Review: Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein – lightning in a bottle?
Written by Hannah Rooney on 19th November 2025
How do we define a monster? Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein favours tragedy over terror, but the film’s power strikes in its final tranquility.
Hannah Rooney goes all gothic…
Guillermo del Toro and Oscar Isaac on the set of (C)Netflix new movie – Frankenstein (2025).
It’s no easy feat to take on a literary classic.
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus is widely regarded as a Gothic masterpiece – but if anyone is up to the task of putting their own spin on such a compelling story, you would think it would be Oscar-winning director Guillermo del Toro.
Frankenstein (2025) quickly throws audiences into the action.
A shipwrecked crew – and the audience alike – are confronted by the creature (Euphoria’s Jacob Elordi), a product of scientist Victor Frankenstein’s (Oscar Isaac) death-defying experiment, as he demands access to his maker.
The film is told across two parts: the story of Victor Frankenstein’s upbringing and quest to bring the dead back to life, and the creature’s story after his creator, Victor, abandons him.
The movie has a run-time of almost two and a half hours, but it doesn’t feel like it.
The blend of Alexandre Desplat’s at-times whimsical soundtrack and del Toro’s cinematography swept me off my feet. I’m still thinking about the costuming for Mia Goth, who plays two roles in the film. Her colourful gowns and veils were a stand-out, and the choice to cast her as both Elizabeth Harlander, Victor’s brother’s fiancée, and Claire Frankenstein, Victor’s mother, who dies at the beginning of the film, is a constant reminder of the loss driving Victor’s motivations.
It’s great visual storytelling, and it doesn’t end there.
Much like his 2015 gothic romance Crimson Peak, the settings are characters in and of themselves, mirroring the film’s narrative arc. Victor’s loneliness drives his scientific pursuits, pursuits which ultimately destroy him. There is no better representation of this than the tower where Victor assembles his creature, evolving from desolate to an impressive laboratory to ruins destroyed in a blaze of fury. It feels incredibly poetic.
Most of us are familiar with the idea of Frankenstein’s monster, likely an image akin to Boris Karloff in James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931). In del Toro’s adaptation, Frankenstein’s creature begins the film at his scariest. He’s shrouded in black, a menacing voice booming as he inflicts violence on the crew, a slender finger outstretched towards Victor.
Death is calling.
Here, Frankenstein’s monster is nothing short of terrifying – but to my disappointment, I never felt that same level of fear again throughout the film.
This first impression seems quite intentional, forcing the audience to abandon their initial prejudices as the creature’s origins are explored and he turns out to be quite innocent. The audience is disarmed (and quite literally, the crew members initially shoot at Frankenstein) once it becomes clear the ‘monster’ is not very monstrous. It’s understandable.
Del Toro wants us to reflect on the true monstrosity of humans.
The film doesn’t promise to be a faithful adaptation of the classic novel, nor did I expect it, but the creature lacks the nuance of Shelley’s – one who is both decidedly formidable and tragic, characteristics not mutually exclusive. Shelley’s creature, who tragically murders a child – Victor’s own brother – still leaves readers feeling sorry for it.
I understand del Toro’s compassionate approach, but his creature feels too blameless, too good, too delicate. Look no further than TikTok and you’ll find several posts of women swooning over the creature. In my opinion, it was a missed opportunity to add more depth to the story, and to let audiences feel conflicting emotions and discomfort.
This criticism is no fault of Elordi’s, who transforms into the role he was given with ease.
I definitely see him carving himself as a gothic period piece powerhouse. And it seems he already is, as he’s set to star as Heathcliff in Emerald Fennel’s upcoming Wuthering Heights (2026). He’s reminiscent of Timothy Dalton, who starred in several gothic movies such as Wuthering Heights (1970), Jane Eyre (1983) and Penny Dreadful (2014-2016).
The entire cast of the film are fantastic.
Isaac captures the spirit of, essentially, a mad scientist. He’s deliciously unlikeable, and in small moments, quite humorous. However, although she had two roles, I feel Mia Goth’s talents weren’t used to their fullest. She’s more than proven her acting chops – notably in Ti West’s X horror trilogy – and I can’t help but wonder how the film would’ve improved if she’d had room to flex her skills.
Despite my criticisms, the film’s final moment was a revelation. As the creature bathed in the light of the sun, choosing forgiveness, something clicked into place for me. In this emotional release, like a spiritual rebirth for the creature, I realised I had become like Victor Frankenstein, too expectant of an unattainable perfection.
Del Toro forces the audience into the sunlight, into freedom from expectations. There I could embrace the movie’s message wholeheartedly.
Frankenstein (2025) is not a film that haunts, but it is an experience worth having.
