Frankenstein (1931)
“Crazy, am I? We'll see whether I'm crazy or not.“
For my first film review I watched Frankenstein. Spoiler alert: it’s really good.
To be fully transparent, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is one of my favorite novels, and I have generally avoided film adaptations of it. I was dreading watching Frankenstein, but I’m delighted to say that I have changed my tune and I cannot wait to watch Bride of Frankenstein here in a couple of weeks.
Immediately I was struck, although not surprised, at how expressionistic the film looks. Director James Whale was influenced by German Expressionism, and reportedly screened Metropolis, Nosferatu, and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari repeatedly. He especially took inspiration from the sets of Dr. Caligari.
James Whale’s direction and Charles D. Hall’s art direction combine to create a film that looks like a silent German horror movie infused with tropes of early 20th century British stage plays (which is exactly Frankenstein is). Some critics at the time panned the fakey sets, but I loved them. The movie (after a weird content warning presented by a tuxedoed man in front of a velvet curtain) opens on a graveyard set in front of a painted cloudy backdrop. Tombstones jut in all directions. The sets may be recycled, but the lived-in feel creates an air naturalism laid onto unrealistic sets, which comes across as uncanny and interesting.
The direction is top notch and there's a reason Universal gave Whale so much agency. Scenes are framed in effective ways—at times the camera is set far away and the sets are huge and swallow the actors. At other times we're tight in on Karloff's face or hand and every movement feels electric. I loved the look of this film and I rewound some scenes just to soak up the image again and again.
James Whale was recommended Karloff for the role of the Monster and loved the actor’s unique appearance and personality. After meeting the actor, Whale sketched how he thought the Monster should look, and Jack Pierce used those drawings as inspiration for the makeup.
The Frankenstein’s Monster character design by Jack Pierce will be in public domain in 2026. According to my research, the makeup was in fact green with purple shading so it would show up appropriately on black and white film. Boris Karloff removed his dental implant to make one cheek look more sunken, and Pierce applied wax to his already-hooded eyelids to make them droop. Whale and Pierce decided to make the head large and deformed to insinuate that brains had been repeatedly installed and removed from the skull. Karloff wore heavy platform shoes and a sort of body brace that made him look larger. Karloff also couldn’t sit down in his costume, so he was given a slant board to prop him up to rest between takes.
Even though I knew exactly what the Monster would look like, I cannot express how cool he looks and how effective the first shot of his face is. The film cuts abruptly, zooming closer and closer on the Monster’s face. I think the sunken cheek adds a facet to the character that makeup alone couldn’t replicate, and the makeup looks more naturalistic than other creature effects I’ve seen in films of the era.
The sticking point for me in this adaptation is the focus on the “criminal brain”. There’s a brief scene where Henry Frankenstein’s mentor lectures a class on the apparent differences between a “normal brain” specimen and the “criminal brain”. Things don’t go poorly because Henry Frankenstein neglects his creation, but because the Monster has a criminal’s brain. Which gets us into some of the uglier philosophies of early 20th century Europe.
To take a slight detour: Cesare Lombroso’s The Criminal Man was published in English in 1911. Lombroso was a criminologist and eugenicist who believed that people’s dispositions were not only inborn, but also reflected in their appearance. Criminals, according to this worldview, are born criminals and their biology reflects an evolutionary failure. As you can probably imagine, these theories were used to bolster fascist beliefs about race. Similar philosophies of the time come up in other literature of the late 19th century such as Jekyll and Hyde and Dorian Gray (which I look forward to writing about in future installments of Horror History).
Interestingly, although I’m sure unintentionally, Frankenstein’s Monster’s appearance is almost exactly in opposition to the criminal physiology that Lombroso wrote about. Lombroso’s criminals have small heads and are short. The hunchback sidekick Fritz actually looks more like a stereotypical Lobroso criminal.
The Monster is scary because he is hulking and seemingly doesn’t understand the world around him. He is much more sympathetic than the criminals that Lombroso wrote about.
I don’t think Frankenstein is a Lombroso text (partially evidenced by the appearance of our Monster), but I think the notions of a “criminal brain” that were tantalizing to 1930s audiences and were rooted in problematic criminal theory of the age that persists today.
The pacing of the film is also rough. They’re adapting a 200+ page novel into a stage play into a 70 minute film. When the pacing is good is when it’s building up to the reveal of Frankenstein’s creation. The Monster doesn’t move until we’re a third of our way into the film. Because audiences would have seen The Monster in the marketing, drawing out that reveal is really effective and cool even in the 21st century.
