Prepare to have your heart torn apart and stitched back together—Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is not just another monster movie; it’s a hauntingly beautiful masterpiece that breathes new life into a centuries-old tale. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is this the most sympathetic portrayal of the Creature we’ve ever seen, or has del Toro gone too far in humanizing Mary Shelley’s iconic monster? Let’s dive in.
Netflix has unleashed del Toro’s long-awaited vision, a film that feels like a love letter to goth aesthetics and the eternally misunderstood. With countless adaptations of Frankenstein already out there—yes, even Thomas Edison got in on the action in 1910—you’d think the story had been wrung dry. And this is the part most people miss: Del Toro doesn’t just retell the tale; he electrifies it. His script stays faithful to Shelley’s novel while reimagining its characters in ways that are both fresh and deeply moving. The result? A monster movie that’s as much about beauty and tragedy as it is about horror.
Take Jacob Elordi’s Creature, for instance. Towering, hauntingly beautiful, and utterly heartbreaking, this version of the monster is less a brute and more a lost soul. With the help of stunning makeup, Elordi delivers a performance that’s equal parts innocence and anguish. Think of him as a giant, abused puppy, yearning for love in a world that fears him. It’s impossible not to ache for him, and that’s exactly the point. Del Toro’s Creature isn’t just a monster—he’s a mirror reflecting our own capacity for cruelty and compassion.
Controversy alert: While del Toro’s take on the Creature is undeniably sympathetic, his portrayal of Dr. Victor Frankenstein might leave some viewers divided. Played by Oscar Isaac with a mix of foppish arrogance and tortured genius, Victor is the true monster here—a man so obsessed with conquering death that he destroys lives in the process. But del Toro doesn’t stop there. He introduces a vicious cycle of parental abuse, revealing Victor’s own traumatic childhood under the cruel hand of his father (Charles Dance). This adds a layer of psychological depth to the story, but it also raises questions: Is Victor a victim of circumstance, or is he simply perpetuating the cycle of violence? And does this excuse his actions toward the Creature?
The film also introduces an Oedipal twist by casting Mia Goth as both Victor’s deceased mother and Elizabeth, the object of his desire. While this choice adds complexity to Victor’s motivations, it feels slightly underdeveloped. Elizabeth, a curious and sensitive woman initially drawn to Victor’s experiments, ultimately rejects his cruelty. Yet, her connection to Victor could have been explored more deeply, leaving some emotional beats feeling unearned.
Visually, Frankenstein is a feast for the eyes. Del Toro’s signature style—lavish production design, baroque elegance, and a penchant for shadows and candlelight—transforms every frame into a work of art. Blood spreads across fabric like paint, and every room feels like a Gothic cathedral. Cinematographer Dan Laustsen’s vibrant visuals are nothing short of breathtaking, making this one of the most beautiful horror films in recent memory.
But what truly sets this adaptation apart is its emotional core. Elordi’s Creature isn’t just a monster—he’s a symbol of loneliness, longing, and the human desire for connection. Even when he commits acts of violence, del Toro’s script ensures we understand why. This Creature isn’t a mindless beast; he’s a tragic figure, abandoned by his creator and forced to navigate a world that rejects him. Thought-provoking question: Does this portrayal make the Creature too relatable, or does it deepen our understanding of Shelley’s original themes?
Clocking in at 150 minutes, the film occasionally feels its length, particularly in its underdeveloped subplots. Goth’s Elizabeth, for example, deserves more screen time, and her late-film interaction with the Creature feels rushed. Similarly, the relationship between Victor and Elizabeth could have been fleshed out to make their dynamic more compelling. Yet, these flaws don’t detract from the film’s overall impact. With Alexandre Desplat’s soaring score and del Toro’s masterful direction, Frankenstein is a sprawling, epic retelling that feels both familiar and entirely new.
As someone who’s been fascinated by Frankenstein’s Monster since childhood—thanks, Boris Karloff—I can confidently say that Elordi’s portrayal is one of the most unique and relatable interpretations I’ve seen. It’s too early to crown it the definitive version, but it’s a close contender. If you’ve ever felt like an outsider, you’ll find yourself rooting for this Creature, flaws and all.
Final thought: Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein isn’t just alive—it’s thriving. It’s a film that dares to ask: Who is the real monster? And in doing so, it reminds us that the scariest monsters are often the ones we create ourselves. So, what do you think? Is del Toro’s vision a masterpiece, or does it lose something in its attempt to humanize the inhuman? Let’s debate in the comments.
/Film Rating: 9 out of 10
Frankenstein hits select theaters on October 17, 2025, and streams globally on Netflix starting November 7, 2025. Don’t miss it.
