Login
Fully representative of the uncommon idea that a sequel can surpass its predecessor on every level, "The Bride of Frankenstein" is a groundbreaking feature, casting an inexplicable spell over audiences that remains entirely undiminished by the passage of time, cinematic technologies and styles. Despite the genre transforming beyond recognition in terms of the Universal era's creaky Gothic sets and content restrictions, James Whale's subtext-laden films have preserved his legacy for further generations, securing his continued relevance as a figurehead of the first wave of classic horror cinema almost a century on.
Inexorably more refined and adventurous, Whale's innovative overhaul of the first film's drawbacks, such as the underdevelopment of the main characters, their motivations and weak, stilted dialogue and performances, is notably present from the opening scene, which depicts Mary Shelley regaling her husband and Lord Byron with an oral continuation of her greatest work; it is this daring departure from the original story that ensures a more dynamic, technically superior experience, far improving on its source material. Commencing from the climax of the previous film, the villagers are resigned to the belief that the Monster is dead, having supposedly engulfed in flames along with the windmill, however, he is very much alive, although now badly scarred, escalating and accentuating his intimidating physical form and grisly visage even further. Upon emerging from a flooded pit, the Monster proceeds to terrify Dr. Frankenstein's hilariously shrill, screeching maid and kill two of the villagers whose daughter he drowned in the original. It is at this point that the film evolves from a generic Universal horror, establishing a macabre jocularity, eccentric overtones and gallows humour which differentiates it from the formulaic, passable first outing.
It is with the introduction of Dr. Frankenstein's equally mad old colleague, the cunning and highly flamboyant Dr. Pretorious, who endeavours to revert the reformed scientist back to his previous God complex antics, that decipherable codes of homo-eroticism are implemented, also evidenced by the Monster's budding relationship with a blind hermit, cruelly circumvented by passing members of the lynch mob baying for blood. Once the Monster learns to speak, his sense of loneliness becomes more pronounced, and as such, our sympathy for him extends further than simply his plight as a persecuted aberration; we discern that the creature has developed human traits and now curiously hopes to be afforded the unalienable right to love and be loved in return. Aided by the desperate, desolate Monster, the Machiavellian, devious Pretorious takes credit for the Monster's education, ensnaring him for his own ends to coerce the guilt-ridden, disenchanted Victor Frankenstein into assisting the construction of a female mate for his own rejected abomination. Pretorious and his more artificial creation, The Bride, a twitching swan-like beauty who screams wildly at the sight of her betrothed, are ancillary, even minor characters, but once they appear, their respectively bizarre appearance, camp theatricality and gestural nuances dominate the screen and threaten to overshadow the film itself, symbolising its ubiquitous iconography. Pretorious's urge for dangerous knowledge and power is ultimately his downfall, as the dejected Monster deems them both equally monstrous, selfish and thus wholly undeserving of love. In educating and humanising the creature as to the sins, vices and evils of man, Pretorious brings about his own demise, therein completing the Monster's tragic story arc, registering him as cinema's ultimate unnatural outsider, too grotesque and hulking to ever be considered normal by society's deeply hypocritical, prejudiced standards.
James Whale's magnum opus serves as a prime example of how much he had grown in confidence since directing "Frankenstein", influenced by his own rebellion and outsider status in Hollywood, "The Bride of Frankenstein" remains a sublime exploration of the unacceptable outcast and humankind's instinctive disdain for their very existence.
