Apr 061931
 
five reels

In a near fevered state, Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) has abandoned his upper-class lifestyle, his fiancée Elizabeth (Mae Clarke), and medical school to carry out secret experiments aided only by the hunchback Fritz (Dwight Frye). His goal is to create a living creature from corpses, which he succeeds in doing the night he is visited by Elizabeth, a family friend named Victor Moritz (John Boles), and his old medical professor, Doctor Waldman (Edward Van Sloan). When the creature (Boris Karloff) is mistreated and abandoned by its creator, it breaks free, and death and panic follow.

Based loosely on Mary Shelley’s novel via Peggy Webling’s stage play, Frankenstein chops away much of the book, changing names, and altering the creature from an intelligent entity to a savage innocent. It’s best to take the movie on its own merits, and on its own merits, it’s the most influential horror film (talkie) of all time. It created the mad scientist sub-genre, massively expanded the use of German expressionism in film, created the iconic flat-headed, bolt-necked monster, and along with Dracula, brought horror films to mainstream audiences. And it’s as good as it is important.

Much of the credit goes to director James Whale, with an assist by art director Charles Hall. The film exists in a never-never land. The German town, in daylight, is one step away from our world. It’s a little too jam-packed, a little too sharp, but it’s close to reality. But night is a different matter. Here the world is strange, with rarely a straight line or level surface to be found. The graveyard looks like it exploded. Statues are off-kilter and seem as likely to celebrate death as life. Frankenstein’s abandoned tower was designed by a mad man: stairs lead nowhere; distances are nonsensical; shadows are long and thick and may or may not have a source; walls are too close and ceilings too high. Most memorable is the laboratory, with its Tesla coils (one said to have been made by Nikola Tesla) and rising table. Much of the equipment in the set was saved and used decades later for Mel Brook’s Young Frankenstein.

Most of the remaining credit goes to Karloff’ and make-up master Jack Pierce. The creature is a thing of glory. Others may have matched Pierce’s skill, but no one has touched his artistry. He created the looks of Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster, the Mummy, the Bride of Frankenstein, Ygor, and the Wolf Man, and Frankenstein’s Monster was his greatest achievement. It didn’t hurt that Karloff had such an expressive face, and also removable bridgework so his cheeks could look hollow. Acting through that makeup, and the weighty costume, would be more than most could manage (as so many future films would show), but Karloff excelled at it. He doesn’t speak (in this film), but he doesn’t need to as I know exactly how he feels, how he longs, and how he suffers. Colin Clive and Edward Van Sloan overplay their parts, but Karloff is perfect.

Frankenstein is a movie at war with itself, at least if you don’t look too hard. The plot’s message is very clear: Do not meddle in the things that are God’s, and anything that changes the status quo are God’s. Such attempts lead to pain, suffering, and death. Even attempting such actions is both a sign of, and results in, mental illness. That’s a pretty stiff conservative message. Plus there’s the abnormal brain, giving us a division in our culture between the good people and the criminal ones.

But Whale’s sympathies lie in a different direction. He seems to be yelling around that message that no, the world is weird and wonderful, and mainly wonderful when you make it as weird as possible. Most of that conservative talk, including everything about abnormal brains, comes from Doctor Waldman, and he’s an unlikable ass. And doing things his way doesn’t work out well for him. Then there is Henry, who is a nutcase at the beginning, but he’s a bold, interesting, strong nutcase. When he gives up his wild ways, he becomes empty and weak, and nearly as unlikable as Waldman. All of the characters representing good, wholesome society are drab. No wonder Elizabeth fell for Henry over the namby-pamby Victor Moritz. And Elizabeth herself, while being beautiful and loyal, is a drag. Would anyone choose to hang out at a dinner party with Elizabeth and Victor and the reformed Henry over the insane fun of the laboratory?

Though it’s with the Monster that the moral really is set. Death and suffering do not come innately from the creature, who is clearly a sensitive soul. It was not breaking the laws of God that caused the problems; it was not taking responsibility for what you do. Henry abandons the Monster after he’s had his fun of creation into the hands of moralists like Walden and sadists like Fritz. He created life, and then didn’t care for it, teach it, give it hope. Whale’s message isn’t subtle, but many have missed it. The lesson is that new, bold steps are what makes us human and worthwhile, and our failure to act responsibly with the results of our steps is what makes us fools.

It was followed by Bride of Frankenstein (1935), Son of Frankenstein (1939), Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man (1943), House of Frankenstein (1944), and House of Dracula (1945).

Back to Mad ScientistsBack to Classic Horror