Subject: REVIEW: MARY SHELLEY'S FRANKENSTEIN

From: [email-masked] (Michael J. Legeros)
Date: Tue, 8 Nov 1994 17:38:09 GMT

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			    MARY SHELLEY'S FRANKENSTEIN
		       A film review by Michael John Legeros
			Copyright 1994 Michael John Legeros

Directed by     Kenneth Branagh
Written by      Steph Lady and Frank Darabont,
                   from the novel by Mary Shelley
Cast            Robert DeNiro, Kenneth Branagh, Helena Bonham Carter,
                Aidan Quinn, Ian Holm, Richard Briers, and John Cleese
MPAA Rating     "R" (what else?)
Running Time    Approx. 120 minutes

===

"Did you ever consider the consequences of your actions?"
                                    - DeNiro to Branagh

     No FRANKENSTEIN film should ever be boring.  Period.  Not THE
BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, not YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN, and certainly not MARY
SHELLEY'S FRANKENSTEIN.  But boring is as boring does and this
refreshingly literate monster movie is one creation that never comes to
life.

     Don't blame the source material.  Shelley's story always contained
more philosophy than atrocity, and writers Steph Lady and Frank
Darabont doctor the horrors appropriately.  With one eleventh-hour
exception, their transgressions are all very tasteful.  This
FRANKENSTEIN is a thinking's man's monster movie, where The Creature
spends more time learning language than lumbering.

     With appropriate tweaks to the original story--such as electric
eels as energy sources--there should be enough scares here to spook
anyone.  But the surrounding story never comes together.  The tone
isn't quite right, and parts of the plot always seems to be missing.
Did test screenings do this?  The generous leaps and bounds of the
story suggest serious snipping in post-production.

     The film stinks for subtext, as well.  Director Kenneth
Branagh--the man who put Shakespeare in the cineplex--offers no
commentary on the horrors of 16th-century medicine.  Nor does he
effectively examine the relationship between Victor and his adopted
sister (Helena Bonham Carter).  His worst omission: a sense of humor.
This FRANKENSTEIN should be brimming with sly winks and subtle nods to
earlier incarnations.  But, no, not once does the doctor even so much
as yell "it's alive."

     (And what's with that "circling" camera technique?  Is the
director trying to infuse into ever scene a sense of action?
Excitement?  Dizziness?)

     Playing the infamous Victor Von, Branagh is all buffed and
beautiful for his steamy laboratory scenes.  But his eyes burn with
neither malice nor madness--he's a good boy who's too good.  Better is
DeNiro, a stitch (sorry) as The Creature.  His misshapen mass of
serrated scars and slurred syllables is a welcome presence in the
second hour.

     Supporting roles go to Ian Holm, Aidan Quinn, Tom Hulce, Richard
Briers, and, as a heavy (!), John Cleese.  Why the latter is forced to
wear dental props, though, is never explained.  Sorry, sorry.

     To the credit of everyone involved, there is one, great moment to
remember.  The scene occurs toward the end of the film, when The
Creature does something very bad to someone very good.  That brief,
horrible act brings a rush of excitement into the film like oxygen into
a backdraft.  And, for a few, fleeting moments, you can clearly see the
terror that should've been there from the beginning. And then it's
gone.

BOTTOM LINE:  Frankly speaking, Kenneth Branagh should stick to
              Shakespeare.

Grade: C-

--
Michael J. Legeros
Raleigh, North Carolina