Film Review: Guillermo Del Toro's Frankenstein (9/10)

Jason Diaz
Dec 20, 2025
6 min read

The maestro of monsters has finally released his magnum opus into the wild, and it is a visceral, high-stakes triumph that only he could deliver. Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a gothic horror-drama written, directed, and produced by del Toro himself, starring a powerhouse cast including Oscar Isaac, Jacob Elordi, Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz, and Charles Dance. The film follows the brilliant but ego-shattered Victor Frankenstein as he attempts to conquer death by reanimating a creature made of discarded parts, only to find himself hunted by his own creation across the icy wastes of the Arctic.

It is a haunting, cinematic prayer for the misunderstood, told with the kind of kinetic energy that only a filmmaker obsessed with "the other" can summon.

STORY (2/2)

The story being told here is a radical, two-headed beast that completely revitalizes Mary Shelley’s original 1818 text. Instead of a straightforward linear narrative, del Toro breaks the film into distinct perspectives—first Victor’s, then the Creature’s—which gives the tragedy a full, robust body that most adaptations lack. This delivery method is incredible because it stops the Creature from being just a "thing" in someone else's story and gives him the agency to narrate his own path from abandonment to vengeance. The setting moves from the academic halls of Edinburgh to a remote, gothic tower financed by a shadowy arms dealer, finally culminating in a frozen Arctic shipwreck. This shifting landscape impacts the story by reflecting Victor’s own internal isolation and the Creature’s desperate search for a place to simply exist without being hunted.

Complexity is handled with a masterful touch; while the film deals with heavy themes of generational abuse and scientific sacrilege, the emotional beats remain accessible and hit hard. Del Toro isn't interested in making a clinical science-fiction film; he’s making a high-stakes family drama where the "son" happens to be eight feet tall and sewn together. What makes this story distinct is its refusal to let Victor off the hook, portraying his scientific ambition not as noble, but as a direct result of his own trauma at the hands of an imperious father. The pacing keeps you locked in as the narrative mirrors a ticking clock, with each decision leading inevitably toward a collision in the ice. It’s a dense, beautiful story that respects the audience’s intelligence while never losing sight of the primal, kinetic heart of the myth.

VISUALS (2/2)

Visually, the film is a feast of deep, atmospheric dread that only del Toro and cinematographer Dan Laustsen can concoct. The picture quality is exactly the high-level, tactile standard you’d expect from a project of this scale, with every stitch on the Creature’s skin and every rusted gear in the lab looking startlingly real. The film utilizes a unique, impactful color style where a specific shade of "blood-red"—worn by Victor in his gloves and scarf—serves as a constant reminder of the life he has stolen and the mother he has lost. This visual motif is stunning, haunting the frames like a ghost and tying the psychological themes of the movie directly to its aesthetic.

However, we have to talk about the digital elephants in the room. While the practical sets and prosthetic makeup are absolute fire, there were distracting issues with some of the CG animals that appeared during the wilderness and Arctic sequences. These creatures felt a little too animated and unnatural, creating a brief "uncanny valley" effect that pulled me out of the otherwise perfectly grimy, 19th-century setting.

Additionally, while I appreciated the scale, I didn’t particularly love the entire design for Frankenstein the monster. Elordi’s Creature looks a bit too clean and artistically curated—almost like a high-fashion version of a corpse—which felt at odds with the visceral, wet-slop reality of his creation. It’s a beautiful film, but those small visual hiccups are enough to keep it from a perfect score in this department.

SOUND (1/2)

The audio mix in this film is a thick, immersive experience that demands to be heard in a room with a proper surround sound setup. The balance between the deafening roar of the laboratory lightning and the intimate, raspy whispers of the Creature is mostly excellent. You can hear every wet squelch of reanimated tissue and every crack of the Arctic ice, which adds a layer of kinetic reality to the gothic atmosphere. The movie’s surround sound mix is a major benefit here, placing the audience directly inside Victor’s head as his manic energy builds toward the creation scene.

Standout musical moments come from a score that perfectly compliments the film's shifts between operatic horror and quiet, soulful longing. However, there were a few moments where the sound felt slightly unbalanced, with the heavy, thrumming music threatening to drown out some of Mia Goth’s more delicate dialogue. While distracting at times, it doesn't break the film, but it does prevent the audio from being a flawless experience. The score's energy is undeniable, echoing the heartbeat of the Creature as he discovers music for the first time, but a slightly more measured approach in the mix would have helped those character moments breathe. It’s an evocative, powerful soundscape that succeeds in elevating the emotional stakes, even if it occasionally turns the volume up a bit too high on the dread.

CHARACTER (2/2)

This is where the movie truly finds its soul. The character development across the board is savage and deeply explored. Oscar Isaac delivers a believable, all-in performance as a Victor Frankenstein who is less "mad scientist" and more "unrestrained addict," driven by a manic need to fix a broken past. But the real shocker is Jacob Elordi’s Creature. He moves with a tender, infantile vulnerability that is completely heartbreaking, proving that he is one of the most alluring and empathetic monsters in del Toro’s entire filmography. The costume, makeup, and special effects play a massive role here, with the Creature's towering physique and visible scars telling the story of his trauma before he even speaks a word.

Even the supporting cast is handled with incredible care. Christoph Waltz brings a dash of levity as a mentor figure, while Charles Dance is terrifyingly cold as Victor’s father. My only real hurdle was Elizabeth (Mia Goth). In this version, she is reimagined as Victor’s mother and his love interest in a dual-casting choice that is undeniably weird and unsettling. While I didn’t particularly like her as a character—she felt remote and idealized—that reaction is actually a testament to the writing. Her presence is meant to haunt Victor, and Goth’s performance is so interesting that it perks up every scene she’s in. The characters move the story forward with every choice they make, ensuring that the conflict feels earned rather than forced. It is a masterful dissection of performance and makeup coming together to create something that feels truly alive.

FACTOR X (2/2)

I enjoyed every single second of this film, and honestly, that’s the most important metric. Factor X is all about that gut feeling, and my gut says this is the most authentic Frankenstein ever made. It reminds me of the first time I saw Pan’s Labyrinth—that feeling of being in the hands of a storyteller who truly loves the monsters he’s creating. While I’ve mentioned the CG gripes and the polarizing design of the monster, the pure, unironic passion on display here is undeniable. It’s a film that isn't afraid to be weird, Oedipal, and deeply sad all at once, which is a rare thing in the current era of sterile, committee-made blockbusters.

When you compare this to previous versions, like Kenneth Branagh's over-the-top take or the classic James Whale movies, del Toro’s version stands out because it finds the humanity in the horror. It’s a high-stakes emotional gamble that pays off by the end, leaving you staring into the sunrise alongside a monster who has finally found his voice. I found myself wholeheartedly defending the Creature’s choices, which is exactly what a great Frankenstein movie should do. It makes you question who the real monster is, and in 2025, that question feels more relevant than ever. This is a movie with a pulse—fast, irregular, and beautiful.

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a triumphant, high-sincerity return to the roots of gothic horror that puts character depth above all else. While it suffers from some distracting digital effects and a monster design that might not hit the mark for everyone, the storytelling and performances from Isaac and Elordi are absolutely essential. If you loved the atmospheric dread of The Shape of Water or the tragic irony of Pinocchio, this is a mandatory watch. It is currently streaming on Netflix and playing in select theatrical runs, and I highly recommend seeing it on the biggest screen possible to appreciate the sheer scale of the sets. It’s a beautiful, flawed masterpiece that deserves to be celebrated.