Filming Frankenstein

Boris Karloff played the monster with such pathos that he (and Jack Pierce’s makeup) influenced all versions of Frankenstein that followed.

Filming Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: A Modern Prometheus has always proven formidable. The original 1818 edition has 258 pages. These are divided into 23 chapters which were originally published in three volumes. Given its complex themes of hubris, free will, science, nature, loneliness, abandonment — and more — it is no wonder that adaptations to film have, for the most part, fallen short of the expectations of audiences. How do you have a typical ninety-minute to two-hour movie accurately capture all that Shelley packed into her Gothic novel? Much of the disappointment for purists wanting the novel adapted to screen has to do with the accuracy of depicting an intelligent creature philosophizing about its nature. But does that make for compelling drama?

THE PROMISE OF DEL TORO

Guillermo del Toro’s upcoming Netflix adaptation of the novel once showed great promise as a faithful adaptation, but now fans aren’t quite so sure.

Due to finish up principal photography this month and set for a 2025 release, del Toro’s film was at first expected to be heavily influenced by Frank Darabont’s original script* for Kenneth Branagh’s MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN (1994). It’s a script Branagh pretty much abandoned as he wildly deviated from the novel in many places, resulting in a severely flawed, but ambitious work. But it was a literate script.

For his adaptation, del Toro told JoBlo.com back in 2007 that he wanted to make a “Miltonian tragedy” — appropriate as Paradise Lost heavily influenced Shelley (she even has the Creature read it as one of the four prized books in his possession). If true, then del Toro would be on the right track to get at the heart of the tragic tale where one man’s drive to become God drives his creation to identify with both the innocence of Adam and Eve, and Satan’s destructive drive to be free. As much as he is a monster, Frankenstein’s creation is an anti-hero (more than mere antagonist), and that’s where most adaptations fail.

But — to many a purist’s concern — there are indications that, in addition to the traditional tale of man creating man, del Toro will introduce the character of Dr. Pretorius (well, re-introduce in a sense, as a version of him was first introduced in Universal’s BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN [1932]) who will be seeking out the creature in order to continue Victor’s experiments. Certainly, this is NOT in the novel, and Pretorius, in his previous incarnation, was something of an oddball and somewhat sinister antagonist.

MINDLESS MONSTERS

Pushing aside Edison Studios’ 14 minute silent film from 1910. (with a hideous freak of a monster without much of a mind) it is Universal Studio’s FRANKENSTEIN (1931) against which most adaptations are measured. Karloff plays the creature with great pathos in the seminal offering from Universal, but here, and in the sequel, BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935), director James Whale makes his monster (for the most part) mute and a child (or at least childlike), thus depriving it of having a fully fleshed out character. Reduced to a lumbering boogeyman in Universal’s many sequels, there is little character to the character beyond the audience’s sympathies and later, with films like ABBOT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948), its laughter.

Christoper Lee’s monster in Hammer’s adaptation was a mindless killer with few moments that elicited any pity. But Peter Cushing’s Frankenstein was worse!

Hammer Studios takes the monstrous monster motif much further in their CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957) where Christoper Lee, in grotesque makeup, is, for the most part, a mindless killer. It does, however, have one of the finest Victor Frankensteins in all of cinema, Peter Cushing. But its franchise, too, suffers from eventually reducing the creature to one-note killing machine. What Hammer does extremely well is make clear that their Victor Frankenstein is even more the monster than his creation. But that takes these adaptations even further away from the source material, with the motif of a doppelganger — in a philosophical and psychological entanglement with its creator — at its center.

SERVING MANY MASTERS

By the nineteen seventies — and for decades following — Frankenstein adaptations ran the gamut from the sadly melodramatic (FRANKENSTEIN: THE TRUE STORY [1973]) to the brilliantly comedic (YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN [1974]) to the story behind the story, and everything in between.

1973’s FRANKENSTEIN: THE TRUE STORY, a teleplay in two parts, may be the first adaptation to make some claim on getting close to the source material. But in much the same way Dracula has been adapted, character names and elements of plot are mixed up; there’s even a bit of The Picture of Dorian Gray with the creature starting life as quite attractive and getting uglier as the story progresses. And while it stands on its own as an interesting story, much as it tries to pass itself off as Shelley’s story, it isn’t. It is, however, many a fan’s favorite, and the closest in spirit to the novel up until that time.

