Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025) is a haunting and visually spectacular reimagining of Mary Shelley’s seminal novel, deftly balancing gothic horror, poignant human drama, and lush cinematic craftsmanship. Set against the grim backdrop of 1857 England and the Crimean War, the film delves deep into themes of creation, obsession, and the ethical boundaries of science, while also experimenting with the emotional complexities of both Victor Frankenstein and his Creature.
Del Toro’s direction is poised and assured, reflecting his signature flair for fantasy that is both eerie and beautiful. The film opens in the Arctic, a striking and icy landscape that sets the tone for a story of isolation, alienation, and man’s hubris. It uses a frame narrative where Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) recounts the chain of catastrophic events that led him to create his “monster” (Jacob Elordi), providing a layered storytelling approach that enriches the narrative depth.
Visually, Frankenstein is a sumptuous feast. The production design captures the Victorian era with meticulous attention to detail—everything from the creaking Gothic labs filled with archaic scientific equipment to the grim battlefield scenes brimming with anatomical horrors. The mix of practical effects and CGI is seamless, especially in depicting the Creature’s regenerative powers and confrontations, which are impressively visceral without veering into gratuitousness. Alexandre Desplat’s score amplifies the film’s atmosphere by blending melancholic melodies and foreboding undertones, enhancing the emotional stakes and horror.
Oscar Isaac’s portrayal of Victor Frankenstein grounds the film in a complex blend of brilliance, arrogance, and torment. Isaac navigates the balancing act between genius and madness with remarkable nuance, showing Victor as a tragic figure whose moral blindness leads to devastating consequences. Opposite him, Jacob Elordi’s Creature is far more than a mere monster; Elordi infuses the role with raw vulnerability, pain, and a simmering rage. The Creature’s journey from innocent being to a tormented outcast is one of the film’s most compelling arcs, allowing audiences to empathize with a protagonist often reduced to a trope of horror.
Supporting performances add robust layers to the film’s fabric. Mia Goth as Elizabeth showcases determination and empathy that starkly contrasts with Victor’s obsession, while Christoph Waltz delivers a quietly commanding presence as Frankenstein’s mentor, grounding the story’s ethical dilemmas in a more classical, rational light.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is how it explores the ethical and philosophical quandaries born from the act of creation. Del Toro does not shy away from presenting the ramifications of Victor’s unchecked ambition; the Creature’s existence becomes a mirror reflecting human cruelty, neglect, and the desire for acceptance. The film also extends the original story by weaving subtle Christian symbolism and theological undertones, which enrich the thematic complexity but occasionally risk feeling heavy-handed.
Narratively, the film sometimes grapples with pacing issues. At nearly two and a half hours, certain segments, especially in the middle act, meander and slow the momentum. While the atmospheric buildup is palpable, the storyline occasionally relies on familiar tropes—such as the tragic monster and the doomed creator—without fully subverting expectations. However, the emotional payoff and the moral questions raised largely compensate for these pacing flaws.
The screenplay shines when delving into the psychological effects of creation on both creator and creation. Dialogues are often poetic, filled with existential reflections that elevate Frankenstein beyond a conventional horror movie into a meditative tragedy. Yet, some character motivations could have been more fleshed out, leaving moments where the audience may crave greater clarity, particularly regarding the Creature’s rapidly evolving cognition and awareness.
In conclusion, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025) stands as a mesmerizing, richly layered cinematic achievement that reinvigorates a gothic classic with careful artistry and emotional depth. Its visual opulence and powerful performances drive a narrative that probes important questions about humanity, responsibility, and identity. Though slightly weighed down by its length and occasional narrative predictability, the film’s evocative storytelling and imaginative production design confirm del Toro’s stature as a master of modern gothic cinema.
For those who appreciate profound adaptations of literary classics brought to life with artistry and heart, Frankenstein (2025) offers a compelling journey into one of literature’s most enduring tales of creation and consequences. This film is not just a horror story; it is a thoughtful exploration of what it means to be human, seen through the eyes of both the monstrous and the creator.