Oct. 10th, 2017

beer_good_foamy: (Default)
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is another one of those I should have watched years ago, especially since I love both the novel and the classic adaptations (well, the first three, at least). I think it was Ken Branagh who put me off it.

And yes, Branagh overacts his black heart out, to the extent that even John Fucking Cleese comes across as a master of quiet dignity and restraint next to him. Though it's a tough competition, with just about everyone constantly chewing ham all over the movie.

Everyone: [at some point in the movie] NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

There are things here that work; De Niro (!!!) is a surprisingly effective Creature, and I appreciate the effort to make a real, proper adaptation of the book, but I'm not entirely sure books are always best served by a word-for-word adaptation; Mary Shelley's philosophical meanderings simply don't jibe with Branagh's over-the-top WILL SOMEONE TURN OFF THOSE FUCKING STRINGS style. As a horror movie, it's toothless. As a period drama, it's fun enough, though not in the way Branagh intended. But still, I'm glad it exists - if nothing else, as a warning for what happens when bearded men tamper in the Goddess' domain.

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