The Curse of Frankenstein

A star is born in the glittering world of horror films, and its name is “Hammer Films”. The nucleus of this creative reboot is a director with a capital D (Terence Fisher), an impressive screenwriter (Jimmy Sangster), and a pair of actors destined to contribute some of the most dazzling performances in the history of the genre (Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee).

Indeed, “The Curse of Frankenstein” marks a turning point for the British film production company. With several intriguing sci-fi horror movies already to its credit, Hammer assembles a winning team to inaugurate a brand-new phase in Gothic horror, revitalizing a genre that had lain comatose for nearly a decade. Compared to earlier cinematic landmarks, particularly the Universal Pictures classics, Hammer offers numerous fresh aspects, starting with the introduction of color and then boldly featuring details that were highly disturbing at the time (many critics of the era, shocked by what they saw, promptly wrote withering reviews, heaping scorn on the film).

Unlike James Whale’s 1931 benchmark, Fisher’s film relegates the creature to the background, focusing instead on the character of the mad scientist, a man consumed by unchecked ambition and willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. In other words, he’s anything but a romantic protagonist (“‘Thank heavens they’re gone. I have work to do upstairs’ ‘But this is our wedding eve. I thought…’ ‘Oh, come, Elizabeth. We are not sentimental young lovers’“). And as events transpire, he will further reveal himself to be disinclined to any sort of ethics and regret.

His monumental unscrupulousness is unsuccessfully challenged by supporting characters such as his erstwhile tutor Dr. Krempe (“What you’re saying is nonsense, a revolt against nature. Such a thing could only end in evil“) and the elderly Professor Bernstein (“There’s a great difference between knowing that a thing is so and knowing how to use that knowledge for the good of mankind“). These characters serve as a sort of external conscience, but fail to make a dent in the baron’s deep-seated cynicism.

At any rate, sanctimoniousness and moralism are far removed from Fisher’s poetics as he takes every opportunity to lay out his viewpoints on the matter. As Stefano Leonforte observes in his book “A Qualcuno Piace l’Horror” (2014): “One shouldn’t read into ‘Frankenstein’ a global condemnation of science, but merely the recognition of its limits”.

Significantly, the film has aged rather well. Magnificently shot and full of charm, the superbly succinct plot is lively and engrossing.