1974’s YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN boldly makes no such claim, as it is an homage to all that was Universal horror, plus a subversion of audience expectation, and just downright hilarious. And while there is a cultural significance to a comedic Frankenstein, it gets us further away from Shelley.

Some filmmakers of the nineteen eighties could be said to have returned to the source. But that didn’t translate into filmic versions of the novel. Those behind GOTHIC (1986), and HAUNTED SUMMER (1988), for example, would eschew the book and instead find turn to tales of Mary, Percy, and Lord Byron (with others in tow) on their trip to Geneva. A game of telling ghost stories sparks the idea for the novel, but little else is of note in those two terrible films. More interesting is 1988’s ROWING WITH THE WIND where the creature actually materializes as a manifestation of May Shelley’s darkest thoughts, but the creature here becomes little more than a conjured demon of the mind.

In 1992, Frankenstein returned to television. Starring Randy Quaid as the monster, it, more than any previous version explored the psychic bond between the doctor and his highly intelligent creation. But there’s a reason it holds just a 17% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. It is a snooze fest, and suggesting some sort of telepathic link between creator and creation can only be pushed so far before it becomes silly. The doctor and the monster are father and son, God and his creation, not separated twins.

Robert De Niro’s Creature was horribly disfigured, and was a threatening presence in MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN (1994).

A return to the source material as potential for real drama (and big screen horror, or so it was sold) was evident in the aforementioned MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN (1994).  But rather than stick to that source, director Kenneth Branagh instead approaches caricature with his adaptation. His scenery-chewing portrayal of Victor is a spectacle to behold, and even Robert De Niro as a unique monster that is equal parts an innocent and a force for revenge can’t save the film from becoming an overwrought mess. It’s histrionic filmmaking in the service of its director. And while it is the most ambitious of any Frankenstein adaptation to date, Branagh’s efforts to have his production be the biggest production of the novel ever attempted is all over the place. The pieces ultimately don’t come together very well. But it worth the watch, if only because its reach exceeds its grasp.

Ten years later, 2004’s FRANKENSTEIN, a Hallmark teleplay (of all of things!), faithfully sticks to the plot of the novel and carries real emotional weight. Here, the creature is very much the philosopher, and the producers get extra credit for depicting a monster that is accurately androgynous with long dark hair and yellowish skin. Unfortunately, it is even more boring than the 1992 television production, and comes off as one would expect a Hallmark movie would. Turns out a creature too hung up on the human condition makes for little on-screen action.

A decade later, VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN (2014) with James McAvoy and Daniel Radcliffe took an entirely different approach, telling the tale from the assistant Igor’s perspective. But since Victor never had an assistant in the novel, we’re even further from the source material. That same year, I, FRANKENSTEIN took the story in the silliest of directions where the monster fights demons.

BOTH MAN AND MONSTER
Showtime’s PENNY DREADFUL has a surprisingly accurate Creature that captures much of the spirit of Mary Shelley’s novel.

Oddly enough, the most faithful adaptation of Frankenstein may not be an attempt to film the novel at all. Showtime network’s PENNY DREADFUL series (2014-2016) captures the spirit of Shelley’s work. Victor is arrogant, and viciously cold towards his creation, but he is not a madman hell bent on being God. The creature (not only physically accurate as he is in the novel) can think and reason, feel abandonment and longing, but also be quite ruthless and vengeful,  His determination not to be alone leads the audience to feel not only pathos, but also dread at the lengths to which he will go to have his creator make him a bride. He is both man and monster, as is his creator.

Perhaps the novel then is too unwieldy and cerebral to capture on film. Maybe it is the spirit of the characters that most needs to be depicted, and not in some cut up, abbreviated version of the novel where some but not all characters are intact. An altogether new approach like PENNY DREADFUL may ironically be most faithful to Shelley’s vision as it is not inhibited by it.

Which gives del Toro’s adaptation a chance to prove itself among the best of Frankenstein adaptations. Not just a retelling assembled from pieces of what came before, but a new creation that none will feel the need to abandon soon after its release.

 

*See Movieweb.com’s “Shawshank Redemption Director Describes This as ‘The Best Script I Ever Wrote & the Worst Movie I’ve Ever Seen'” for more about Darabont and the movie that could have been.

The Terrible Twos: Twins in Horror Movies

Twins have long fascinated humankind since the beginning of time. At the center of the cosmology of Zurvanite branch of Zoroastrianism, for example, twins Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu were eternal representatives of good and evil. Among Native American creation myths,  the Oneida told of a right-handed twin that was good and considered the creator of all things, and a left-handed twin born bad (literally, as he came out of his mother’s armpit!). Indeed, twins of many cultures have often been portrayed as good and evil. No wonder then that myths of good and bad twins have been passed down through the centuries to the point where genre films (and television) have exploited the well-known trope. Such depictions are especially effective in horror movies — for it is there that the bad twins are at their worst and good ones at their most innocent. But it is also in horror films that the trope can be best subverted.

[WARNING: FULL OF SPOILERS]

BLOOD AND THE BLOODTHIRSTY
grady-twin-sisters
Kubrick most likely intended the Grady sisters to be “doubles” reflecting other doubles throughout 1980’s THE SHINING.

“Real” twins in horror film are relative rare. Once you remove those not absorbed in utero (the monsters), the doppelgangers (supernatural mirrors), the clones (true duplicates) — or just the downright creepy twins with little backstory (Lisa and Louise Burns’ Grady Sisters) of Stanley Kubrick’s THE SHINING (1980)  [which are not twins in the novel!]) — you are left with only a handful of films that truly treat twins as fully-fleshed out characters whose distinct personalities serve to make the familial bond a complex and often troublesome one. One that is often violent.

Take, for example, three films from very different eras that show the familial bond as being very different when drawn along gender lines. Both male and female twins can be bloodthirsty, but with horror films, it can manifest in very different ways.

There are outright killers and committers of fratricide as in THE BLACK ROOM (1935) where Baron Gregor (Boris Karloff) — wuth an inheritance at stake — dispatches his sibling, Anton (also Karloff) and tries to take over his brother’s life out of jealousy and greed. Were it not for a dog who well knows his master, the Baron might have succeeded. A true scoundrel, he is dispatched by the same blade he himself used to kill his brother. As with most tales of evil twins, good triumphs in the end, if only to reveal the deception and restore the good twin’s reputation.

Twins of Evil (1971)
Twins of Evil (British one-sheet poster). 1971.

But sometimes, a good reputation is a puritanical shackle — at least when the double standard of how “good” women should behave  is at issue — as it is in Hammer‘s TWINS OF EVIL (1971). Here, real-life twins (and Playboy playmates) Mary and Madeleine Collinson star as sisters whose heavy-handed witch-hunting uncle (Peter Cushing) drives one of them, the more adventurous Freida (Madeleine), into the arms of the local aristocrat, Count Karnstein, a vampire. Up to no good with black mass and ritual sacrifice, the Count (who oddly resembles Jimmy Fallon) turns Freida into one of the undead — and she seems to rather enjoy it. Innocent Maria (Mary) is talked into covering up for Freida’s nocturnal excursions by pretending to be her (a trope in and of itsef), but it is not long before the real Freida is captured and jailed. Meanwhile, the male protagonist, Anton, falls for Mary, but when the Count frees Freida and she passes herself off as Maria, all manner of evil machinations ensue. A highly sexualized Freida tries to seduce Anton (to no avail, as he cannot see her reflection in a mirror!), Maria, mistaken for Freida, is almost burned at the stake, and the plot then speeds toward a conclusion where Anton seems to know a lot about vampires, and evil is thwarted: Freida is beheaded, the Count is impaled, and Mary and Anton live happily ever after. As is the case with women in many a Hammer film (and indeed, just many many horror movies), (sexual) transgressions are punished, and purity, rewarded.

SISTERS (1972) one sheet poster.

