Frankenstein: Less than the sum of its parts

Frankenstein (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for bloody violence, gore and grisly images

Available via: Movie theaters and Netflix

By Derrick Bang

If this film doesn’t win an Academy Award for Tamara Deverell’s stunning production design, there is no justice.

 

Although initially delighted that he has brought life to a creation (Jacob Elordi, center) 
stitched together from scores of corpses, Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) just as
quickly worries that he may have made a colossal mistakes.

And if the Oscars included a category for atmospheric dread, director/scripter Guillermo del Toro also would have that one locked up. He has been unsettling viewers since 1997’s Mimic and particularly 2006’s Pan’s Labyrinth. And only del Toro could have jump-started the goofy 1950s Creature from the Black Lagoon franchise, and transformed it into 2017’s brilliantly disorienting The Shape of Water, winning Oscars for Best Picture and Director in the process.

All this said, I wish del Toro had matched his new film’s visual dazzle with a similarly exhilarating script. His take has about as much in common with Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s 1818 Gothic masterpiece, as director James Whale’s 1931 adaptation. 

 

Which is to say, del Toro has taken serious liberties with the original plot and character roster. A few high points remain faithful to Shelley’s novel — along with occasional references to Prometheus, as befit the subtitle of Shelley’s novel (“The Modern Prometheus”) — but for the most part del Toro merely borrows the concept of Frankenstein and his monster.

 

That would be fine, if the results were more consistently engaging. At times — and I can’t believe I’m saying this about a del Toro film — the narrative is protracted and boring. As often has been the case with other filmmakers, one must be cautious about embarking upon a pet project which — in del Toro’s own words — has been a “quest” ever since he saw Whale’s film for the first time, at age 7.

 

Del Toro has moved the timeline half a century forward, to allow the key players a greater understanding of advances in electricity. The saga therefore begins in 1857, with a prelude aboard the Royal Danish Navy ship Horisont, trapped in arctic ice while hoping to reach the North Pole. While attempting to free the ship, crew members spot a badly injured man, and bring him aboard.

 

He barely has time to introduce himself as Baron Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac), before the ship is attacked by a powerful, towering creature that demands Victor be surrendered to him. Ship’s Captain Andersen (Lars Mikkelsen) refuses, and six of his men are killed in the subsequent violent melee; the creature withstands all manner of gunshots and other damage.

 

The calmly resolute Andersen wins the moment only after using his blunderbuss to shatter the ice beneath the monster’s feet. It sinks into the icy waters.

 

“It’ll be back,” Frankenstein warns. “It can’t be killed.”

 

Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget — Aardman hatches another winner

Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for dramatic intensity and humorous action

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Children.

 

The moment you look away, they do something stupid.

 

Although Funland Farms appears to be a larkish paradise, Frizzle and Molly soon wonder
why all the other chickens seem ... well ... not in control of their own selves.

Such behavior obviously isn’t limited to human beings, given what kicks off the action in Aardman Animation’s marvelous new Claymation entry: another hilarious, stop-motion masterpiece from the folks who brought us Wallace & Gromit.

(This seems to be the season for animated poultry, given that this film follows hot on the wings of Illumination’s Migration.)

 

This sequel is something of a surprise, given that 2000’s Chicken Run was almost a quarter-century ago. But scarcely any time has passed in the lives of intrepid avians Ginger (voiced by Thandiwe Newton) and Rocky (Zachary Levi), since they orchestrated a mass escape from the farm run by evil Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy. The clutch has settled in an idyllic island sanctuary in the middle of an isolated lake, where life has been stress-free.

 

Their only visitors are skillful scavenger rats Nick (Romesh Ranganathan) and Fletcher (Daniel Mays), who pop up occasionally with supplies.

 

Ginger and Rocky soon are blessed with a hatchling, Molly, who grows into an adventurous — and restless — adolescent (now voiced by Bella Ramsey).

