“To a new world of gods and monsters!”
Like its namesake, Bride of Frankenstein is a beautiful creature, improbably created out of bits and pieces of what had come before. (Elements of different earlier treatments and screenplays found their way into the final film.) It was also, at first, spurned by its creator – director James Whale – who initially refused to have anything to do with a sequel, saying he felt he had plumbed all the depths available in the first Frankenstein film. And, just as in Bride, the promise of another creation pulled him back into the (film) lab. (He was able to make a passion project – 1934’s One More River – as a result of his negotiations to make Bride.)
Despite its inauspicious beginnings, Bride became one of the best sequels of all time – arguably better than the original, 1931 Frankenstein – and an instant classic. It made an icon out of Elsa Lanchester, who made the most out of her 3 or so minutes of screen time as the title character. It also represents the peak of the first cycle of the Universal monster films, if not of the entire series. A complex production with layered allegory, amazing effects, startling imagery, and a healthy leavening of dark humor, Bride of Frankenstein is a triumph of technical and creative skill in filmmaking, and a worthy entry into the ScreenAge Wasteland Canon.
What Bride of Frankenstein Means to Us
You rarely hear modern audiences mention The Bride of Frankenstein when listing the best film sequels of all time. But there’s no reason that it shouldn’t be considered up there. It expands and expounds upon everything that is introduced in Frankenstein. From the brilliantly meta opening featuring Mary Shelley’s praising her terrifying story to the iconic ending reveal of the bride in all her glory and everything in between, it’s easy to understand the full magnificence of this movie. Next Halloween, instead of opting for a shlocky gore-fest, do yourself a favor and opt for one of the early icons of the horror genre.
–Raf Stitt
Imagine what this film’s reputation would be like if the Internet existed when it came out. You can apply that hypothetical to just about any movie and the answer would be the same but I truly feel like this movie, more than most, would’ve gotten eviscerated by the armchair critics of the day. Not because it’s boring or dated or less scary than the original but because of the screen time of the titular bride. I know for a fact that it would’ve been an issue because that’s all anyone who had never seen a Godzilla movie before complained about after Godzilla (2014) came out. Even though he has more screentime in it than eight other Godzilla movies (including the original) and only 30 seconds less than three others, everyone immediately assumed the 2014 one had the least amount of screentime. Now imagine what their reaction would be like when they sat down to watch a movie called The Bride of Frankenstein and she’s only in the damn thing for roughly three minutes. They would’ve lost their goddamn minds. But that’s the beauty of this movie.
Her eventual reveal is a magic trick that convinces you she’s in it a lot more than she is. Elsa Lanchester’s performance (coupled with Jack Pierce’s iconic make-up) is the blueprint for every performance of that ilk. Whether it be an alien or robot or something other that’s slowly discovering what it means to be human ala Scarlett Johansson in Under the Skin, Daryl Hannah in Splash, or Emma Stone in Poor Things, all roads lead back to Lanchester. In just three minutes, she runs the gamut of emotions, including bewildered, inquisitive, and eventually outright terror. It’s not my favorite Universal monster performance (that would be Claude Rains in The Invisible Man) nor do I think it’s the best (that would be Boris Karloff in the original Frankenstein) but it’s easily the most impressive. The Bride is an undeniable icon of horror despite never appearing in any other movie and having less than 3 minutes of screen time. It’s unreal what she was able to accomplish in that amount of time. And she’s not even my favorite thing about the movie!
Doctor Praetorius is far less iconic but he’s one of my all-time favorite mad scientists in film. I think his unhinged energy creates a perfect counterbalance to Clive and gives that actor something to work opposite against. I personally think Colin Clive is a bit underwhelming in the original Frankenstein (not bad, just less interesting than other interpretations of the character I have seen) but here he feels far more engaged. I think Thesiger gives him a great foil to go up against and that character is a really interesting story choice. I think his subplot and performance, along with Elsa Lancaster’s Bride make this a sequel on par with the original. And that’s high praise.
–Sailor Monsoon
Gone Too Far to Stop – Making the Bride
Universal had planned a sequel to the immensely popular Frankenstein before it had even been released. Director James Whale, however, had other plans, choosing to move on from a well he considered dry. Instead, he would make a mystery, a comedy, and two more horror films – The Old Dark House (as much a dark comedy as a horror film) and The Invisible Man (purportedly Whale’s favorite of his films). The Old Dark House in particular would have an influence on Bride of Frankenstein, as it starred Boris Karloff, Ernest Thesiger – who would go on to play Doctor Praetorius in Bride – and Charles Laughton. While Laughton himself wouldn’t appear in Bride, his wife, Elsa Lanchester, would eventually embody the title character. (Though Whale apparently considered casting Brigitte Helm, who had so memorably played another non-human character, Futura, in Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.)
Boris Karloff – billed solely by his last name in the credits – returned to play the Monster he had made famous. He had misgivings about the script, however, and would later publicly speak about his preference for the first film. In particular he disliked the choice to have the Monster speak, preferring the inarticulate brute of the first film. The choice also meant that he couldn’t remove his dentures, making the Monster’s face have a less sunken appearance.
