"I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.”
Those are the words of the unnamed “monster” created by Victor Frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel, Frankenstein: or, the Modern Prometheus (the subtitle would be dropped in later editions). One of the most popular and influential works of 19th-century literature, the book tells of a brilliant young scientist who, in a quest for knowledge, creates a man in his laboratory—assembled from the bodies of the deceased and brought to life with the “spark of being.” But immediately afterward, Victor is revolted by his creation’s hideous features and flees in horror, leaving the newly born being alone to fend for himself in a world that will be frightened of him and shun him for his grotesque physical appearance.
Long a staple of high school English classes, Shelley’s novel has been adapted into countless stage plays, films and television programs, the latest being a lush, big-budget production directed by Oscar-winning filmmaker Guillermo del Toro. Del Toro has frequently cited Frankenstein as among his favourite books and has long wanted to make a faithful adaptation of the story, one that more fully explores the themes in Shelley’s novel.
Starring Oscar Isaac as the scientist and Jacob Elordi as his creation, Frankenstein was released at selected cinemas in October and is now on Netflix.
Of Monsters and Men
At its heart, Frankenstein is a creation story, with parallels—and contrasts—to the story we read in the Bible. In the Book of Genesis, God creates Adam and declares him to be “very good” (see Genesis 1:31). At the beginning, Adam is innocent and sinless.
Frankenstein’s creature is in many ways an innocent child as well, despite his eight-foot frame and monstrous visage. After he is deserted by his creator, he learns to read by quietly observing the inhabitants of a cottage and develops the ability to understand and reason. But he is treated as sub-human and is condemned by society due to his misshapen appearance. And even after helping others, he is still perceived as a threat. In one instance, he saves a young girl from drowning, only to be shot at by her guardian who believes he attacked her.
While Adam and Eve sin after being deceived by the serpent, leading to their banishment from the Garden of Eden, the creature’s “fall” results from his mistreatment. It is only after the repeated rejection by Victor and society that the lonely, embittered and misunderstood creature—who wants nothing but to be loved and accepted—begins to violently lash out, leading to tragedy for all involved.
As the creature says to Victor in the book, “I ought to be thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed.” And in the final pages, as he reflects on all that has happened, he laments, “the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even the enemy of God and man had friends … I am alone.
”The creation story in Genesis tells us that all humans are created in the image of God (see Genesis 1:27). But how often have we, like the people in Frankenstein, rejected those who seem different from us? Jesus reminds us that whatever we do for the least of our brothers and sisters, we are doing for Him (see Matthew 25:40). By neglecting our responsibility to those on the margins of society, are we making monsters out of men? And do we risk becoming monsters ourselves?
At its heart, Frankenstein is a creation story, with parallels—and contrasts—to the story we read in the Bible.
Welcome Home
In his obsession to create life, Victor Frankenstein does not consider the consequences of his reckless actions, and he evades his responsibilities as a parent.
In this way, he is the opposite of the father in a story Jesus told that is known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son (see Luke 15:11-32). In the story, the son decides to leave his family and asks his father to give him his inheritance now, rather than waiting for the father’s passing. The father grants his request, and the son goes to a distant country where he wastes all the money on “wild living.” Realizing he’s made a mistake, the son returns to the family, offering to be the father’s servant. But the father welcomes him with open arms, rejoicing for “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (Luke 15:24).
In Frankenstein, the roles of father and son are reversed, as Victor abandons his son, the creature. But in the book, there is no hope of return, of redemption—by the end of the story, both have died, and reconciliation is no longer possible. Father and son are separated forever.
Not so with God, our heavenly Father. Though Adam sinned in the Garden of Eden, precipitating our separation from Him, God sent His Son, Jesus, to make a way for us to come back to Him. And He waits for us with open arms, ready to welcome us into a loving relationship with Him when we accept Jesus as our Saviour.
Fateful Choice
Though the original novel is now more than 200 years old, Mary Shelley’s tale of the son who is forsaken by his “prodigal father” continues to resonate with readers and inspires filmmakers like del Toro to create new adaptations for the big and small screens.
More than a simple horror story, Frankenstein challenges us to ask deeper questions about our relationships with God and our fellow human beings. What choice will we make—the path of the “fiend” or the one of the Father?
Extra, Extra ...
Growing up in the 1970s, I loved watching Saturday-afternoon matinees of monster movies on television, the black-and-white classics from Universal Studios, as well as the full-colour fright flicks from Britain's Hammer Film Productions.
As I became older, my appreciation for the “creature features” I saw as a child grew, and after working for a while as a writer and news reporter, I decided to move into entertainment journalism. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to write about many of my favourite cinematic scarefests, and I even interviewed iconic actor Christopher Lee—who in addition to playing Count Dracula and the Mummy, also played The Creature in 1957’s The Curse of Frankenstein.
Early last year, I discovered that a new adaptation of the Frankenstein story—to be directed by award-winning filmmaker Guillermo del Toro—was to be partially shot in Toronto, and the production was looking for background performers. I took some photos of myself and submitted them to the casting department, never expecting anything to come of it. I was both shocked and excited to get a message a few days later saying I had been selected to appear in the film, and an appointment was made for me to go in for a fitting!
Putting on the elaborate garb of a sailor aboard the ice-bound ship that plays an important part in the movie and walking onto the film’s enormous outdoor ship set was awe-inspiring. It seemed like no expense was spared to create this elaborate, authentic-looking (and seemingly life-sized) vintage vessel. Hydraulics could tilt it at different angles to simulate the boat being in turbulent, icy waters. I was shown how to act and what to do to give the illusion that I was a seafarer helping my shipmates navigate a vessel under extreme and frightening circumstances—and I gave it my all!
Several of my days were daytime shoots, but some were also scheduled at night, which was a particularly surreal experience, especially when you have smoke, fog, wind machines, fake snow and fire enter the mix. I was part of some very exciting, pulse-pounding scenes (Sorry, no spoilers here.), and was witness to the immense dedication and hard work of the stars, stunt people, production crew, my fellow background performers and Mr. del Toro.
I grew up watching numerous Frankenstein-themed films, mesmerized by the action on-screen. I still can’t believe I was part of one, as well. It’s an experience I will always treasure.
—James Burrell
Photos: Courtesy of Netflix
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