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Mary Shelley's Frankenstein
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a rip-roaring, old-fashioned monster movie that is as fun as it is frightening. It has terrific style, energy, and an appreciation for its subject matter. If it occasionally loses its narrative footing, the raw power of its cinematic skills still makes it a wickedly good time. Kenneth Branagh directs and stars as Victor Frankenstein, the university student who mixes science with dark arts to create a Creature (Robert De Niro) who ultimately destroys him. As the title implies, the film is based on Mary Shelley’s Gothic novel, and while it contains the same themes, it differs in tone. Whereas Shelley’s novel was slow-moving and thoughtful, Branagh directs with such frenzy and energy that electricity seems to spark from scene to scene with as much power as the charges that bring the Creature to life. Why give Frankenstein a conservative mansion when you can give him a castle complete with a gigantic flight of stairs? Why have a boat float into ice and slowly freeze when it can slam into an iceberg during a storm? Why work in a quiet, small laboratory when Frankenstein can have an attic the size of two football fields at his disposal? The result is entirely epic in scale, differing sharply from Shelley’s quieter novel. Not that this energy and fast-paced style is detrimental to the film. This retelling actually benefits from Branagh’s approach: If we are to believe Mary Shelley’s claims about her novel’s origins, it was based on a nightmare that she had while visiting Geneva with her future husband Percy Shelley and his friend Lord Byron. There have already been slow, thoughtful films based on the subsequent novel, such as Dan Curtis’ 1973 made-for-TV version and Calvin Floyd’s Swedish Victor Frankenstein (1977). A more appropriate title for Branagh’s film is Mary Shelley’s Nightmare that Inspired Frankenstein, because this is the way that it plays. Like Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Coppola is still on board here as a producer), the camera never slows down and an emphasis is put on style. Unlike that film, it works for Branagh. The success of this style here is mainly due to the intimate nature of Shelley’s story, which doesn’t lend itself to special effects or towering set designs the way that Dracula does. Instead, Branagh utilizes the role of nature in Shelley’s novel, and we are given spectacular extreme shots of snowcapped mountains and ships frozen in ice. These shots cleverly reveal that while Frankenstein toys with nature, it is still far more powerful than he is. This sense of an overbearing Mother Nature adds to the story’s grandeur instead of creating its own jarringly cinematic spectacle, which was Dracula’s main offense. In addition, while Coppola inserted a romantic subplot in his Dracula that is nowhere to be found in the novel, Branagh more or less sticks to his subject matter (with one marring exception that I shall address below). For the most part, he only makes alterations to speed up the process instead of trying to appeal to a younger generation of moviegoers. For example, instead of a lengthy trial for Justine Moritz (Trevyn McDowell), the poor maid who is framed for murder by the Creature, Branagh just has an angry lynch mob hang her. Instead of Victor assuming that the Creature dies once it escapes from his lab, Branagh inserts a city under attack from a cholera epidemic to make Victor’s conviction more plausible. Such changes work to make Frankenstein a more cinematic experience, and they do not take away from the importance of the novel’s themes about the consequences of playing God. Yet we can also skip the fact that Branagh’s film is a faithful adaptation, and its spectacle still works as an exciting time at the movies. Frankenstein films have always been high-camp in nature, with gruesome monster-making sequences and elaborate laboratories. Here, Branagh pulls no stops. He understands that he is making a monster movie, and he would rather create an experience that intelligently utilizes cinematic style than keep things completely serious. The creation sequence is the stuff of B-movie legend, as Frankenstein pulls a gigantic steel coffin containing the Creature along the roof with a chain and pulley, only to lower it, stick electrical rods into the corpse’s body, pour amniotic fluid into the coffin, and then untie a gigantic, pulsing bag of sting-rays that flood the coffin and bite into the Creature, giving it life. This entire sequence is absurd, of course, but it has every right to be. Branagh makes his film work two-fold: As an adaptation of a classic morality tale, he must take its themes seriously. As a remake of a camp-icon, he must also channel the likes of James Whale and Hammer Studios. The combination works—Branagh creates scenes of pure style that have not been done this well since the Whale era of Frankenstein. On the other hand, he also focuses much of his energy in creating the intimate relationship between Victor and the Creature. Most of the second act concerns the Creature as he discovers his identity. He is abandoned by his creator, attacked by an angry mob, flees from civilization and, eventually, learns to read and speak and comes looking for revenge for his existence. As played by De Niro, the Creature is a philosopher and a poet; when he finally confronts Victor and asks him, “Did you ever consider the consequences of your actions?” we are moved and honestly want to hear Victor’s response. On that note, the acting is superb on every level. The cast is aware that Branagh is delivering both a film that tries to take Shelley’s message seriously but also capture the essence of traditional Frankenstein films, and they perform accordingly. I have already mentioned De Niro, who brings just the right amount of pathos and rage into the Creature, whom we love just as much as we fear. As Frankenstein, Branagh effectively juggles madness with passion, morphing from an eager university student to a man with a heavy cross of his own making to bear. The relationship between Victor and his Creature is crucial to the theme, as they shift from strangers to collaborators to enemies to, finally, father and son. The actors generate wonderful chemistry, particularly in their quieter moments together. Others, including Tom Hulce as Victor’s university friend (in a role originally meant for Christopher Lambert), Ian Holm as Victor’s father, John Cleese as Victor’s mentor, and Aidan Quinn as Ship Captain Robert Walton, are effective in supporting roles. Branagh’s only serious misstep is in the interpretation of Victor’s fiancée, Elizabeth, played by Helen Bonham Carter. Mary Shelley’s novel did not contain a strong role for women (many scholars note that the absence of women is crucial to the novel’s themes), and like Coppola with the heroine in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Branagh feels a need to turn her into a more contemporary character. While Branagh does not create a subplot to achieve this like Coppola did, he does enhance the novel’s romance unnecessarily. This includes a sequence in which Elizabeth visits him in his laboratory, and later, she actually proposes to him! This change simply does not work, nor do the additional dull love scenes between Victor and Elizabeth. These scenes are supposed to add spice, but they only create lulls in the momentum. That said, the final moments with Elizabeth are both tragic and beautiful, and while they might deviate from the novel, they add effective cinematic touches that enhance the story at least as a visual parable. When it is all said and done, Branagh has created a fantastic film here that plays like a campy, over-the-top monster film of olde just as much as it strives to take Shelley’s vision seriously. Granted, a truly serious contemporary Frankenstein film has yet to be made; nevertheless, Branagh understands the nature of his protagonist as both a literary and cinematic icon, and the difference between the two mediums. After all, the Creature might eventually destroy everything that Victor knows and loves, but before this awful tragedy occurs, the mad doctor still must have his moment when he dances madly across his laboratory and screams “It’s alive!” Here, Branagh has his cake and eats it too. Click
here to read my review of Coppola-directed Bram Stoker's
Dracula. Cast: Colombia Pictures presents an American Zeotrope film. Directed by Kenneth Branagh. Produced by Francis Ford Coppola. Written by James V. Hart, from the novel by Mary Shelley. Rated R, for gore, frightening sequences, and brief sexuality. Running time: 123 minutes. Original United States theatrical release date: November 4, 1994. Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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