The pacing suffers the most when we see Henry Frankenstein’s personal life and, unfortunately our leading lady is in the most disruptive scenes. There’s whole scenes of a side plot centering on Elizabeth (Frankenstein’s betrothed) and Frankenstein’s eccentric father trying to find the oft-missing scientist. I think it’s a poor use of this movie's short runtime to watch Elizabeth et al have redundant scenes speculating as to Frankenstein’s whereabouts. These scenes are also disruptive—we see great buildup to the reveal of the living Monster but go on a boring side-quest to watch Elizabeth have a conversation with Baron Frankenstein that is a repeat of two previous scenes where Elizabeth is being pushed aside by her partner.
Frankenstein is also an instance where censorship efforts backfired. Although this is a pre-Hays Code film, many states required that theaters cut a piece of dialogue in which Frankenstein declares “Now I know what it’s like to be god!” and a scene where the Monster tosses a 7 year old girl into a lake.
The moment The Monster tosses little Maria into a lake hits as funny in 2024, but not as goofy as I expected. The shot of Karloff hoisting the girl is comical, but he brings it back with his reaction when the Monster realizes the girl drowned. When the shot of him throwing her is eliminated, audiences saw him sweetly playing with the little girl then, scenes later, a man carries the corpse of the child while weeping. I agree with other film historians that audiences who saw the cut version probably imagined the scene of her death as much more horrifying and violent than the real scene—earlier in the movie he strangled an adult man to death. It seems that censoring a major film didn’t actually make society more moral—who could have guessed.
The final sequences with the mob are scary. I agree with film historian Karina Wilson that it evokes the imagery of lynch mobs. Dogs are barking, people are shouting over each other, and we go to the great Wind Mill set for our final standoff. The mob attacking the mill is really harrowing. Henry Frankenstein’s mannequin body flying off of the mill is a little less harrowing.
I've avoided this film for years because I thought I knew Frankenstein from almost every adaptation that has come along since. I’ve seen Alvin and the Chipmunks Meet Frankenstein a hundred times, so why do I need this? I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this movie. Colin Clive and Boris Karloff are great, the sets are bonkers (affectionate), and the angry mob is more terrifying than I could have imagined. Even though Frankenstein’s Monster differs from the depiction in the novel, Karloff is really sympathetic and interesting to watch. The sort of goofiness I expected here must have come along in later movies and parodies. Despite the dated pacing and simplistic script, this movie slaps.
I highly recommend this if you want to explore James Whale, Universal pictures, early “talking” horror films, or later expressionist horror. Boris Karloff is my crush for this movie—he takes a script that could come across as goofy and makes it affecting. Spoiler alert for upcoming reviews, I think Karloff is great in everything I’ve seen (or heard) him in.
Next week I'll be watching The Old Dark House, also directed by James Whale and starring Boris Karloff with makeup by Jack Pierce. Thank you for reading, and please subscribe for weekly posts delivered to your inbox.
Sources:
Curtis, J. (1982). James Whale. Scarecrow Press.
Frankenstein (1931). FilmSite. (n.d.). https://www.filmsite.org/fran.html
IMDb an Amazon Company. (1931, November 21). Frankenstein. IMDb. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/
IMDb.com an Amazon Company. (n.d.). Frankenstein. IMDb. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/
Lombroso Ferrero, G., & Lombroso, C. (1911). Criminal Man According to the Classification of Cesare Lombroso. G.P. Putnam’s Sons.
Whale, J., Laemmle, C., Fort, Garrett., Faragoh, F. Edwards., Edeson, A., Kolster, Clarence., Hall, C., Karloff, B., Clive, C., Clarke, Mae., Boles, John., Van Sloan, Ed. (Edward), Kerr, F., Frye, D., Belmore, L., Harris, M., Balderston, J. L. (John L., Webling, Peggy., & Shelley, M. W. (1999). Frankenstein (Restored version.). Universal Studios.
Wikipedia contributors. (2024, February 20). Boris Karloff. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 22:01, February 27, 2024, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Boris_Karloff&oldid=1209133901
Wikipedia contributors. (2024, January 26). Frankenstein (1931 film). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 22:01, February 27, 2024, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Frankenstein_(1931_film)&oldid=1199140253