Reanimating Shelley: Guillermo del Toro Breathes New Life Into ‘Frankenstein’
- Isabelle Monteiro
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Headlining the London Film Festival, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025) was one of the most highly anticipated premieres. Starring Oscar Isaac as the titular scientist, Victor Frankenstein, and Jacob Elordi as The Creature, the film’s supporting cast also features Christopher Waltz, Mia Goth, David Bradley, and Lars Mikkelson, who bring a mixture of warmth, melancholy and playfulness with electrifying intensity. The project, a long time passion of del Toro, unfolds as a visually stunning masterpiece that fuses wonder and beauty with the grotesque. While those seeking a faithful book-to-screen adaptation of Mary Shelley’s text may find themselves disappointed, del Toro’s Frankenstein offers a devastatingly poignant exploration of familial abuse, framed within the overarching theme of humanity’s inherent violence.
The film follows the chronological structure of Shelley’s novel and is divided into three chapters: an Arctic “Prelude”, Victor’s Tale, and the Creature’s Tale. The opening sequence, set across the sweeping Arctic plains, is the first of many sumptuous shots, and the grandeur of the production as a whole is breathtaking. The meticulously designed period costumes and elaborate, immersive sets showcase del Toro’s artistry, realised through the work of long-time collaborators including production designer Tamara Deverell and costume designer Kate Hawley. Alexandre Desplat’s haunting yet emotionally resonant score further elevates the film’s Gothic aesthetic, creating a soundscape that is at once intimate, otherworldly, and deeply human.
Mixing Gothic horror with tragic romance, del Toro stakes a middle ground between Shelley’s novel and the melodramatic terror of previous adaptations. Loneliness, anguish, and the agony of creation permeate the narrative, primarily through the Creature, whose sensitive eloquence mirrors his maker’s callousness and remorse. Isaac’s portrayal of Victor is magnetic, blending arrogance, contempt, and grief into a layered performance that leaves audiences unsure whether to love or loathe him. Yet the true heart of the film lies in Elordi’s portrayal, which situates the Creature on the boundary between the monstrous and the human, inviting audiences to empathise with his pain and subsequent actions. The Creature is depicted as vulnerable and innocent — a child to be shaped by the world around him. Although his sincerity and naivety are gradually corrupted by the violence he both witnesses and endures, he continues to yearn for love, tenderness, and acceptance from his creator, who, until his deathbed, shuns and despises him.
Familial abuse and cyclical violence emerge as central themes, alongside the dangers of hubris and greed eclipsing moral conscience — ideas reinforced through del Toro’s storytelling, visual symbolism, and religious imagery. The director’s signature style is on full display, as is his taste for horror as poetry, evident in the terrifying distortion of Victor’s guardian angel, the violence of Victor’s obsession set against the backdrop of the Crimean War, and the uncanny resemblance between Elizabeth Harlander and the late Baroness Claire Frankenstein. Victor’s infatuation with Elizabeth carries faintly incestuous undertones and suggests an Oedipal complex, echoing the unresolved trauma of his mother’s sudden death. Yet at its core, the story is a father–son tragedy: Victor, repelled by his own creation, abandons it to die, repeating the cold cruelty he once suffered and reflecting the neglect he endured from his own father. Nevertheless, forgiveness emerges in a final, tender moment between Victor and the Creature, encapsulating quiet tragedy through the scene’s literary-inflected dialogue.
Del Toro packs an astonishing amount into the film’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime, though this density occasionally disrupts its pacing, particularly in the exposition, which feels somewhat prolonged, and the final act, where the ending seems rushed. The narrative gains momentum once the Creature is introduced, but the uneven pacing may leave viewers slightly disoriented. One wishes for greater nuance in Victor’s revelation and the Creature’s forgiveness — moments that might have benefitted from being fully realised on screen rather than largely conveyed through narration. Furthermore, while the film’s strong thematic focus is compelling, it occasionally comes at the expense of emotional subtlety and character depth.
Overall, the film excels in its ability to captivate, and effectively establishes the Gothic through its evocative score, meticulously crafted sets, and breathtaking cinematography. The film bears the unmistakable imprint of del Toro’s creative vision, and his ability to humanise monstrosity and find beauty in the grotesque is both haunting and profoundly affecting — a testament to his empathy for the Gothic tragedy. While it may not fully engage with Shelley’s original question of whether humanity should “play God”, Frankenstein’s exploration of nature versus nurture and the enduring trauma of childhood abuse remains equally enthralling.
Frankenstein was released in the UK on the 17th of October 2025.
Edited by Hannah Tang, Co-Editor of Film & TV
