Review – Frankenstein (1931)

Despite being a little rough around the edges (due for the most part to the beginners’ mistakes endemic to the early talkies), this movie remains one of the classics of the horror genre. Though neither the first nor the last cinematic adaptation of Mary Shelly’s gothic novel, it nonetheless has become the standard against which other versions are judged and usually found wanting. Boris Karloff’s plodding, grunting, cube-headed, bolt-necked portrayal of the mad doctor’s creation has become a pop culture icon. And despite all the clichés, there are some genuine chills to be had here (particularly when the creature is playing with the peasant girl, and we all know what’s going to happen even though production standards cut the scene short). With that kind of reputation, it matters little that the acting suffers from post-silent histrionics and the plot is often as muddled and awkward as its lead character. Worth seeing