 

A surge of suspicious-looking trucks on the mainland fuel concern that a new chicken farm is being constructed, which prompts Ginger and the others to better conceal their community. Alas, that isn’t enough to deter the insatiably curious Molly, who crosses the water and then — having never before seen one — stops in the middle of a paved road.

 

(Insert the obvious joke.)

 

She’s rescued from a nasty death by Frizzle (Josie Sedgwick-Davis), a similarly adventurous young chicken beguiled by the slogan on all the passing trucks: “Funland Farms: Where Chickens Find Their Happy Endings.” All the trucks are filled with happily clucking chickens, apparently oblivious to the slogan’s implications; Molly and Frizzle hop aboard for what they believe will be a great adventure.

 

If that slogan seems a bit dire for a family-friendly comedy, the film’s title is significantly worse ... and the scripters — Karey Kirkpatrick, John O’Farrell and Rachel Tunnard, assisted by seven (!) more credited writers — also don’t shy away from depicting that consequence. (Remember, the Brits gave us Roald Dahl. They have faith in a youngster’s appetite for gruesome touches.)

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio: A truly unique vision

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (2022) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, and much too generously, despite considerable violence, dark thematic elements, peril and rude humor

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Although there’s much to admire in this handsomely mounted, stop-motion version of Carlo Collodi’s oft-filmed 1883 children’s novel, I’m reluctant to recommend it … in great part, because the intended target audience is a mystery.

 

Having broken a promise to attend school, Pinocchio is delighted by the acclaim he
receives as the new star of Count Volpe's marionette show.

Del Toro’s relentlessly morbid and very loose adaptation definitely isn’t for children, who certainly won’t understand the updated shift to war-era Fascist Italy, and likely will be terrified by this setting. Nor can I picture mainstream adults wandering into what superficially appears to be a children’s film.

Unsuspecting parents who gather the kiddies for what they assume will be a family-friendly holiday flick, are apt to be horrified.

 

Even del Toro hedges this particular bet. “It’s not necessarily made for children,” he admitted, in a recent Los Angeles Times interview, “but children can watch it.”

 

Seriously?

 

I think not.

 

(Del Toro is fond of placing his dark fantasies against the backdrop of real-world horrors; both The Devil’s Backboneand Pan’s Labyrinth are set during the Spanish Civil War.)

 

Granted, the surrealistic writer/director has a legion of fans, and lovers of this painstaking animation style certainly will embrace this outré fantasy; perhaps, combined, they’ll be sufficient. And, in fairness, co-director Mark Gustafson’s stop-motion work is stunning; whatever else can be said about this film, it exhibits a true sense of wonder.

 

Pinocchio’s appearance here — rough-hewn, spindly, unfinished (missing one ear), a true marionette — is inspired by artist Gris Grimly’s illustrated 2002 edition of Collodi’s book.

 

And, backed by fine voice talent, del Toro and Gustafson elicit an impressive range of emotions from these characters.

 

But my goodness, this film is bleak. And macabre. And sad.

 

A lengthy prologue introduces wood-carver Geppetto (voiced by David Bradley) and his young son, Carlo (Alfie Tempest). The old man dotes on the boy, who — a model child — is equally devoted to his father: trustworthy, obedient, eager to learn. Alas, his life is cut short by a wartime tragedy.

 

Geppetto is heartbroken, overwhelmed by grief; his work suffers, leaving unfinished a large wooden effigy of Jesus in the local church, much to the chagrin of the village priest (Burn Gorman). Time passes; finally, in a fit of drunken rage one night, Geppetto makes a “replacement son” and then falls asleep.

 

A large, feather-winged, luminous blue wood sprite (Tilda Swinton) appears; taking pity on Geppetto, she grants life to the hastily carved little puppet. She then charges his “development” to the erudite and touchingly noble Sebastian J. Cricket (Ewan McGregor, who also narrates this tale).