The film that kicked it off for Hammer suffers in comparison with The Horror of Dracula, but this still holds up pretty well, chiefly due to Peter Cushing’s Frankenstein.
As opposed to previous incantations of the doctor, which tended to depict him as someone who goes a bit loony then is gripped with remorse (like an alcoholic who sobers up). Cushing’s Frankenstein is a bag egg through and through – he kills a professor to use his brain for his creature, sleeps with his maid but refuses to marry her and organises her death, arranges for the creature to be brought back to life. The monster isn’t very sympathetic either, killing an old man and his grandson (Christopher Lee doesn’t have Karloff’s desire to listen to music or make friends with little girls). Come to think of it, Cushing’s mate is a bit of a prick too – he lies to ensure that Cushing goes to the guillotine at the end.
The photography and art direction aren’t as impressive as alter Hammers but they are still striking and it’s not hard to imagine how they would have blown away audiences. Jimmy Sangster wasn’t a big fan of his own screenplay but it has some great moments (apart from the characterisation of Frankenstein of course): opening on death row, the death of the professor, the creature falling into the acid bath. Lee's monster is ok, not as good as Karloff's but better than, say, Glen Strange; Hazel Court is pretty and the kid who plays young Cushing is hilarious.
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