Frankenstein (also known as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein) is a 1994 American horror film directed by Kenneth Branagh and starring Robert De Niro and Branagh himself. It also stars Tom Hulce, Helena Bonham Carter, Ian Holm, John Cleese (Monty Python), Aidan Quinn and Richard Briers. The film was produced on a budget of $45 million and is considered the most faithful film adaptation of Mary Shelley‘s novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. The film opens with a few words by Mary Shelley:
“I busied myself to think of a story which would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature and awaken thrilling horror; one to make the reader dread to look around, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart.”
The story begins in the year 1794. Captain Walton is leading a daring expedition to reach the North Pole. While their ship is trapped in the ice of the Arctic Sea, Walton and his crew discover a man traveling across the Arctic on his own. In the distance, a loud moaning can be heard. When the man sees how obsessed Walton is with reaching the North Pole, he asks, “Do you share my madness?” The man then reveals that his name is Victor Frankenstein and begins his tale…
“The monster has always been the true subject of the Frankenstein story, and Kenneth Branagh’s new retelling understands that. “Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” has all of the usual props of the Frankenstein films, brought to a fever pitch: The dark and stormy nights, the lightning bolts, the charnel houses of spare body parts, the laboratory where Victor Frankenstein stirs his steaming cauldron of life. But the center of the film, quieter and more thoughtful, contains the real story…” Roger Ebert, full review here
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“…Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a work of lavish dedication and skill, yet as soon as the creature is let loose the film becomes rather listless. Branagh, for all his craftsmanship, hasn’t succeeded in tapping the morbid core of the material, the feeling that Victor Frankenstein’s experiment in creating ”life” is really a mask for his obsession with death (indeed, he can no longer tell the difference). The key problem, I dare say, is the director’s performance. He plays Frankenstein with all the spirit he can muster, yet he’s too conventionally engaging — his Victor is a kind of fervid yuppie workaholic who never seems truly possessed of a dark side…” Owen Gleiberman, here
“Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was a worthy attempt to give the story a big-budget makeover but ultimately it collapsed under the weight of its own pretentiousness, and it was further hampered by a lack of frights.” Bruce G Hallenbeck, The Hammer Frankenstein (Hemlock Film Books, 2013)
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