Venice Film Festival 2025 | Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein: Creator, Creature, and the Concept of God
Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a strange odyssey that seeks to retell Mary Shelley’s story from a new perspective, distinct from previous cinematic versions. It is a monumental work indebted to Coppola’s Dracula and, on the other hand, a tribute to Jean Cocteau’s masterpiece Beauty and the Beast—including the death scene of Elizabeth, meticulously designed to mirror the analogous scene in Cocteau’s film—while also bearing traces of del Toro’s earlier works, particularly Pan’s Labyrinth, where, consciously or unconsciously, Frankenstein’s creature sometimes even visually echoes the legendary being from that film.
Yet, while the film overtly pays homage to cinema history from the perspective of a cinephile, the filmmaker’s signature is less pronounced than in his previous masterpieces. In other words, del Toro—consciously or unconsciously—appears to have acquiesced to mainstream audience expectations, attempting to satisfy them, which slightly dilutes his personal stylistic imprint.
Del Toro, however, emphasizes the romantic layer of the film, which drives much of the story. This is simultaneously the film’s strength and weakness: its strength lies in providing a fresh take on a familiar narrative, and its weakness emerges when the filmmaker indulges in sentimental scenes that are arguably unnecessary, such as Elizabeth’s death or the creature’s final dialogue with Frankenstein, which occasionally veers into melodrama.
Nevertheless, the film is filled with grand, meticulously crafted sequences that fully immerse the viewer. It demonstrates its cinematic power, leaving audiences awe-struck. Beyond its visual spectacle, the film excels in storytelling, guiding the viewer into the heart of a strange narrative that compels attention. This is no small feat, given the story’s familiarity: del Toro reinterprets a well-known tale in a way that makes the audience feel as if they are experiencing it for the first time, keeping them anticipating each new scene. From the opening—where Frankenstein’s creature attacks a wrestler trapped in ice—the narrative gradually unfolds Victor Frankenstein’s story. The film takes its time, exploring the protagonist’s adolescence and his relationship with his father in detail. Consequently, unlike prior adaptations, the film focuses more on Frankenstein himself than on his creation, at least until near the end: a doctor striving to step into God’s shoes and create an immortal being. The audience gradually aligns with Victor’s desires and intentions, but after the creature comes to life, a strange distance emerges, prompting reflection on the nature of humanity: who is truly human—Victor or his creation? The film wrestles with this question without descending into didacticism, seeking its own answer. Victor’s final dialogue with his dying brother challenges the apparent roles of Frankenstein and his creature, effectively exchanging their positions.
In del Toro’s film, Frankenstein’s creature is essentially a reflection of Victor himself. In the post-creation scene, the being even calls itself Victor. Throughout the film, Victor does not confront an independent monster; he grapples with the monster within—his greed, obsession with immortality, and desire for that which is not his, including Elizabeth. When Elizabeth rejects his love, he burns his castle and his creation out of jealousy. Thus, it is his inner monster that seizes Elizabeth’s affection, not Victor himself. From this point, the film explores a central paradox: the complexity of human desire and the perennial quest for immortality, intertwined with love and possessiveness, a deeply contradictory tension.
In the final section, narrated by the creature, the film confronts the concept of evil. Observing villagers shooting wolves attacking sheep, the creature realizes that the wolf does not kill the sheep out of hatred, nor the villagers out of moral disdain—they act simply because “it must be done.” Here, the film touches on one of its main themes: religion. Like the original story, del Toro’s adaptation probes creation and the complex interplay of love and hatred between creator and creature. Consequently, without overtly emphasizing this theme, the film becomes a challenging meditation on the concept of God and divine intention.
Venice Film Festival 2025