Frankenstein (1931)

 3/4

Starring: Colin Clive, Mae Clarke, Boris Karloff, John Boles, Edward Van Sloan, Frederick Kerr

Not Rated (probable PG for Scary Images)

A horror movie does not need expensive special effects, intense violence or gore to frighten its audience.  A truly gifted filmmaker understands that atmosphere and storytelling prowess are more important.  James Whale's film version of Mary Shelly's "Frankenstein" (or, more accurately, his film version of the play by Peggy Webling which in turn was based on Shelly's novel), illustrates this.  The body count is low, there is almost no blood and yet the level of tension is consistently high.  For anyone who believes that "old movies" are dull, this classic provides excellent evidence to the contrary.

Henry Frankenstein (Clive) is a brilliant medical student who is convinced that he is on the verge of something spectacular.  He believes that he can bring the dead back to life.  A theory like this gives the impression of madness, not to mention immorality, so he has locked himself in a windmill to do his research.  Only his hunchbacked assistant, Fritz (Dwight Frye), accompanies him.  His fiancee Elizabeth (Clarke) and friends confront him, but are too late to stop him from proving his theory right.  Now, they wish he didn't.  The monster (Karloff) he created is on the loose and headed to wreck havoc in the town.

"Frankenstein" gets off to a great start with the ominous scene of Frankenstein and Fritz watching a funeral so they can steal the victim's body parts.  The visuals give this scene an ominous atmosphere that brings to mind Werner Herzog's work in "Nosferatu: The Vampyre" (as Herzog's film was a remake of the 1922 film of the same name, this may have been intentional.  James Whale never lets the tension flag save for a few precious moments of respite, but those are under the shadow of what must come after.  The sense of dread is palpable.

The performances contribute to the film's generation of fear.  As Henry, Colin Clive's most infamous contribution is him screaming, "It's alive!  It's alive!"  Taken out of context it sounds campy and right out of a silent comedy (only with sound).  But actually the actor is very good as a man in the throes of ambition and obsession.  They will cost him dearly.  As his devoted lover, Mae Clarke brings a warmth and a steel determination to the role, making her more than the traditional demure female that was common in a lot of films of the day.

No one is more synonymous with "Frankenstein" than Boris Karloff.  It is ironic then that Karloff was such a no name actor at the time that he was uncredited as The Monster and wasn't even invited to the premiere.  Truth be told, Karloff doesn't have a lot to do in the role other than moan and stumble around.  But the makeup by Jack P. Pierce is startling and Karloff uses his body language to give off an intense presence.  It's not exactly flashy, but it's what the role requires, and Karloff accomplishes it magnificently.

By modern standards, "Frankenstein" is too short.  70 minutes just isn't enough time to tell a story like this.  This is an example of how filmmaking has changed.  A brief running time of just over an hour was common in those days, but now, movies are frequently twice that long.  There's no room for any nuance here, so themes that Whale wants to bring out feel half-developed and the relationships and motivations feel superficial.

"Frankenstein" still manages to chill, which is probably the best compliment that I can give it.

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