Of the rest of the original cast, only Colin Clive and Dwight Frye returned. (Frye would play a completely different henchman, though he would still draw the ire of the creature, as if the monster remembered his previous antics.) The part of Elizabeth Frankenstein was recast with then 17 year old Valerie Hobson. Other new actors included E. E. Clive as the Burgomaster and Una O’Connor as Minnie, the Frankenstein’s dramatic maid.
The two most important new actors, Lanchester and Thesiger, would create indelible characters of the horror movie genre. Lanchester did double duty as the Bride and as Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley in the opening sequence, playing both creator and creation. Thesiger’s arch and campy Doctor Pretorius embodied both dark humor and ultimate evil, never missing a chance to drop a witty quip or have a closeup in dramatic lighting.
Makeup genius Jack Pierce also returned to do the creature effects, excelling his work on the previous film. He took particular care with Karloff’s Monster, starting the film with obvious burn damage to his face and hair and making sure it appeared to heal over the course of the film.
More Like Black Magic – The Alchemy of Bride of Frankenstein
Bride of Frankenstein starts on the proverbial dark and stormy night. Three figures – Lord Byron (Gavin Gordon, The Mystery of the Wax Museum), Percy Shelley (Douglas Walton), and Mary Shelley provide a recap of the original film and then the camera closes in as Mary begins her tale of what happened after. We’re then taken back to the burning wreckage of the windmill from the end of the first film. Only minutes have passed, but Whale wastes no time in bringing the Monster back – he survives in the cistern below the smoldering wreckage and soon claims his first victim, Hans, the father of the little girl killed in the first film.
Whale’s watchword for Bride seems to have been “more.” More Karloff – with the Monster given additional screen time and a storyline that expanded on the creature’s pathos. More effects – not just monster makeup, but optical trickery like Pretorius’ bottled creations and crackling electric paraphernalia in Frankenstein’s lab. More characters – with Thesiger’s Pretorius and O. P. Heggie as the blind hermit being standouts. And, of course, more monsters – though the film could exist without the Bride (she’s never animated in the original novel), it wouldn’t be the same film and would absolutely be a lesser one.
The film seems to constantly teeter on the edge of ridiculousness. The Monster is captured and chained to an enormous chair in the dungeons, one that seems designed solely to hold a creature like him. Pretorius seems incapable of a normal expression, with eyebrows constantly arched and sneer permanently affixed. Colin Clive’s Frankenstein seems even more mad than in the original film, despite attempting to leave his experiments behind. The Bride herself is an exercise in excess, all towering hair, bandages and jittery movements. The sets are all immense, towering and full of shadows. Yet these elements, and the incredible score by Franz Waxman, combine to weave a spell that completely binds the audience. We buy in, despite the miniature kings and queens and the dinners in crypts, and we are transported. Bride of Frankenstein is a roller coaster of sound and sight, with no one extravagant moment given enough time for us to really question the whole. The original Frankenstein is a dark and intense film, while Bride – despite its imagery and subject matter – is a spectacle, crackling with energy and life.
Love Dead, Hate Living – The Monster
Despite the title, Karloff’s monster is the heart of the film, and Whale presents him as a more child-like figure, wanting only to be accepted, and driven to anger only when confronted, rejected or (as happens early on) shot. There are a number of interesting images that present the Monster as Christ-like, as when the villagers tie him to a pole and lift him into a waiting hay wagon. It’s hard to know how seriously the film wants us to take this, however, and it could easily be Whale having a bit of fun. It is a little hard to reconcile this characterization with some of the random deaths attributed to the monster, particularly a little girl found beside a path and a married couple murdered in their home. (Seriously, when does the Monster have time to do that, anyway?)
A number of other murders were cut, partly due to censors and partly due to their effect on our perception of the Monster as a wounded innocent. A key sequence in the film occurs when the Monster stumbles on the cabin of a blind hermit. Unable to see the creature, the hermit welcomes him into his home and calls him friend. Despite Karloff’s stated preference for a mute Monster, these scenes are lent even more emotional depth by his few utterences. “Friend, good!” Sadly, a pair of hunters (including an uncredited John Carradine) interrupt this idyl and the monster once again finds himself on the run. While hiding out in a crypt he finds another unlikely ally – Dr. Pretorius.
The Monster’s need is our own need – to belong, to be accepted, to experience love – and so it’s understandable that he becomes Pretorius’ willing pawn in the scheme to create a female creature. He’s the only reason Henry even agrees to the experiment (though you know a part of him always wanted to), after kidnapping Elizabeth. I love one particular moment, when Henry tries to confront the monster and the monster gestures at him and growls “sit down!” Henry does so (I would too). It’s a direct reference to a similar moment in the original film when Henry demonstrates his control over the Monster. Now it is the Monster who is in control.
Sadly, but inevitably, you can’t make someone love you, or even like you, and the Monster experiences the ultimate rejection from one of his own kind. The Bride isn’t responsible – she’s alive for mere moments when confronted with the Monster’s hopeful face – but that final rejection is too much. A last gesture of humanity “You… live!” gives Henry and Elizabeth an escape before destruction by convenient lever. I feel for the Monster, I do, but if it was up to me, I’d have the Bride and Elizabeth – the only real innocents – escape instead.
The Devil That Prompts You – The Madmen
Poor Henry Frankenstein – every time he thinks he’s out, