Get ready to see Mary Shelley’s iconic tale like never before—Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is here, and it’s a jolt to the system. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is this a reinvention of the classic, or a deeply personal reinterpretation? Del Toro, who has called Frankenstein “the quintessential teenage book,” has spent a lifetime obsessing over the story, and his Netflix adaptation is anything but a typical monster flick. Instead of flipping the script entirely, he dives into themes he’s explored throughout his career: beauty in darkness, the corruption of innocence, and the fraught relationship between creator and creation. And this is the part most people miss—it’s not just about the monster; it’s about what it means to play God and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
Del Toro’s signature style is on full display, transforming a 200-year-old story into something uniquely his own. The film is a visual feast, from its haunting dream imagery to its meticulously designed sets and costumes. Even the smallest details, like the creature’s geometric scars, feel both plausible and fantastical, blending the familiar with the unexpected. But don’t let the aesthetics distract you—this is a story that digs deep into the human condition.
At its core, the narrative remains faithful to Shelley’s original. Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac), a brilliant but egomaniacal scientist, becomes obsessed with conquering death after the loss of his mother. His theatrical experiments—reanimating a ragged torso—horrify most, but they catch the eye of Harlander (Christoph Waltz), a wealthy arms dealer who funds his research. Here’s the bold question: Is Victor a visionary or a madman? The film doesn’t shy away from portraying his mania, from his cold upbringing to his relentless pursuit of perfection. His creation, a towering, stitched-together man (Jacob Elordi), is both a marvel and a tragedy, and the moment he comes to life still feels miraculous, even when you know it’s coming.
But the real heart of the story lies in the relationship between Victor and his creature. Victor, a deeply flawed ‘father,’ chains his creation in a basement, frustrated by its slow development. The creature, a gothic Wolverine with healing powers, struggles to understand the world—and his only word for a long time is ‘Victor.’ And this is where it gets emotional: When Victor rejects his creation, blowing up the lab in a desperate attempt to destroy it, the creature is cast into a harsh, unforgiving world. From there, the story shifts to his perspective, and it’s devastating. Despite his gentle nature, society abandons him because of his appearance, leaving him to seek revenge on the man who gave him life—and then took it away.
What sets del Toro’s Frankenstein apart is its unflinching exploration of parenthood. Victor is a terrible father, caring more about his creation’s potential to validate his work than about the creature itself. When things don’t go as planned, he abandons it, leaving the creature to grapple with his existence and search for meaning in his suffering. Here’s the thought-provoking question: Can a monster ever truly escape its creator’s shadow? The relationship between Victor and his creature is both heartbreaking and surprisingly touching, culminating in a finale that will leave you questioning the nature of humanity.
Every element of the film serves this theme. Oscar Isaac’s natural charisma makes Victor both compelling and infuriating, while Jacob Elordi delivers a transformative performance, evolving from a wide-eyed child to a tragic beast. The creature’s design is unlike anything we’ve seen before, and the film’s visuals—from the elaborate costumes to the eerie coffins—are nothing short of stunning. It’s clear why this project took so long to come to life; every detail feels intentional, stitching together familiar elements into something alive and new.
Frankenstein arrives in select theaters on October 17th and begins streaming on Netflix on November 7th. Whether you’re a longtime fan of the story or new to Shelley’s masterpiece, del Toro’s take is sure to spark conversation. So, here’s the final question: Does this adaptation honor the original, or does it go too far in reimagining it? Let us know in the comments—we’re eager to hear your thoughts.
