Beauty in the Grotesque: Del Toro’s Visionary Take on Frankenstein

It is no secret how much I adore Guillermo del Toro as a filmmaker, as a human, and his filmography. His adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein has been my number one most anticipated film of 2025. Without a doubt. I am just going to vomit my thoughts.

A couple of weeks ago, I had the chance to see an advance screening of it, and honestly, I wasn’t emotionally or mentally prepared for what I witnessed. The entire time, I was thinking, “Is this his magnum opus?” Part of me thinks it is. But I wasn’t ready to say it out loud until I saw it again. Hence, I didn’t write a full review on my first viewing. I wanted to wait and gather my thoughts.

“I had a vision, an idea took shape in my mind: inevitable, unavoidable, until it became truth.”

His voice and vision in telling the story—one known for having many different adaptations over the years, with various filmmakers behind it—make del Toro’s interpretation by far the most passionate with the source material. He gave us a much more heartfelt, human, yet sophisticated story of Frankenstein. Of course, with a dash of del Toro’s imagination.

The most compelling part of the story is the question: “What is life?” “What is it to be human?” That’s what Victor struggles with the most throughout the story—either in his early life, during the experiment, or after the creature is born. The whole time, his goal is to prove he can resurrect from death, and in doing so, his ego grows like his father’s. Victor never learns life or humanity as he focuses on one thing. It almost feels like this is del Toro’s way of telling his personal past about his father and himself—how he learned to be human while creating his own creations, such as films. Almost similar to Victor’s life.

Although it takes a while to get started, it becomes more engaging as soon as Victor appears on screen. That’s where the story takes us from two points of view in life: one through Victor’s eyes, the other through The Creature’s. What they see in life is compelling to watch as it grows. The performances help the story move forward. While Oscar Isaac gives a great performance, it is Jacob’s show to shine. Elordi overshadows Isaac’s performance, but ultimately, this is a story about a broken father-son relationship.

Del Toro captures it with such heart and soul in every frame. His way of using words is poetic and human. His interpretation of the story has a beating heart—a life. It’s as if, as soon as the film starts, the heart starts beating slowly, but as the story grows and we enter The Creature’s perspective, the heart beats faster. By the time the film ends, somehow, the story of Frankenstein is alive. Even though we know how the story goes, it was a genius move on del Toro’s part to show two perspectives—two different mindsets on life. The story told on screen has a beating heart from a fan who loves the source material.

What it means to be human is the main theme of Frankenstein. It suddenly makes me think about my life and who I am as a human being living in a world of love and hate, struggling to find a way to move forward while learning to live with it. The most compelling part of the story comes from two minds with different experiences in life: one born to be superior, the other born from an experiment. But in the middle of it is Elizabeth, played by Mia Goth, a character who feels like a guide in life—like a caring, gentle mother figure to The Creature and a concerned mother figure to Victor. She plays an important role in both of their lives—the heart and soul, if you will. She sees someone like Victor and The Creature, who need guidance and understanding of what it means to be human. Elizabeth sees The Creature as someone who needs proper care, while Victor sees him as a mistake. Not only does Elizabeth give The Creature a chance, but so does the elderly man who allows him to learn to speak and read. Importantly, they become friends and respect one another, despite the old man being blind. It’s beautiful to see the good side of humanity from The Creature’s perspective.

“My maker told his tale. And I will tell you mine.”

The Creature’s tale is compelling yet fascinating. That’s where we see more of his perspective in the world—a fish-out-of-water moment, learning about the world like a child separated from his father. He learns all by himself. He sees the good and the bad. What carries it is the performance by Jacob Elordi. He is the heart of the story—the driving force of it. Del Toro cast him for a reason: his eyes. His innocent eyes. The emotional beat that the audience follows through his eyes as he discovers the world and what it means to be human. Learning to speak, learning to be human—the very thing Victor doesn’t know how to be. The Creature’s perspective is the best part of the film. It’s as if del Toro understands The Creature’s mind more than Victor’s. It feels like he relates to The Creature because he’s an outcast, yet has a heart—just like del Toro. He wants to be loved, to fit in, and to understand the workings of being human. The Creature is selfless, yet also scared—he’s a child alone in a big world. That’s what makes The Creature universal, because there’s a part of him that we can all relate to. For me, it’s being an outcast and wanting to be loved. It is a tragic yet beautiful tale. He is a misunderstood character, even though he was part of Victor’s experiment—a father who never gave him a chance, who saw The Creature as a mistake. The hatred in The Creature’s eyes is his way of proving he is human to Victor—to feel validated, to be reconciled with his father, something Victor never had with his own father. Both perspectives are tragic in their own way. To me, what I’ve written makes me love the film even more. I felt emotionally invested in the characters and their tragic lives. It just works beautifully, with such care and heart.

Of course, the technical aspects of the film are top-notch, as always with any of del Toro’s works. The cinematography is epic, grand, and gorgeous. The score is beautiful, classical, and sweeping. The makeup design on The Creature is great and practical. And, of course, the sets and costumes are exquisite to look at.

This is the story that feels like the one del Toro wanted to make and tell on the most personal level—and it clearly shows. It’s about his father, his life, the mistakes, and the regret. It’s his way of venting through Shelley’s words. Yes, every film he has directed is consistently passionate—whether it’s the dark fairytale of Pan’s Labyrinth, the giant mechs fighting kaiju in Pacific Rim, the superheroes of Hellboy and Blade, or the romantic fairytale of The Shape of Water. Those films come from his imagination. But with Frankenstein, it feels like it comes from himself—his heart, his voice, his mind. The film is for the misunderstood, the outcasts, those who want to be loved and want to understand how to navigate a world of both hate and love. Being human is complicated—as life is. Nothing is perfect.

Speaking of perfect—Is this film perfect? The more I think about it, the more I love it. This is, to me, del Toro’s magnum opus. A film—an adaptation we’ve all seen before—that spoke to me on a human level. It makes me think about whether I’ve learned to be human, and part of me says that I am still learning—just like The Creature. The world is a scary place, but there’s both good and bad. Our hearts guide us in the right direction. It is a tragic tale of what it means to be human, giving us both the perspective of hate and love. Victor didn’t understand what the world offered him, but The Creature does. This is a character study that allows us to analyze their minds—one functioning, the other brought back from the dead. It is satisfying and fascinating to watch a story that has already been told, now through different voices. Del Toro’s vision and voice are by far superior—even to the Universal Monster classic starring Boris Karloff, an iconic performance, no doubt—but one that doesn’t bring as much humanity to The Creature as Jacob did. To me, this is a perfect film. There’s so much said on screen coming from del Toro’s heart and mind. He wants us to think and learn as we see two perspectives—Victor’s and The Creature’s—play out poetically.

“We are human.”