'Frankenstein' review: Guillermo del Toro delivers a gothic masterpiece with Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi
Guillermo del Toro’s long-awaited adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein delivers a powerful cinematic experience that fuses gothic horror, romance, and philosophical reflection. Led by Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein and Jacob Elordi as the Creature, the film reimagines Shelley’s 1818 classic with an emotionally charged narrative and breathtaking visuals.
Oscar Isaac in 'Frankenstein.'
Ken Woroner/Netflix
Themes of fatherhood, creation, and identity dominate the story, continuing del Toro’s exploration of fractured family dynamics. Isaac brings intensity to Victor, portraying the ambitious scientist’s arrogance and descent into remorse. Elordi offers a revelatory performance as the Creature, combining physical expressiveness with innocence, yearning, and heartbreak as he comes to terms with his existence. The film raises timeless questions about whether monstrosity is defined by appearance or by actions.
Del Toro’s Frankenstein is as visually striking as it is emotionally resonant. Cinematographer Dan Lausten, production designer Tamara Deverell, and costume designer Kate Hawley craft a world of vivid detail, from the oversaturated reds and greens that ignite the screen to elaborate costumes that enhance the story’s gothic atmosphere. Alexandre Desplat’s orchestral score deepens the film’s impact, underscoring moments of wonder and tragedy with sweeping intensity.
Structured as a Prelude followed by “Victor’s Tale” and “The Creature’s Tale,” the narrative opens in the Arctic, where a Danish sea captain encounters Victor near death and the imposing Creature on the ice. Flashbacks reveal Victor’s privileged yet tragic childhood, marked by the death of his mother and strained relationship with his father, played by Charles Dance. His obsession with conquering life and death leads him to experiments funded by Heinrich Harlander (Christophe Waltz), entangling his life with his brother William (Felix Kammerer) and Elizabeth (Mia Goth), whose intelligence and presence become central to the story.
The design of Victor’s Scottish laboratory reflects classic “mad scientist” imagery, enriched with del Toro’s signature detail, including massive lightning conductors and steam-powered machinery. Victor’s experiments draw on cadavers from war-torn battlefields, resulting in a Creature portrayed with a mix of awkwardness, grace, and sensuality by Elordi. The Creature’s discovery of language, friendship, and knowledge highlights both his humanity and his despair when confronted with his origins.
The emotional core lies in the tragic bond between creator and creation. Isaac portrays Victor as a visionary genius undone by his own ambition, while Elordi’s Creature embodies sorrow and longing for acceptance. Their intertwined fates echo the operatic themes of James Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein and its 1935 sequel Bride of Frankenstein, both acknowledged influences on del Toro’s vision.
Guillermo del Toro frames Frankenstein as a Romantic tragedy, closing with Lord Byron’s words: “And thus the heart will break and yet brokenly live on.” The Creature’s lament, “I cannot die. And I cannot live alone,” captures the essence of his eternal torment. With its sweeping visuals, haunting performances, and thematic depth, Frankenstein stands as one of del Toro’s most ambitious works, a cinematic experience that bridges horror, philosophy, and human emotion.
Netflix will release Frankenstein in theaters for a limited three-week run before its streaming debut, offering audiences a chance to witness del Toro’s visual masterpiece on the big screen.
