I, Frankenstein (2013)

Originally Published in The Daily Nebraskan, 1/30/2014

Before we go any further, I have to ask, what do demons and gargoyles have to do with Frankenstein’s monster?

The answer is nothing. Demons and gargoyles have absolutely nothing to do with Frankenstein’s monster. Yet there they are, attacking the monster as he prepares to bury his creator, Victor Frankenstein. Frankenstein’s monster, whose lumbering menace has been iconic for generations, is agile enough to take on a team of four demons by himself. 

Okay. I can buy that, but what I can’t buy is the idea that 666 legions of demons (see what they did there?) need Victor Frankenstein’s journal to figure out how to reanimate dead bodies so they can possess them. They’re demons. They come from hell, a place definitively beyond death. Why do they even need to possess human bodies? They seem to go after Frankenstein just fine. 

If this all sounds dreadfully stupid, it is. The plot follows Frankenstein’s monster, played by Aaron Eckhart, as he’s enlisted by The Gargoyle Order to fight the 666 legions led by the demon prince Nibirius, played by Bill Nighy, who is trying very hard to stay serious in the midst of all this nonsense. 

Aaron Eckhart's monster compared to previous incarnations.

“I, Frankenstein” has many faults, and they add up. There’s the canned symphonic score that sounds like it was lifted straight from a low budget RPG, the ridiculous premise and the cringeworthy dialogue, but the biggest issue in this film is its main character. Aaron Eckhart is simply not an action hero. He tries very hard to scowl and act like a hardened badass, but in the end he is just terribly miscast. Was Mickey Rourke not available? Eckhart is just too handsome, his face too symmetrical to play Frankenstein’s monster. He doesn’t look like he was put together from spare parts. 

And Frankenstien’s monster, dubbed Adam by the Gargoyle Queen, wears a hoody throughout the entire film. Frankenstein’s monster wears a hoody. Just let that sink in for a minute. 

What this movie also lacks is enough clever action set pieces to justify its meathead script. It takes itself way too seriously. The actors deliver their overwrought, comic book lines as though they were reciting Shakespeare. One area “I, Frankenstein” excels in is unintentionally hilarious dialogue. In one scene, two scientists are trying to re-animate a dead rat, which by the way is the fakest damn rat I’ve ever seen. They turn the current up and see some brain activity. One of the scientists is afraid to turn off the current. “But that will kill it!” he says. His colleague responds, “IT’S ALREADY DEAD!” 

Flaws aside, the action sequences and 3D are at least competent. The climax is fun; imagine thousands of reanimated dead bodies possessed by fiery demon souls at once. As the bodies are being reanimated, a little screen attached to each corpse informs us: RE-ANIMATING, 92%. Wouldn’t it be something if the loading bar got stuck and foiled the demons plans right then and there? 

A side note—why do all the villains and heroes in movies like these always have British accents? At this point we’ve all accepted it, but just think about how that conversation must go: “Okay, so you’re playing a Gargoyle. You’ve been around since the dawn of time. You’ve seen things human beings can’t even imagine or perceive. You’ve seen the rise and fall of entire civilizations. You have served God Himself.” “Wow, that sounds like a great challenge for me as an actor!” “No, we just need you to watch the first season of Downton Abbey and talk like them. That should cover it.”

“I, Frankenstein” is just one huge misstep after another. A fiasco. One can see the potential in a story like this if the filmmakers had had the guts to deviate from its sophomoric source material. Unfortunately, a movie that could have been a lot of fun has ended up deader than its title character. 

A fucking hoody, guys.