Forget every dusty B-movie memory. Forget the cheap thrills and rubber masks. Director Guillermo del Toro has resurrected Mary Shelley’s gothic nightmare, not just with a defibrillator, but with a lightning strike of pure, visceral cinematic poetry.
Frankenstein (2025) is not merely a horror film; it is a grand, decaying, and heartbreaking opera that dares to ask who, or what, is truly monstrous in this unforgiving world. From its jaw-dropping production design to performances that will haunt your sleep, this is the kind of prestige horror event that will be dissected, celebrated, and feared for years to come.
The film plunges us headfirst into the Arctic wastes, where an obsessive pursuit is nearing its breaking point. On a ship trapped in the crushing ice, an injured and desperate man, Dr Victor Frankenstein, begins to recount a history stained in ambition and blood.
His tale, unfolding in lush, feverish flashbacks, details a quest to conquer death itself, a defiance of natural law fueled by ego and genius. He succeeded, forging a new life from the remains of the old. But this act of creation was immediately followed by a profound, gut-wrenching rejection. What followed was a spiral of flight and devastating retribution.
We are given fleeting, nightmarish glimpses: an isolated, towering laboratory crackling with unholy energy; a first, monstrously beautiful breath; a tender, terrified connection tragically severed; and then, the inevitable, widening gyre of vengeance.
Who is the hunter and who is the hunted? And what horrors did this abandoned creature witness in the cold, uncaring world before he learned the language of pain? Del Toro doesn’t rush the answers.
He allows the suffocating tension to build, revealing just enough to keep you on the edge of your seat, praying for the end but desperately needing to see how such a beautiful, awful tragedy concludes. It’s a plot that moves with the inevitability of fate, and it’s absolutely electrifying.
What Works✅
- A Gothic Visual Feast: Every single frame is a work of art. The costumes, the set design, particularly Frankenstein’s immense, baroque laboratory, ooze atmosphere. It’s a tactile, lived-in world dripping with Victorian dread and beautiful, grotesque detail.
- Oscar Isaac’s Terrifying Ambition: Isaac delivers a stunningly complex performance as Victor. He avoids the “mad scientist” caricature, presenting instead a man whose overwhelming genius and devastating pride are a subtler yet far more destructive form of madness.
- The Creature’s Heartbreaking Humanity: Jacob Elordi’s portrayal of the Creature is nothing short of transformative. He captures a raw, childlike vulnerability and sensitivity that makes his inevitable rage and loneliness utterly devastating. He is a monster only in form, a victim whose story is the true, beating heart of the film.
- Philosophical Depth: Unlike most horror films, this movie actually has something profound to say. It delves deeply into themes of parenthood, generational abuse, and the cost of playing God, elevating the material far beyond simple shock value.
- Masterful Pacing: The film utilizes a two-chapter structure, telling the story first through Victor’s eyes and then the Creature’s, which provides a dynamic narrative rhythm. The shift in perspective is a gut-punch that reframes everything you thought you knew.
Where It Falls Short❌
- Some CGI Over-Reliance: While the Creature’s practical makeup is brilliant, a few of the more expansive, high-budget sequences rely too heavily on polished CGI that, occasionally, undercuts the earthy, gothic feel of the rest of the film.
- Secondary Characters Feel Underserved: Given the intense focus on the creator and his creation, several supporting roles, even those crucial to the plot, feel somewhat rushed or underdeveloped, existing primarily to serve the central conflict.
- Pacing in the Second Act: The Creature’s personal journey, while emotionally powerful, occasionally drags its feet. A brief tightening of the runtime in this segment could have amplified the relentless feeling of his tragic pursuit.
The Final Verdict🎯 4/5
Frankenstein (2025) is an adaptation so confident, visually stunning, and emotionally resonant that it manages the impossible: it feels definitive. Guillermo del Toro has successfully fused the macabre romance of the Gothic with the existential terror of early science fiction, creating a film that is as gorgeous as it is profoundly disturbing.
This is a story about a scientist’s hubris, yes, but more importantly, it is a tragedy about an abandoned son and a plea for empathy in the face of difference. It is a stunning achievement in both horror and drama, a work that finds the painful beauty in the monstrous. It will chill you to the bone and break your heart in the same breath.
