Movie review - "Frankenstein" (1931) ***1/2

Watching this film immediately after Dracula its striking how much a better made film this is - better directed, scripted and conceived. Such are the benefits of coming second. You know this movie is going to rock from the moment you see Dwight Frye as a hunchback in the first scene.

Boris Karloff makes a brilliant star debut as the monster, so touching and dopey. You really feel for him - brought back to life without being asked by Colin Clive and Dwight Frye, scared of fire but then for some reason continually taunted with it, has scientist Edward Van Sloan try to kill him, then escapes, accidentally kills a young girl without knowing what he is doing (an effective sequence - even though when you think about it, it's not logical even for a moron than you'd throw a girl in the water just because you've run out of flowers to throw in the water), then has a packed mob of people carrying flamed torches come to kill you - led by Clive, the bloke who created you in the first place. Way to go take responsibility for you actions there, Doc! Where does this rich prat get off, son of an artistocrat (there's your problem, right there), making a monster, then collapsing because its too hard and leaving it for Edward Van Sloan to take care of while he goes off and get married, then when it goes on a rampage don't go after it himself but lead a mob.

Having said that, Clive gives a brilliant performance as the intense, mad doctor, who always seems as though he's on the verge of a nervous break down (what did Mae Clarke see in him?) and this sort of ambiguity makes the film a classic. John Boles lumbers through the film like a bulky footballer fronting up at the mid week judiciary. Karloff is the real star - the film could have worked with Lugosi but wouldn't have worked anywhere near as well - Lugosi's persona was too alive, too intense: he'd have been fine, though, as Frankenstein or in the Edward Van Sloan part. Great sets (esp Frankenstein's lair and the house at the end), costumes and of course make up.

I admit every now and then the memory of Young Frankenstein is overpowering and induces chuckles: like Frye stealing the abnormal brain. And what's the deal with that wacky nudge-nudge post wedding night scene at the end? Make sure you catch the version where Karloff actually throws the little girl in the lake and where Clive expressly says he feels like God.