TIFF 2025: ‘Frankenstein’ Review

There are few directors whose pained process of trying to get projects off the ground has been more publicized than Guillermo del Toro. Ambitious in his scope and unwilling to compromise on his vision, he’s an artist whose work reflects a perfectionist capable of conveying his love for the macabre to the masses—when allowed to do so. His creations, like those of many other artists, represent various facets of his obsessions and preoccupations that have proven fruitful throughout his career. A fascination and romanticization with the darkness is precisely why del Toro is the perfect match for the latest adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Equal parts reflection on the creation of art and the nature of godhood, del Toro’s long-gestating Frankenstein is an unwieldy and massive realization of the director’s dream project that struggles to contain the auteur’s vision. Nevertheless, the writer-director has crafted an impressive behemoth of an adaptation that plays to his strengths while integrating his own fixations into a gothic horror film driven by curiosity and passion.

Unsurprisingly, del Toro’s obsession with adapting Shelley’s influential novel has been a lengthy undertaking. The book has informed so much of his previous work that the only possible way to confront it would be to embrace it wholly. As such, Frankenstein adheres closely to its source material, with slight deviations that appear to be the result of maintaining its scope while being constrained by budget and runtime expectations. There’s a level of perfection that both del Toro and the protagonist of the film, Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac), have been wrestling with before being willing to unveil their creations. It’s understandable when watching Victor navigate financial constraints, public expectations, and life’s many distractions that del Toro relates heavily to the film’s artistic struggle. When allowed to work uninterrupted with unlimited funding from a wealthy arms dealer, Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz), Victor becomes capable of pursuing his most ambitious project.

That project, of course, is a confrontation with mortality. After the death of his mother, which becomes impossible for him to accept, Victor spends his life researching and honing his craft in modern sciences to find a means of reviving the dead. Gaining the attention of Henrich and the ire of every God-fearing peer in the scientific community—a contradiction that the film interrogates with constant references to the soul’s location when handling flesh and blood—Victor is soon provided a laboratory and the financial means to work in seclusion until he can reanimate the deceased successfully. His only distractions come from life itself when he falls in love with Elizabeth Lavenza (Mia Goth), who is Henrich’s niece and also betrothed to Victor’s brother, William (Felix Kammerer).

The audience’s first introduction to the Creature (Jacob Elordi) occurs in the film's opening moments, as Victor is found near death in the Arctic by an expedition crew headed towards the North Pole. A shadowy figure in the distance that quickly establishes a hatred towards Victor, the Creature’s presence is immediately one that feels hostile and evokes fear in both the audience and the ship’s crew, currently marooned in fields of ice. Frankenstein is then told through the perspective of Victor as he regales the ship’s captain with a story of creation, and the artist toiling away at perfection until driven mad by the impossibility of the task. It’s not until later in the film that del Toro allows for the monster to take the spotlight fully and infuse the film with the heart it so desperately desires.

Comprising the bulk of the film, Victor’s tale is one dictated by science, ego, and ambition. It’s also one that imposes a disappointment on Victor’s creation, challenging the audience to question its narrator, who doubles as the creator of his masterpiece. It’s impossible to untangle Guillermo del Toro’s filmography and personal life from Victor. So it’s easy to see how Frankenstein isn’t just an adaptation of Mary Shelley’s novel but also a biography of sorts as the director sees himself in Shelley’s words. Even the production and set design, while setting-wise is close to Shelley’s vision, remains reminiscent of many of del Toro’s previous films. It’s an exquisite and gorgeous production on all fronts, and is why even when del Toro’s films don’t always succeed, their images are undeniably potent. It’s the work of a perfectionist, and that is ultimately what echoes throughout the first half of Frankenstein, before evolving into a conversation about empathy, nurture, and the unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

Del Toro has created so many dark worlds that mirror our own society that his ability to impress those images upon us is never in question. Re-teaming with the cinematographer of his past few live-action films, Dan Laustsen, and collaborating again with composer Alexandre Desplat, Frankenstein maintains the same dreamy, gothic presentation that has made all of del Toro’s films so immersive. Desplat’s score here is arguably one of his best, as it waltzes through breathtaking vistas of Scotland and aids del Toro in achieving the epic scope of his ambitious adaptation. Costumes, makeup, production design: it’s all exquisite in the ways that del Toro’s films have always been, without reinventing the wheel but instead transporting audiences to a time and place that may not be real but reflects some modern anxiety that plagues the director at that time. Some digital elements brush up against the vision here, but they are often slight and cannot detract from the craftsmanship on full display at any given time.

The performances in Frankenstein are also incredible, with Isaac embodying a mad scientist whose pursuit of life after death is driven by grief. Goth carries an eloquence and snappy rapport in her interactions with every man Elizabeth encounters, but much like Elordi, she shines brightest when the film leans on its compassionate moments. It’s the pivot towards focusing on the Creature’s tale and experience of his newfound life that gives Elordi plenty of room to imbue a physically monstrous creature with the emotional vulnerability and curiosity that have become trademarks for all of del Toro’s iconic monsters. Every actor breathes life into their characters, but an exceptional William Bradley performance in the latter half of the film might be the standout besides the trifecta of Isaac, Goth, and Elordi. Getting an excellent, resonant performance out of an actor has never been an issue with del Toro’s films. Still, here it’s in the service of a film that feels deeply personal and makes those successes matter more than usual.

Frankenstein is a colossal achievement. There are times when it feels like everything is coming together neatly, but once the film shifts focus and attitude, a disappointing feeling arises, as if it has bitten off more than it can chew. Packed to the brim with ideas, they sometimes fall to the wayside as a result of not having the same unlimited resources as Victor Frankenstein does to make his creation. However, even Victor’s pursuit is met with roadblocks, and the product of his life’s work is openly interpreted by others and dismissed by himself. That frustration of creating something that turns out to be different from what was expected paints an informative illustration of the artist toiling away into madness as their work of art sits unpublished and unadmired. Del Toro has spent decades of his life working towards Frankenstein. While the adaptation process may have proven too daunting to rein in and control completely, the result is something that needed to be pushed into the world or risk never finding a life of its own. It’s not his greatest film, but Frankenstein represents the work of an artist whose complete dedication to the craft continues to yield awe-inspiring images and thoughtful interrogations of life’s many mysteries.

The 50th Toronto International Film Festival takes place between September 4th and 14th. Frankenstein celebrated its North American premiere on September 8th, as part of TIFF’s Special Presentations program. The full list of films selected for the festival can be found here.