Del Toro cobbles together ambitious, magnificent Frankenstein
Referred to as “my Everest,” director Guillermo del Toro has longed to put his distinctive stamp on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Stating recently that each movie he’s made has been in preparation for this undertaking, he was able to secure a $120 million budget and a generous six-month shooting schedule from Netflix to realize his vision. The result is what you would expect from the filmmaker and well worth the wait. Visually sumptuous, narratively dense and audaciously rendered, this take on the classic existential tale is unlike any other version of the story you’ve seen before. Most importantly, Del Toro brings a sense of humanity to the tale, it ending not in violence but an incident of reconciliation that forcefully drives home Shelley’s theme.
Stumbling out of the gate with a needless, overwrought action sequence, Del Toro begins his version as Shelley did hers, in the frozen north. Leading an expedition to find a quicker trade route, Capt. Anderson’s (Lars Mikkelsen) ship has become frozen in the ice, his frightened and impatient crew imploring him to turn back. However, their concerns are put on the back burner when they see an explosion in the distance, and upon investigating find Victor Frankenstein (a wonderfully calculating Oscar Isaac) injured and near death. While taking him back to the ship, they are attacked by an incredibly strong, misshapen creature (Jacob Elordi) intent on killing the injured man.
Once Frankenstein is ensconced in Anderson’s cabin, he relates his story. While the familiar narrative is present, that of the mad doctor and his misguided creation, Del Toro introduces a great many narrative wrinkles and permutations that make for a richer, more dynamic story. The filmmaker provides the titular character with a richer history, positing that his adored mother (Mia Goth) died while he was just a child, leaving him to be raised by his demanding father, Leopold (Charles Dance). A surgeon, he goes to extreme measures while training Victor to follow in his footsteps. The pupil eventually surpasses the master, intent on besting his father, by conquering death.
His wild theories concerning reanimating dead bodies leads to Frankenstein being ostracized from the medical community, but he finds a sponsor in Harlander (Christoph Waltz), another rich Del Toro addition. Having made his fortune in munitions, he funds the doctor’s experiments, setting him in an abandoned water tower in which to work. He does so tirelessly, that is until his younger brother, William (Felix Kammerer) visits with his future bride, Elizabeth (Goth) in tow. She proves to be a distraction he could do without.
All this occurs during the first hour, Del Toro taking his time to establish the world of material and moral decadence that facilitates Frankenstein’s work. Eschewing computer-generated effects, production designer Tamara Deverell renders a sumptuous gothic environment that wallows both in the trappings of the 19th century aristocracy and the charnel house the titular character’s lab becomes. This is the sort of film coffee table books are made for, the meticulous nature of every set something to be studied, the minute details providing an immersive experience that creates a sense of place pixels could never hope to accomplish.
Equally overwhelming are sequences focused on the construction of the creature. Working with bodies harvested from the battlefields of an ongoing war, we see Frankenstein dissect these cadavers, snap bones from one body into the sockets of another and stitch his work together. Though graphic, these scenes never come off as gratuitous but rather moments of clinical practice, necessary to underscore the doctor’s determination as well as his madness. Together, these moments create a portrait of an artist at work.
Once the creature makes his first appearance, the relationship between creator and creation is fully explored. Initially astounded, Frankenstein dotes on his “son” before becoming disillusioned, suffering a sort of post-partum depression, when his progeny fails to live up to his expectations. Yet, upon discovering him, Elizabeth gives the creature the nurturing he needs, providing the film with its most touching moments. In these scenes, and throughout, Elordi is a marvel, his character is far from monstrous but seen as an awkward child. Struggling to understand the world he finds himself in, his eyes convey a sense of innocence that will be torn asunder when Frankenstein attempts to destroy him, setting his laboratory ablaze.
The second part of the film concerns the creature’s efforts to survive, his grotesque appearance dooming him to be a pariah despite his innocent nature. As in the novel, he stumbles upon a home where a blind man lives with his family, observing that peace can be found with a loving family, learning to speak and write with some conveniently discarded books. Yet, once discovered he’s driven away, leading him to return to Frankenstein and request he make him a companion, leading to tragic results.
