In 1794, in the Arctic Sea, Captain Robert Walton is a man obsessed to reach the North Pole, pushing his crew to exhaustion. When his ship hits an iceberg, it is stranded in the ice. Out of the blue, Captain Walton and his men overhear a dreadful cry and they see a stranger coming to the ship. He introduces himself as Victor Frankenstein and he tells the Captain the story of his life since he was a little boy in Geneva. Victor is a barilliant student, and in love with his stepsister Elizabeth, an orphan that was raised by his father Baron Victor von Frankenstein. In 1793, Victor moves to Ingolstadt to study at the university, and he promises to get married to Elizabeth. At the university, Victor befriends Henry Clerval, who becomes his best friend. Victor gets close to Professor Waldman and decides to create life to cheat death, but Waldman advises him that he should not try this experiment, since the result would be an abomination. When Waldman dies, Victor steals his notes and tries...Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
When Professor Waldman is administering cholera vaccinations, and they are struggling with the townsperson, the man is saying, "You're not sticking that in me," but his mouth remains tightly closed. See more »
In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I've never seen the entire movie. I lasted about on hour or so (maybe a little longer) before the limit of my tolerance was reached.
What was wrong with this movie? Kenneth Branagh, ham though he may be, was decent enough in this movie. The exact same goes for Robert DeNiro, who got to ham it up a lot while wearing lots of monster makeup. John Cleese was surprisingly good as a medical professor. Helena Bonham Carter is always easy on the eyes. The sets, the costumes, the cinematography, the story, all good.
What really wrecked this movie was its ham-fisted direction. Branagh the Director is infatuated with Branagh the Actor, and seems to work only to highlight to best effect the object of his admiration. This only serves to make Branagh the Actor look particularly hammy and over the top. I could feel my face flush with embarrassment as I watch this disgusting display of narcissism.
Kenny boy, if you're reading this, may I make a suggestion? Next time you want to make another adaptation of a Shakespeare play, or a Gothic novel, please consider handing over the directorial reins to someone else who can approach the overarching talent of Branagh the Actor with a little more, uh.... detachment.
Think about it, won't you? Thank you.
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