Frankenstein

Frankenstein, a movie primarily about how Doctor Henry Frankenstein deals with the fallout of his monster actually coming to life, holds up very well almost ninety years from its release. Starting with the monster itself, we find a fantastic character. Without any lines of dialogue, the filmmakers and Boris Karloff had to use actions and emotions to display the motivations of the monster, and they did a fantastic job of it. The fear, confusion, and longing that the novel describes are evident in the monster's actions, to the point of pushing the audience to root for him. The rest of the characters are also a bit of fun. Baron Frankenstein, played by Fred Kerr, was also a hoot. He played a no-nonsense character that functioned well in the comic-relief role needed with Edward Van Sloan's Dr. Wladman and Mae Clarke's Elizabeth being quite serious, even dramatic. Colin Clive, the man who played Doctor Henry, did a decent job in his role as well, pulling off the role of being consumed by his work, even when he desired to be free from it. The acting, overall, was a touch more theatrical than I would prefer in a horror movie, but it wasn't so distracting that it pulled me out of the film. The film is a ton of fun to watch, but I do have to say it isn't exactly terrifying. The atmospheric creepiness is somewhat lacking compared to modern-era horror, even going back fifty years. That being said, the movie, if thought about and rewatched, does a good job of displaying how the fear of the unknown, and letting that fear take over, can be the real monster.

Oh, in the name of God! Now I know what it feels like to be God! We will always see debates about which of the original wave of Universal Monster movies is the most important. With Dracula being released just under a year before Frankenstein, that tends to give the vampire crowd a sense of justifiable cause for a trumpet fanfare. Perhaps the more pertinent question is which is the better movie? Surely the most hardened of Dracula fans have to bow their heads in acknowledgement that Frankenstein quite simply is superior on every level - even if it itself is not as good as its sequel... Narrative doesn't quite follow Mary Shelley's original source material (what a brain that lady had!), but the core essence of a tragic tale holds tight. Directing was one James Whale, who here was in his directorial infancy, he himself up for debate about greatest horror genre directors, but his masterful sense of theatrical staging, and that of the terror incarnate for the era, is sublime to the point that come 100 years after its release this will still be held up as a timeless horror classic. The thematics of the story pulse with brilliance, the advent of berserker science, the alienation and confusion flow of the creature grips and stings the heart equally. The later camp of Whale's horror ventures is mostly absent here, instead we have a dark almost miserably bleak tone, which exists right up to the end title card which brings closure after the brilliant and iconic finale has made its mark. Jack Pierce's marvelous make-up and the birth of Karloff as a genre legend seals the deal on what is without doubt one of the genre's most important films. 9/10