Frankenstein (2025) Review: Del Toro at His Most Human

Rating: 9/10 ⭐️

From the first frame, it is clear that this adaptation aims for something more intimate and emotionally faithful than most versions. I went into Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein with the same anticipation I reserve for every project he touches. Anything he makes becomes an instant priority for me, and this film once again justifies that trust. It is a simple story told with clarity and a deep sense of humanity, far removed from the usual Hollywood monster spectacle. Del Toro returns to Mary Shelley’s original structure, and right from the opening scene, he signals that this is a faithful and emotionally grounded adaptation.

The film begins with a ship trapped in Arctic ice. The crew witnesses an explosion and soon discovers a collapsed and half-frozen Victor Frankenstein. Before they can fully process what they are seeing, a towering creature boards the ship and kills several crew members before being cast into the icy depths. As Victor is treated, he recounts his version of how he reached this point. He speaks of his fragile mother, his domineering father, and the childhood grooming that pushed him relentlessly toward medicine. His obsession with overcoming death takes hold when his father fails to save his mother, and this single tragedy becomes the axis around which the rest of his life spins.

Through Victor’s story, we see how he channels that obsession into creating life. But the moment the creature opens his eyes, Victor reacts not with wonder, but with rejection. He chains him like a mistake that should never have existed. As Victor becomes increasingly unstable, he harms the creature and distances himself emotionally from the being he brought into the world. This is where my feelings toward him shifted. Whatever sympathy I had evaporated and was replaced with frustration. The creature, despite his grotesque form, behaves with the vulnerability of a newborn whose only connection to the world is the man who created him.

When Victor destroys the lab with the creature inside, assuming this will erase his failure, the story pivots. The creature survives, and we finally get his perspective. His journey is tender and painful, showing how he learns, observes, and forms brief bonds with strangers before returning to the one person he longs to understand. His request for a companion, something so basic and human, is met with fear and denial. This rejection ignites the conflict that eventually brings both creator and creation back to the Arctic, looping the narrative to the film’s striking opening.

What makes the ending so powerful is its restraint. The creature, after everything he has endured, forgives Victor. He frees the trapped ship and walks alone into the sunlight. It is a beautifully symbolic moment, aligning with Victor’s final words that he should live. Jacob Elordi plays the creature with a bruised innocence that makes you feel every wound, physical or emotional, while Oscar Isaac gives Victor an ego and arrogance that slowly consumes him from within. Together, they anchor the tragedy at the heart of this story.

Visually, the film is stunning. Del Toro’s blend of gothic beauty and emotional weight is present in every frame, from the frozen expanse of the Arctic to the dimly lit interiors of Victor’s home and laboratory. The film carries the unmistakable feeling of a long-awaited passion project, executed with control, empathy, and an artist’s sincerity.

For me, Frankenstein stands as an exceptional retelling of a story we all know yet rarely feel this deeply. It is a profoundly human film about creation, responsibility, abandonment, and the painful yearning to belong. A solid 9 out of 10, and one of del Toro’s most heartfelt works in recent years.