Notable Cast: Colin Clive, Mae Clark, John Boles, Boris
Karloff
Note: This review contains spoilers for the film.
“The man who made a monster.”
For a film released in 1931, which is quickly sprinting towards its 100th year
of existence in the world, it’s stunning to think about how close to perfect Frankenstein
is as a film. Just look at that tagline above. “The man who made a monster.” Not
only is it provocative in terms of its promises to its viewers, dissecting the
titular doctor who has reached infamy in the last decade of decades, but it’s a
tagline that seriously works on multiple levels for those familiar with
Universal’s iconic monster film. Yes, you will get men. Yes, you will get
monsters. Yes, you will see how intrinsically they are tied together.
The question that lingers over James Whale’s adaptation of
Mary Shelley’s novel is whether or not Frankenstein’s creation is actually a
monster at all, particularly compared to his creator, but the tagline - in all
of its simplicity - adds a layer to it. If Frankenstein is the monster and his
creation is the man, then is it the fact that he even succeeded in creating a
man that makes him the monster? Can a person, any person, be a monster if not
compared to mankind?
Yet, that’s the brilliance of what Whale has crafted with Frankenstein.
Cinephiles have surgically dissected it for decades, layer by layer, for its
themes and execution, yet it still remains a watchable slice of entertainment
that grows with repeated viewings. I watched this film repeatedly as a child,
rewinding my VHS copy again and again rather than seeking out the new Disney
film like some of my childhood friends did, and as an adult, it means even more
to me beyond nostalgia. It’s a film about the human experience, or lack
thereof, crafted as an early-era horror flick whose universal themes and
critiques stand the test of time thanks to its incredible execution.
Or, in more simplistic terms, a masterpiece of cinema.
