, the Mexican director has always had a passion for monster movies and fairytales, and when he sought to make his version of Pinocchio (2022), he insisted on it being done in stop-motion animation. Netflix gave him free rein, and the auteur delivered the most affecting version of that fairytale ever. Now, Del Toro has been given a chance to make one of his biggest passion projects: Frankenstein (2025).

Frankenstein is a faithful adaptation of the Mary Shelly novel, opening on the frozen arctic ocean, where a stranded ship and its captain (Lars Mikkelsen) discover a wounded man, Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) who is hunting the Creature (Jacob Elordi) he brought to live ,and who marked his downfall.

The story of “Frankenstein” has been told countless times in the past, most notably in James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931). While that film and Boris Karloff’s indelible incarnation as the Creature have become engraved in pop-culture, I was mightily disappointed when I first saw it. Having read Shelly’s book first, I was astounded at how misguided Whale’s vision was; his story was about the Icarian dangers of man’s ambition. Yet the beauty of Shelly’s novel is in its philosophical and humanist exploration about what defines humanity and how we define the soul.

The alternate title of Shelly’s novel is “The Modern Prometheus,” and for a long while the general culture, including even Kenneth Branagh’s more faithful adaptation Frankenstein (1994), saw the Promethean allusion to be the cautionary one of defying the will of the Gods, yet I took the Promethean allusion to be of the enlightening and learning humanity garnered of itself when receiving the flame from the compassionate Titan. In an ironic way it was Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein (1974) that came closest to capturing this humane view of the Creature’s condition and the lessons of the tale. Del Toro and his empathy for the othered felt like the perfect lens to capture this deeper and more tender version of the “Frankenstein” tale.

Del Toro’s Frankenstein hews closest to Shelly’s prose that any previous adaptation, yet even a loyal adaptation can produce a rather empty and mimicry echo, much as the Brannagh version. Yet with the Mexican that was never in danger of happening, his propensity for playing with contrasting colors, inmbuing his sets with vigor, and his panache for stringing horror with tenderness makes him the perfect counterpart to converse with Shelly. That’s not to say that Del Toro becomes a slave to the text either, he makes important changes, notable in the character of Elizabeth (Mia Goth) who is originally Victor’s fiancée, but is now his brother’s (Felix Kammerer), and she is given an expanded role. It is in the human narratives that Del Toro polishes up most, inserting a melodramatic tone amidst the relationships and a musty love triangle, to heighten the stakes and attachment to these characters. It is a useful construction on the original novel, yet also a slight dilution. By playing with the campy, Del Toro chips away at the brooding gothic tone of his world, distancing viewers from the central thesis. It’s a difficult proposition, since you can either have flatter characters and more academic view of the narrative, or a fleshed out cast and diluted focus on Frankenstein and his creature.

Regardless, the central relationship of Frankenstein is carried out to its full potential by Del Toro. The hubris of Victor Frankenstein is perfectly encapsulated through a desperation born in childhood. We witness the madness and ego of the scientist, yet understand why he can’t escape it. Yet the missing piece of all these adaptations has been the Creature and his story. Del Toro treats the Creature with the pity and tenderness that Shelly’s words did, and his discovery of what it means to be human is weaved together in a beautiful and heartbreaking way. Putting a greater emphasis on this act of self-discovery is the key to the novel and Del Toro rightly makes it his central piece. It echoes in many moments the brilliant Danny Boyle stage adaptation of the novel with Benedict Cumberbatch and Johnny Lee Miller in swapping roles of Creature and Frankenstein, which also centered heavily on the gentle self-actualization and maturing of the Creature as a naïve being slowly learning the beauties and cruelties of life.

In any “Frankenstein” adaptation the role of Victor is key, yet frequently blundered, having to balance brilliance, ambition, and madness of the character. Isaac delivers an astoundingly threaded performance, depicting the swaying moods and convictions of Victor as he both pities and is revolted by his creation, much the same way as he views himself. It is the lens of self-hatred that gives Victor a greater depth than past flatter interpretations, which portrayed him a as a simple cruel and ambitious man. Regarding the Creature, I have consistently been proven wrong by Elordi and his casting choices. I was first skeptical of his embodying Elvis Presley in Priscilla (2023) and then he wowed viewers with a dark yet charismatic take on the King of Rock. As the Creature, I was likewise skeptical that the dashing actor could embody the raw and bared role and his slow evolution from humanist to cynic. Yet once again I am astounded at the endless range of the Australian performer. At first the Euphoria (2019-) alum is unrecognizable under so much make-up, but the rattling and raspy voice that his Creature dons alongside the staccato, stumbling movements as he grows accustomed to his patchwork body delivers an immersive and defining take on the role, to rival and surpass that of Boris Karloff. Karloff did much with his limited screentime and rather one-note character, his scene amongst the daffodils showed the missed gentleness that Whale skimmed over. Elordi pairs his spectacular inhabited performance with a richer script and colorful direction, giving him an unrivaled boost up.

Del Toro delivers another enrapturing and singular vision of a seemingly burnt out tale. Though not reaching the emotional heights of his Pinocchio, due to a rather hammed up use of melodrama, the Mexican director nevertheless delivers the deepest and most loyal cinematic take on Shelly’s iconic novel. Paired with spectacular performances, a greater emphasis on the humanist lens, and Del Toro’s colorful and vigorous filmmaking, this Frankenstein is an electrifying watch.

8.5/10