Though it runs nearly two and half hours, there’s a sense of urgency in the film, ensuring it never lags. This is a well-oiled machine, hitting on all cylinders, Deverell’s astounding sets, the cast’s passionate performances, Alexandre Desplat’s rousing score, Dan Lausten’s atmospheric cinematography and Del Toro’s writing and directing, all working in harmony to create a distinct, at times overwhelming, but ultimately moving film experience.
Purists may quibble at the liberties Del Toro takes with Shelley’s text. Cribbing elements from James Whale’s original and as well as The Bride of Frankenstein, the Hammer Horror cycle, the art of Bernie Wrightson, Greek mythology and other sources, this could have come off as an unwieldy pastiche. However, there’s a reverence in Del Toro’s approach, these parts melding perfectly with the filmmaker’s exploration of the original text’s characters and themes. The result is an ambitious, astounding, singular piece of work that requires many viewings to unpack all it contains. Unlike his film’s protagonist, Del Toro’s amalgam is no monstrosity but a masterpiece. Streaming on Netflix.
Bracing Nuremburg a necessary cautionary tale
The subject of feature films, a television mini-series and numerous documentaries, the 1946 trials at Nuremberg of Nazi war criminals has been examined from numerous perspectives. James Vanderbilt’s Nuremberg adopts a different approach, attempting to provide a more intimate look at the inner workings of one of the men behind the Final Solution. Using Jack El-Hai’s book The Nazi and the Psychiatrist as his foundation, the director examines the relationship between Dr. Douglas Kelley and Hermann Goring, the former having been charged with evaluating the latter, as well as his cronies, to see if they were fit to stand trial. The result of the monthslong interactions would have a profound effect on the doctor, though providing little in the way of insight as to what made Goring and his associates tick.
In the aftermath of World War II, the prevailing notion was that any members of the Nazi High Command who had been captured should be executed without a trial. Supreme Court Justice Robert H. Jackson (Michael Shannon) had a different notion, saying that in doing this, there was the potential of making these men martyrs and these acts might serve as a rallying point for any who shared their beliefs. Despite much resistance, Jackson was able to convince various leaders of the Allied Forces to hold a trial to be conducted on the world stage, so that the regime’s heinous acts could be fully exposed and condemned.
Enter Dr. Kelley (Rami Malek), an ambitious psychiatrist who immediately realizes the unique opportunity he’s been given. In getting to know Goring (Russell Crowe) and his cohorts, he hopes to determine what makes their outlook different from others and how they could have justified their amoral acts. It’s a noble cause but also a mercenary one as Kelley hopes to write a book about his findings that will bring him riches and acclaim. What he doesn’t count on is being charmed by Goring, coming to see him as a flawed man not without his reasons for acting as he did.
Vanderbilt isn’t short of ambition, his script containing multiple narratives and a large cast of dynamic characters. Richard E. Grant and Mark O’Brien are on hand as Sir David Maxwell-Fyfe and Col. John Amen respectively, Jackson’s fellow prosecutors, while John Slattery appears as Col. Burton C. Andrus, a stern taskmaster who’s assigned with running the prison section of the Nuremburg facility and keeping his inmates alive until the trial. A plot thread involving Goring’s wife, Emma (Lotte Verbeek) and daughter, Edda (Fleur Bremmer), and the friendship that forms between them and Kelley provides a troubling moral dilemma. The presence of the doctor’s translator, Sgt. Howie Triest (Leo Woddall), provides a human side to the tragedy of the conflict. Though the dialogue at times seems simplistic or smacks of modern speech, the script’s structure in terms of giving each plot thread equal time is impressive.
