The Horror of Frankenstein

In a period fraught with uncertainty, disrupted as much by structural changes in the British film industry as by the changing sensibilities of an increasingly savvy and demanding public, the powers that be at Hammer Films decide that it’s high time to move forward with a substantive update of the successful saga of mad doctor Victor Frankenstein. And so, the director’s chair passes from veteran Terence Fisher to newcomer Jimmy Sangster (noted longtime Hammer screenwriter), while the face of the titular mad scientist takes on the youthful appearance of Ralph Bates, a true habitué of post-Hays Code horror.

The upshot is something of a reboot, but one done on the cheap – short on both funding and ideas. Judged as a stand-alone film, it’s not entirely awful, but it definitely pales in comparison to the “old” films of the series. They carry on the British tradition of focusing on the character of the baron at the expense of the creature (depicted here as a sort of dim-witted bumpkin better suited to a “backwoods brutality” context such as “The Hills Have Eyes“, 1977), although the scant attention devoted to psychological depth plus an overly rigid arrogance and condescension create a flat, monotonous protagonist who’s incapable of generating any genuine interest.

Further, the director – who also serves as screenwriter, not to mention producer – attempts to address the material from a satirical angle, but despite flashes of dark humor, his vision struggles to make it off the drawing board (reducing the sweet, literary Elizabeth to a hapless housewife is hardly the pinnacle of irony). Instead, there’s an annoying vein of absurdity running through the exaggerated innocence of the supporting characters, whose ultimatums to the baron seem custom-made to incite his homicidal tendencies. We see examples in his colleague Wilhelm’s threats (“But I must warn you, Victor, I shall expose you. The world will know of the terrible things you’re doing in the name of science“), and when Alys the housekeeper resorts to some rather compromising blackmail, demanding to be paid “for withholding information“.

Overall the cast meets basic minimum requirements, offering an average, nondescript performance. Veronica Carlson, whose character was stabbed to death in the prior film (“Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed!“), makes it through this one with little more than a couple of close calls.

The film’s poor reception leads Hammer to turn the clock back for the final chapter of the heptalogy, “Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell” (1974), directed by returning veteran Terence Fisher.