Frankenstein review: Guillermo del Toro's gory and glorious creation is a triumph

A film del Toro has been tinkering with for years, his Frankenstein is far removed from the 1931 James Whale version, perhaps something closer to Kenneth Branagh’s gleaming 1994 film Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, which featured Robert De Niro as the creature brought to life by the egotistical, god-playing scientist, Victor Frankenstein.

Here, he casts the younger, physically-imposing Jacob Elordi, an actor who truly shows his dexterity in a performance of few words but grand and sometimes heartbreaking gestures.

Opposite him is a compelling Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein, a character first glimpsed prostrate in the icy wastes of the Arctic. It’s 1857 and an expedition to the North Pole, led by Captain Anderson (Lars Mikkelsen), has seen its ship run aground, frozen in the ice.

When the injured Frankenstein is discovered, he’s brought aboard just as Elordi’s creature – his face almost entirely concealed – goes on the rampage. “It cannot die,” cries Frankenstein, as his creation throws men around like rag-dolls and survives countless bullets.

As Frankenstein recounts his story to the Captain, we are taken back to his youth, when his mother (Lauren Collins) dies, leaving the distraught boy to vow to his strict father (Charles Dance) that he will overcome mortality. “No one can conquer death,” comes the stern reply.

When we next glimpse Frankenstein, it’s 1855 and he’s at the Royal College of Medicine, demonstrating his attempts to inject life into a stitched-together cadaver. This “abomination” – beautifully animated, with animatronics by the way – sees him dismissed.

Yet his pioneering work attracts the erudite arms trader Harlander (Christoph Waltz), whose own niece Elizabeth (Mia Goth) is engaged to Victor’s younger brother William (Felix Kammerer).

As Harlander becomes Frankenstein’s patron, so the work begins as the scientist strives to harness nature’s majesty and bring life to his creature, culled from body parts. Of course, Frankenstein’s unwillingness to treat his creation with any humanity – referring to him as “It” – inevitably leads to destruction, pain and sorrow.

With del Toro’s script switching to the Creature’s perspective, we get to see its encounter with a blind man (David Bradley), who shows compassion and warmth, even sharing his books, including Milton’s Paradise Lost.

It’s here where del Toro finds the story’s core humanity and Elordi – his torso made up with scars, with prosthetics make-up artist Mike Hill doing sterling work – comes into his own. There’s something almost balletic about his performance, the way he moves, the way the Creature discovers itself as a sentient being.

With burnished, beautiful cinematography from Dan Laustsen, a highly-charged score from Alexandre Desplat, and exquisite production design from Tamara Deverell, del Toro’s film is unquestionably one of the most beautifully crafted films you’ll see this year.

Everything feels tangible, with CGI backdrops kept to a minimum. The sheer invention is bewildering, notably when the camera plunges inside the Creature’s body the moment life takes hold of it.

Perhaps its hyperbole to call the film del Toro’s masterpiece – especially a story that has been told countless times. But this is a work that is the accumulation of three-and-a-half decades of filmmaking knowledge. Gory and grim it may be, but it is a tragic tale told in a captivating manner.

Frankenstein is released in limited cinemas on 17th October 2025 and arrives on Netflix on 7th November 2025.

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