Guillermo del Toro’s long-gestating adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein has finally come to life, and the journey to the screen has been as epic and fraught as the story it tells. With a production budget of $120 million, over two decades in development, and a creative vision rooted in del Toro’s childhood fascination with the 1931 James Whale classic, the film’s debut this year at the Venice Film Festival and TIFF50 marks a milestone in modern genre cinema, as reported by Variety and other outlets.
Del Toro’s obsession with Frankenstein began when he was a boy growing up in Mexico. The director has said, “Frankenstein is in all my movies. It’s in ‘Blade II,’ it’s in ‘Cronos,’ it’s in all of the things that I’ve done.” According to Variety, the emotional resonance of Shelley’s tale has haunted del Toro for decades, driving him to pursue this adaptation across studios and through countless obstacles. Only after winning his second Oscar did del Toro finally acquire the industry clout to persuade Netflix to bankroll his vision, culminating in a lavish, large-scale production filmed in Scotland and Toronto.
The film stars Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein and Jacob Elordi as the Creation. Elordi’s transformation for the role was nothing short of extraordinary. Ramin Setoodeh, Variety’s co-Editor in Chief, remarked, “If I had gone to this movie cold without opening credits and watched the film not knowing who was in it, obviously I recognized Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein… but I would not have known or guessed it was Jacob Elordi. That’s the kind of transformation that he undergoes in this movie.” Elordi, standing at 6-foot-5, spent long days in prosthetics and makeup to bring the iconic creature to life, a feat that added both physical and psychological weight to his performance.
The story, set in the 1850s, opens with a striking framing device: a group of Scandinavian sailors, trapped in Arctic ice, stumble upon a mortally ill Victor Frankenstein and soon discover the howling presence of his monstrous Creation. This prologue, which echoes both Shelley’s original narrative and Frank Darabont’s unproduced screenplay, sets the stage for a tale of ambition, hubris, and loss told through a series of flashbacks from both Victor’s and the Creation’s perspectives.
Victor’s backstory is rendered with a depth that highlights the psychological underpinnings of his obsession. Raised by a stern, brilliant father (Charles Dance) and a loving mother (Lauren Collins), Victor’s formative years were marked by tragedy and rivalry. His mother’s death during childbirth left him competing with his younger brother William (Felix Kammerer) for their father’s affection. This dynamic, as described in Slashfilm, fueled Victor’s determination to conquer death and surpass his father’s scientific achievements—an ambition that would ultimately prove his undoing.
One of the film’s most memorable sequences occurs when Victor, now an accomplished scientist, demonstrates his research before the Royal Academy. In a scene that showcases del Toro’s flair for charismatic horror, Victor uses a battery-powered system to reanimate a partially dissected corpse. The spectacle horrifies the assembled scientists, nearly inciting a riot, but also attracts the attention of Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz), an arms dealer with deep pockets and ulterior motives. Harlander’s willingness to fund Victor’s experiments opens the door for the fateful act of creation, while his niece Elizabeth (Mia Goth), William’s fiancée, adds another layer of personal tension to Victor’s already fraught relationships.
Del Toro’s Frankenstein distinguishes itself from previous adaptations by the intensity of the bond between creator and creation. Unlike earlier versions, Victor is less horrified by the monster’s appearance—after all, he assembled him from “perfect parts”—but is instead frustrated by the creature’s apparent lack of a soul or intelligence. When the Creation forms an unexpected connection with Elizabeth, Victor’s jealousy and sense of failure boil over, leading to a dramatic and destructive confrontation that leaves both men scarred—physically and emotionally.
After the Creation escapes into the wilderness, the narrative shifts to his perspective. Elordi’s portrayal is physically imposing—ghostly white, covered in scars, and, as the reviewer for Slashfilm wryly notes, sporting a mane of hair that “looks less raven-like than it does a bad dye job.” The Creation’s journey is a study in alienation and longing, as he observes humanity from the margins and ultimately comes to hate his creator. Del Toro grants the creature superhuman abilities—healing, strength, and near-immortality—which, while visually striking, have drawn criticism for feeling out of place in an otherwise grounded narrative.
The film’s visual style has also sparked debate. While the production values are undeniably high, with grand sets and intricate makeup, some critics have found the overall look “sterile,” likening it to the polished sheen of a Netflix original viewed on a home television. The movie’s pacing and structure—particularly the hour-long delay before the monster appears and the abruptness of the finale—have also been points of contention. As one reviewer put it, “The story also resolves so abruptly that it comes across as almost comedic, the creator and creation making nice, salving the emotional wounds they’ve inflicted on each other, when, just a few hours before, the good doctor was trying to blow up his monster with dynamite.”
Despite these criticisms, there’s little doubt that del Toro’s Frankenstein is a passion project—a “career remix” that draws on the director’s lifelong fascination with monsters and the gothic. As Brent Lang of Variety observed, “This is something [del Toro’s] been thinking about making since he was a little boy… and then he finally gets to do this after trying to set this up at various studios.” The film’s premiere at Venice and TIFF50, and its positioning as an Oscar contender, testify to the industry’s recognition of del Toro’s achievement, even as the film’s idiosyncrasies provoke debate among critics and fans alike.
For del Toro, the completion of Frankenstein is both an artistic milestone and a personal triumph—a testament to perseverance, creative vision, and the enduring power of Shelley’s tale. Whether the film ultimately stands alongside the great adaptations or remains a curious footnote in his career, it is, without question, the product of a filmmaker who has spent a lifetime wrestling with the monsters of his imagination.
