Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931)

The lyrical, haunting images in James Whale's films reveal him as a visual poet of loneliness, longing, and desire. He achieved this beauty in genre films that are sometimes seen as less reputable than other classics just for being genre films, a narrow opinion I've never shared. Whale made war movies, musicals, melodramas, romantic comedies, and four of the greatest horror films (Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Old Dark House, and The Invisible Man). Whale made great movies, full stop.

Frankenstein is one of those movies that just clicks. Great sets, great shots, great cinematography, great camera movement, great makeup, great performances, great lines, great source material (though my wife delivered a well-deserved "fuck you" when the film credited the novel to Mrs. Percy B. Shelley), even the comic relief works. Producer and studio exec Carl Laemmle Jr., whose demands and interference made Tod Browning's Dracula a lesser film than it should have been (though it's still pretty damn good), appears to have given Whale more freedom with Frankenstein, though he's personally mentioned in an introductory scene warning fainthearted patrons to leave the theater. He also made the characters of Victor Frankenstein and Henry Moritz swap first names because he didn't think American audiences would enjoy a leading character named Victor. Strange man.

You all know the story, so I'll skip the synopsis. This film is so iconic. Colin Clive shouting, "It's alive!" The burning windmill. The grave-digging scene in the amazing cemetery. The little girl throwing flowers in the pond. The villagers with torches. Every Frankenstein's monster that followed owes a debt to Boris Karloff's monster. (John Carradine and Bela Lugosi turned down the part before Whale saw Karloff.) Our childhood ideas of what Frankenstein's monster looks like come from this movie, whether we saw it or not. (Whale based his visual concept of the monster on a Goya drawing, Los Chinchillas.)

The pleasures of this film are many. I remembered liking it, but I'd forgotten just how good it is and how beautiful it is to look at. My classic horror needs were satisfied, but I also felt the loneliness and isolation of the monster and admired the shots Whale orchestrated to show this loneliness. I'd also forgotten how much fun Frederick Kerr is as Baron Frankenstein. He's a classic Hollywood grumpy old man, deliverer of comedic insults, lover of a good drink, and master of a wide array of verbal tics and non-word sounds, including the short half-laugh, irritated grunt, and skeptical hum.

Of course Colin Clive as Dr. Frankenstein, Boris Karloff as the monster, and Dwight Frye (Dracula's Renfield) as the humpbacked assistant Fritz all deliver the goods, and the film moves along at a brisk but never rushed clip while also taking the time to show off the set design, take in Whale's great shot compositions, and let the actors do what they need to do. Frankenstein is a great movie.