Day 16: FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

I. A GRAVEN IMAGE

If one must approach the Dracula myth with a thesis, this is no less true with Frankenstein films. Unlike the former however, the latter have tended from the very beginning to approach directly their underlying themes, namely, the folly of Man playing God.

Why this result occurs, I cannot say for sure. My best guess is that you will run into problems with the censors if you make a film that is obsessed with bodily fluids. Any vampire film will have blood to start and the better ones will get most of the other excretions in there as well. A Frankenstein film does not absolutely require anything of the sort. (Keep in mind, I have never seen the Warhol factory product FLESH OF FRANKENSTEIN [1973].)

Alternately, there is the possibility that the West, as a culture, is incapable of reconciling the ideas of God's plan and human free will. This conflict tends to show up in the popular media. If I may play pop psychologist, and for what its worth I have been playing that role all along in my reviews, I am referring to the possibility that our culture is fascinated by the prospect that man can, variously: a) overcome death and b) create life.

After all, it was not for nothing that Mary Shelly's novel was subtitled 'modern Prometheus.' That refers, of course, to the Greek myth of Prometheus. To reduce that myth to its essential elements is as follows. Prometheus steals fire from the Gods and gives it to mankind. For this transgression, either purely as punishment for his actions or because man was not supposed to have this gift, he is chained to a rock where, every once in a while, Zeus comes by in the form of a bird and feasts upon Prometheus' innards. (Its been a slow progression in Greek cuisine to arrive at the gyro.)

I will assume that everyone is familiar enough with the Frankenstein mythos that I can avoid recapping the plot and pointing out the obvious parallels. The 'modern Prometheus' of the novel refers clearly to Doctor Frankenstein himself, not his famous monster. How dare this scientist, this mere mortal, interfere with the province of Gods by creating life himself?

II. THROW THE SWITCH

So, with that out of the way, it is time to address some specifics on James Whale's first Frankenstein film in particular.

The film proper opens with a priest reciting a prayer in Latin at a funeral. Dr. Frankenstein and Fritz hide in the shadows, waiting to steal a fresh corpse. Immediately, the conflict between God and man has been introduced into the narrative.

Another riff on the Prometheus myth is the infamous torch-bearing mob at the end of the film. Possibly. It could also be reading too much into the use of fire here, which may not be an intentional echo.

Its also interesting that the monster (Boris Karloff) is, alternately, primitive and childlike. In the novel the monster can speak, and his profit on it is that he can then lecture Doctor Frankenstein. The monster in the novel does not shut up. He is kind of a jerk with all the philosophizing, actually.

Both interpretations play off the central theme of the Frankenstein myth in different ways, the novel being didactic and the film being allegorical. This split plays to the respective strengths of each format. Each genre within the format, too. Shelly wrote a Romantic novel, which accounts for the verbiage. Whale directed a mass market horror film, albeit one which rises far above the typical schlock of the era.

Yet, for some reason, the Universal film interpretation has become dominant in popular culture. Karloff's portrayal might play a role in that. His Frankenstein's monster possesses a degree of physicality, of menace, of danger and vulnerability exceeding Bela Lugosi's Dracula, a performance which was excellent and iconic but one-dimensional.

III. WELL, WELL, WELL... WHAT'S ALL THIS?

OVERALL: ****/5 on its own but, as we will discover in my next review, a perfect *****/5 when taken together with BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935). Both skillfully shot and innovative.