200 YEARS OF MARY SHELLEY'S CREATURE

This year marks the 200^th anniversary of the novel that was the Big Bang for the genre that became Science Fiction. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein debuted in January of 1818, an instant success among both readers and theater producers who scrambled to put the sensational story on the stage. 

Widely acknowledged to be the first true science fiction novel, Frankenstein explored themes of science vs. religion, man vs. God, the overweening ambition of the “mad scientist” and technology out of control long before Phillip K. Dick was a twinkle in his parents’ eyes. In fact, it’s fair to say without this foundational work, none of us would be here—creatively, at least.

The story behind Shelley’s creation of Frankenstein is almost as fascinating as the book itself. A daughter of famous parents (Charles Godwin, a radical political theorist, and Mary Woolstonecraft, a poet and feminist author, who died less than a month after giving birth to her daughter), Mary had an unusually liberal upbringing and a broad education. Her father’s home was often full of intriguing guests, one of whom was the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. Mary began an infamous affair with the married Shelley at the age of 16, marrying him two years later upon the suicide of his first wife.

But it’s the unusual summer of 1816 that Mary and her husband spent at Lord Byron’s villa on Lake Geneva that is of the greatest interest to Frankenstein fans. A cloud of ash hovered over Europe that summer, hiding the sun, dropping temperatures and withering crops. Few Europeans knew it, but the horrific eruption of the Mount Tambora volcano in Indonesia on the other side of the globe was the cause of that “year without a summer.” What normally would have been a pleasant vacation in the mountains of Switzerland became a monotonous run of dark, dreary days and stormy nights at Byron’s villa.

Eventually, out of sheer boredom, someone proposed a writing contest. Specifically, Byron’s houseguests were to write the scariest stories their imaginations could produce. At first, Mary was so intimidated by her competition that her mind was blank for days; the 19-year-old couldn’t think of anything that would stand up to the work of two famous poets. But at last she fell into what she calls a “reverie,” a lucid dream, and the idea of the mad scientist and his creature came to her nearly whole. And once she wrote it down, even Frankenstein’s author was amazed at what she had done.

The public immediately responded with acclaim when Frankenstein was published a year and a half later. Perhaps it was her name, which already had some currency with her audience, but more likely the author had touched on themes that were swirling in the common consciousness of the time. Great Britain and the other nations of Europe and America were rapidly moving from an agrarian society to an industrialized one, with benefits certainly, but with many dangers as well. Science had plenty of answers but uncovered even more disturbing questions. Frankenstein captures this zeitgeist perfectly.

Even better, the book was visual in a way few novels of the time were. Within a few months of its debut, dozens of stage productions of the book were underway in London, each with its own interpretation of Dr. Victor Frankenstein’s “monster.”

It’s no surprise, then, that as soon as movies were invented Frankenstein would become a subject for film. The first film version of the book was Edison Film’s Frankenstein in 1910, starring Charles Ogle as the monster. Since then, there have been hundreds of interpretations in dozens of languages. But since this is one of my favorite written stories, this is also one of my favorite film subjects. 

I have three all-time favorite film versions.

The Universal Classic. 

 I still believe Universal Studio’s 1931 version of Frankenstein, starring Boris Karloff as the monster, to be the best. Yes, key scenes of the film have been parodied to the point of meaninglessness (Colin Clive shouting, “It’s alive, alive!” for example). 

But though his version of the monster has become a cliche, no one has ever captured the mute despair and confusion of the creature like Karloff, though better actors have tackled the job. And if you can look beyond the stilted Thirties dialogue to see the stark beauty of the black-and-white cinematography and art direction, this film is truly exceptional.

TheTruest Adaptation.  

Director Kenneth Brannagh’s 1994 film Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, starring Robert de Niro as the monster, is as faithful an adaptation of the novel as you’re ever likely to get. Brannagh even used the “bracketed” framework of the Arctic ship captain’s narration that Shelley employed to great effect in her work. And, of course, de Niro gives you the full range of emotion (and dialogue!) in his tormented creature. But the best part of this film is the clarity with which Brannagh lays open Victor Frankenstein’s motivation—his passion, really—in wrestling Death to create Life. The set design here, too, is marvelous, showing us the Rise of Industrialism as a character in itself. Awe-inspiring.

The Fun Stuff. 

Because I love the Universal Frankenstein (and all the Universal horror films), I cannot help but love Mel Brooks’ 1974 comedy spoof Young Frankenstein. My husband and I saw this film as a first-run in the theater, and almost died laughing. I must have seen it a hundred times since then—enough times that I could quote whole scenes for you. Brooks is a comic genius (and his ensemble cast of Gene Wilder, Madeline Kahn, Marty Feldman, Cloris Leachman and Peter Boyle as the monster are superb), but what makes this film funny is that it so perfectly follows the plot lines, characters and dialogue of the Universal Frankenstein films. In particular, Bride of Frankenstein (1935) and Son of Frankenstein (1939), serve as comedic clay in Brooks’ capable hands. Hilarious!

The 200^th anniversary of our spiritual mother is a fitting time to watch another film version of your favorite mad scientist and his pitiful creature. Which is your favorite Frankenstein?

Cheers, Donna