Opening with a warning that informs the viewer of the themes
of life and death, a horror hype man (as I eloquently deemed him in my notes) warns
the viewer to anticipate the thrills, shock, and horror of the story that will
unfold. While the film uses horror elements, many of which are borrowed from
German Expressionism, I view a study of human behavior that dissects the nature
vs. nurture debate while imposing an argument supporting tradition over
modernity.
The correlation between death and modernity is prevalent
throughout the film. Skulls and skeletons are placed within the sterile
environments where science is discussed and enacted. The large, distorted
shadow of the skeleton claims the space of a classroom after a lecture takes
place. Death is looming in the growing shadows. The air is still and solemn. No
music is heard—only the sound of shuffling bodies and the ominous cracks of
thunder are heard in such settings. The places of science are cold and
uninviting. They serve as a reminder of a bleak future. Moments before Dr.
Waldman tries to operate on the monster, a high angle shot of a tray covered in
neatly organized scalpels and assortments of other surgical tools transforms
into a chaotic mess as the doctor grabbing the scalpels dishevels the once neat
tray, symbolizing the destruction of natural order. The damage has already been
done—the sciences have meddled in what should have remained untouched. Worland
claims the rope symbolizes the thread between life and death. However, I view
it as an umbilical cord connecting the monster to his birthplace: the
laboratory. He’s bound to being viewed as the unnatural in a natural world,
fated to be alienated by a society that values tradition.
The ornamental rooms of the Frankenstein manor and the
bustling village are lush and flourishing with life. Fertile flowers are used
as decoration, given as gifts, and are plentiful for Henry and Elizabeth’s
wedding ceremony. Worland explains the flowers are presented as one of the
film’s motifs due to their symbolic significance for fertility and femininity
while also indicating tradition due to the significance of their presence for
social rituals. Unlike the sterile environments reserved for science, the
settings where traditions are celebrated emanate warmth and remain inviting.
The village is the only space where diegetic music can be heard as the
villagers anticipate the pending nuptials between Henry and Elizabeth. The
juxtaposition between the sterile environment of the sciences and the fertile
environment of tradition echoes Mary Shelley’s romantic sentiments.
The monster’s criminal brain is labeled as abnormal. Once Dr. Waldman discovers the brain used to bring the monster to life was that
of a criminal, he warns Henry that the monster is evil. This moment of dialogue
is perplexing, given that the concept of evil maintains religious roots. Was
the monster’s fate sealed before he had an opportunity to learn of right and
wrong? Compared to the monster in the novel, the film’s monster is infantilized.
He toddles and is incapable of speaking. Worland takes note of what he
considers the most poetic moment of the film, a scene in which the monster
makes his way toward the light that radiates from a ceiling window. The monster
is drawn to the light—he’s mesmerized by it, and he slowly stumbles toward it
while raising his hands. The image of this creature reaching towards light mirrors
that of religious iconography. The monster is reaching toward light as if he’s
searching for meaning and purpose through religion. Worland describes an
expression of innocence painted on the monster’s face. Moments before, however,
he describes the look of menace in the monster’s eyes. Worland emphasizes the
importance of the eye motif in the film through the use of the phrase “eyes are
the windows to the soul,” while again determining the monster’s eyes are
menacing. It appears that he has determined that the monster is fated to be
evil because he’s a product of evil. I disagree. The monster’s eyes are
melancholic and show struggle as he tries to grapple with the purpose of his
existence and his inability to control his emotions. He shows remorse after
realizing he has killed a young girl, but, ultimately, he seals his fate by
being consumed by anger and disgust at his own existence. The camera remains
static as it captures Henry framed by doorways, reminiscent of the framed
portraits found in the Frankenstein manor. He is trapped and tamed by his enclosure
of societal expectations. The monster, however, does not face these
restrictions. A mobile camera tracks and pans his movements. His emotions have
driven him to run rampant. He has internalized society’s disdain for the
unknown, the unnatural, his state as the product of a sterile environment.
Hey Jessica,
ReplyDeleteI think it's really interesting that you said the monster "seals his fate by being consumed by anger and disgust at his own existence". Like you stated, he is infantilized in the film and I agree that he is melancholic over what he has done, but I don't see where he's angry at himself as much as he is angry with Frankenstein for creating him. This would fall in line with the religious aspects of the film, the creation being angry with their creator. I like that instead of taking Worland's word for it, you went back and looked at it closely and had your own take on a lot of different aspects of the film.