Friday, July 12, 2013

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), directed by James Whale

     This is the first post of a blog I have started, where I discuss films after I watch them, which may or may not be called a review. Since these are all going to be films I've watched for the first time I don't know if the 're-' prefix applies, but whatever. Any sort of serious critical analysis, consistent literary quality and regular update schedule will be attempted but not guaranteed. At the moment we're gonna be seeing basic summary stuff, what I liked and didn't like, usual shit. Obviously I'm not an expert at this stuff (if you couldn't tell from this horrible opening paragraph), so I encourage viewing the movies for yourselves and forming your own opinion. It could be that after watching Random Movie #345A you decided I didn't understand shit all about it, and that's totally okay with me. As long you gain a new experience from it, we both benefit.

    Now let's get started.



     At this stage in the game I don’t think anyone needs to be told the story of Frankenstein. It’s only one of the most popular monster stories in history after all, spawning numerous films , books (looking at you Dean Koontz) and cereals. While not the first film adaptation of the book (that would be the 1910 silent film released by Edison Studios), the most recognized Frankenstein movie is undoubtedly the 1931 Universal production. It, along with Dracula, The Wolf-Man and the other Universal monster movies of the 30s and 40s are the foundations of our horror genre today, inspiring future directors, make-up artists, and special effects designers that would grow to create such modern gems as The Human Centipede and The Human Centipede 2. When people think of Frankenstein, they’re probably not thinking of Mary Shelley’s Modern Prometheus but Boris Karloff with a square head and bolts in his neck. Which is likely disheartening to the guy who loves to point out that the scientist was named Frankenstein and not the monster, who I believe exists only in cliches at this point.

     1935’s Bride of Frankenstein tries to continue this magic by taking up immediately where the original film left off, which I don’t think you see too often in sequels. Usually there’s an indication that some amount of time has passed between movies, while the protagonists catch up on their rent or whatever, but not this time. Our storyteller is Mary Shelley (Elsa Lanchester) herself, entertaining her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley and Lord Byron one late evening. While Shelley and this scene never come up again, it’s a nod to humble origins, and I’m glad they included it. I noticed they didn't give Byron his horrible clubfoot though, which nearly took me out of the movie altogether.

     It turns out, Mrs. Shelley explains that neither Dr. Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) or his creation (Boris Karloff) in the climactic final scene from the first film, just temporarily knocked out. The doctor is returned to his castle, apparently with no public backlash for creating a giant killing machine, while the Monster rises from the rubble of the windmill (after drowning the father of the girl he accidentally drowned in the first movie, removing the possibility for Frankenstein 3: Hans’ Revenge) and escapes into the barren German wilderness. Both creator and creation are in pain: Henry from the guilt he feels from playing god, and the Monster from basically being the world’s punching bag.

     Enter our antagonist, Dr. Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger). A former philosophy professor of Henry’s, Pretorius has succeeded in creating artificial life of his own, albeit in a more intricate and much smaller way (literally). He’s all about the world conquest idea, and an army of living cadavers is the best way to do it. Bt combing his and Frankenstein’s skills, he intends to create a monstrous mate, a horrific Eve to usher in a new race of inhuman creatures upon an unsuspecting world. Nothing is going to get in his way either, not even Frankenstein himself...

     The classic moral from the original film was that you ‘shouldn't play God’, that too much science is bad science, reappears somewhat more blatantly in Bride of Frankenstein. Pretorius, as the representative for science, is clearly a demonic figure. A classic Serpent archetype, enticing and manipulating those around him towards his own ends with a ruthless efficiency, while keeping calm composure. Such an obvious villain, drinking wine on coffins while chatting with skulls would seem ridiculous in modern movies, but in these Universal days with its exaggerations and theatricality, I find myself liking him. He’s an evil bastard just to be an evil bastard, and done really well.

     Henry’s wife Elizabeth is the symbol of love, the anti-Pretorius attempting to steer Henry away from the path of lightning-based temptation. Unfortunately she’s a female character from the 30s, which means she’s hardly a character at all. She’s the thing which drives Henry to action, rather than actually take action. It wasn't a progressive era in film, and I can understand that, but it also means that there isn't anything to say about her that I haven’t mentioned already. The same goes for the titular Bride (a symbol of false or tainted love, perhaps?), who you would think would have a more active role given that’s the name of the movie. But nope she doesn't even get to speak, meaning even the Monster gets more lines than her (the Monster picks up speech during his friendship with a blind violinist, the only person he’s able to talk to without accidental attempted murder). She does sport a rockin’ wig though, much like how putting a nice blanket on a chair makes it more visually interesting but does nothing for its bad jokes.

     With the inclusion of Pretorius, Henry becomes a victim of science as well, but the majority of sympathy is still focused on the Monster. The Universal horror library is filled with unwilling victims of circumstance, but you can say that all of them had peace or normalcy at some point before it was taken away, often times by their own actions. For the Monster, there is no peace, just a reminder every waking moment of his life that everybody (except blind guys I guess), including the person who made him, hates him and wishes he had never existed. His new found ability to speak forces us to recognize that he isn't some barely sentient creature, that he is intelligent and, despite his grisly origins, as human as those who despise him. Maybe he drowned a few more people than was warranted, but can you honestly say you wouldn't in the same situation? Think about it.

     The Bride of Frankenstein is not the iconic film that Frankenstein was, but as a film it’s fun and as a sequel it’s worthwhile. There’s an air of romanticism to it that I found infectious, and it gave the Frankenstein story a satisfying conclusion. Then they made more movies, kinda fucking up any sort of resolution you might have felt afterwards. Oh well. 


Result: Recommended

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