Across the board, the cast brings the necessary gravitas and sincerity to their roles, but Crowe walks away with the film. Taking an understated approach, the actor’s inherent sense of charm is put to good use here. Goring comes off as a seductive egotist whose sense of superiority leads to his downfall. For much of the film, Crowe doesn’t play him as a villain, rather as a man who was misguided, a devoted husband and father who hopes to be exonerated and return to them. Yet, once he’s on the stand, his true nature is revealed, the actor assuming a proud posture, dismissive attitude and unbridled arrogance, bringing to life Goring’s base nature without ever rending the set. It’s a powerful, subtle portrayal of evil that proves hard to shake.
Nuremberg ends with a warning, one that regrettably needs to be shouted from the rooftops once more. While Kelley may not have discovered what causes people to embrace and carry out a doctrine as amoral as Nazism, he was convinced the attitudes that foster it are all around us. That he’s obviously been proven correct, is without question. That we’ve allowed such things to take place once more is to our great shame. Vanderbilt, his cast and crew have fashioned a bracing reminder of what happens when such actions go unchecked. Let’s hope their message is heard before it’s too late. In Theaters.
Christy: A portrait of true heroism
More a survivor’s tale than a standard biopic, David Michod’s Christy examines the life of female champion boxer Christy Martin, a trailblazer in the male dominated arena who brought a sense of dynamism to the burgeoning sport. However, her accomplishments in the square circle are not the film’s focus. Having suffered horrific abuse at the hands of her husband, as well as a murder attempt, Mirrah Foulkes and Michod’s script emphasize these events as well as Martin’s ultimate escape from this situation.
Growing up in rural West Virginia in the late 1980s, Christy (Sydney Sweeney) had few opportunities for advancement. Realizing she has little in common with her peers, she feels ostracized by her parents as well due to her relationship with fellow high schooler Rosie (Jess Gabor). However, she does excel at sports and on a whim enters a local “Tough Woman” competition. She wins handily and impresses its promotor, so much so, he introduces her to veteran trainer Jim Martin (Ben Foster).
This opportunity proves to be a double-edged sword. Initially, Jim wants nothing to do with her; that is until he sees her in the ring. Recognizing some raw potential in the young woman, he takes her under his wing, entering her in bouts at any dive, fair or tournament he can find. After dominating her opponents for four years, Christy comes to the attention of promoter Don King (Chad L. Coleman), who begins booking her on the undercard of Mike Tyson fights. This would lead her to winning the female super welterweight title and being the first woman boxer on the cover of Sports Illustrated.
As compelling as this is, her relationship with Jim provides the film’s dramatic heft. Marrying Christy simply to exert more control over her, he would go on to abuse her physically and emotionally, gaslighting her and eventually getting her hooked on cocaine. This would come to a head after she retired from the ring, Jim stabbing her repeatedly and shooting her after Christy informed him she was leaving him.
Viewers should be warned that Michod pulls no punches in his depiction of the violence Christy endured, and for good reason. Sugarcoating any of this would do a disservice to his subject and not cast Jim in the properly horrific light.
As for Sweeney, she’s very good here. Her bombshell persona does her no favors where being taken seriously as an actress is concerned and it will take a while for many to realize what a dynamic performer she is. The best thing in this year’s Echo Valley and Eden, she continues to impress, barely recognizable at times under the 30 pounds she gained and the less-than complimentary wig she dons. Her carefully crafted image disappears, the actress bringing to life the raw, naïve nature of her character. Awards chatter regarding her work is well-deserved, and hopefully Foster will be able to ride on her coattails. Perhaps the most overlooked actor in American film today, he creates another memorable member in the menagerie of disparate characters he’s played over the years, a truly frightening, sickening man.
If Christy has a fault, it’s that it wraps up too soon. Though running over two hours, we’re still left wanting to see more of this remarkable woman’s resurrection. How she has become an advocate for abused women and the steps she’s taken to provide avenues of escape for them is equally compelling and needs to be trumpeted as well. Be that as it may, Christy still proves inspirational, a portrait of a woman who continues to inspire with her continued victories outside the ring. In Theaters.