A very different take on a killer twin would come one year later with Brian de Palma’s SISTERS (1972). Here, Margot Kidder plays identical twins Danielle and Dominique.  The former is a flirtatious model. The latter, a sadistic killer. But it’s not that simple; this isn’t clearly-defined good vs. evil. Turns out they were once conjoined. And Brian de Palma uses a split screen to great effect in telling this story of a physical, and, ultimately, psychological split. For it is eventually revealed that while they were conjoined, a shy Dominique was a burden to her more outgoing sister, Danielle. The latter drugged her sister in order to have uniterupted sex with her lover, Emil. But when Danielle becomes pregnant, Dominique freaks out, and stabs Danielle in the stomach. Danielle loses the baby, the two must undergo an emergency surgical separation because of the lood loss, and Dominique dies. All of this is told by Emil in flashback, who then reveals that Danielle’s personality had split due to the trauma, and that she is now both sisters. Whenever Danielle has a sexual encounter, the murderous “Dominique” personality takes over.  It’s a psychological split following a physcial one. Lines intersect, but they are still drawn.

But what happens when the lines are made gray? When the relationship between twins is more symbotic? Then you have something like David Cronenberg’s 1988 masterful DEAD RINGERS.

MORE TRAGIC THAN HORRIFIC
Dead Ringers
Dead Ringers (British one-sheet poster). 1988.

DEAD RINGERS is the story of identical twins Elliot and Beverly Mantle (played by Jeremy Irons). They are gynecologists who operate a highly successful clinical practice that specializes in treating fertility problems. Elliot is the more confident and charismatic of the two. He regularly beds women who come to clinic. And as he tires of these women, he passes them on to his shy brother Beverly. The women are unaware of the switch.

Things get more complicated when famous actress Claire Niveau (Geneviève Bujold) gets involved with Eliot, who then convinces Beverly to sleep with her as well, as him. Claire learns of the deception, but decides (strangely) to continue a relationship with Beverly. Butwhen  she has to leave town for work, Beverly spirals into severe depression. He begins to abuse drugs, and has delusions of mutant women with deformed genitalia. Convinced that if he commissions a unique (and frightening) set of gynecological instruments, he is certain that he can “cure” these women. But before he can use one of the horrifying devices, he collapses from drug use and exhaustion. Both brothers are suspended from practice.

From there, the film gets even stranger with Beverly cleaning up his act, but then Eliot falling down a depressive hole, locking himself away in the clinic, living a life of squalor and inebriation. Eliot has become the weaker brother, and in the depths of despair, he asks Beverly to “separate the Siamese” twins. Beverly disembowels Eliot using the same type of instrument he intended to use on “mutant women,” and, devastated, dies in his dead brother’s arms.

It is a story of both predation and symbiosis. Of harm and healing. Of pronoia and paranoia. Of twins so entwined that one cannot survive without the other. And the horror of how strong a destructive connection there can be between twins, to the point of inevitable death for both. The trope of the evil twin thus subverted, the movie ends tragically.

BEYOND SUBVERSION
Goodnight Mommy (2014)
Goodnight Mommy (2014). Promotional poster.

Neither good vs. evil nor sympathy for the symbiotic is at play in GOODNIGHT MOMMY (2014). Here, the familial bond between real-life twins Elias and Lukas makes for a united team suspicious of their mother and determined to get at the truth of her bandaged condition following cosmetic facial surgery. Uncharacteristically bad-tempered and mean, the twins’ mother seems not to be the same person she was before the surgery. Believing she is an impostor, the twins turn their suspicion and fear into outright sadism: they tie her to the bed and torture her to get at their truth. Is this really their mother?

Turns out, it is. But all is not what it seems when it is revealed by the mother that Lukas died in an accident, and Elias is imagining that his twin brother has been with him the whole time. When Elias challenges her to prove it, all hell breaks lose, mother and son burn in a fire, and the film ends with the reunited ghostly trio standing in a cornfield.

In the end, GOODNIGHT MOMMY is not about a good vs. evil twin, or even a bond between twins that subverts the trope; it is, instead, about whether a parent can trust twins. Are they simply a breed apart?

Perhaps that is what is most unnerving about twins in horror movies.  It is not that twins are Zoroastrianist opposites, or “two bodies, one soul” as the poster for DEAD RINGERS states. It is instead that they simply are. They exist. Born of a single egg and a single sperm that then splits into two embryos, they are just different from the rest of us (unless you are reading this and you’re a twin; in which case, sorry to suggest anything wrong with you). But it’s at that the moment of the split into two that things can go delightfully right (think 1961’s THE PARENT TRAP), or terribly wrong.

In horror films, we all know in which direction things go.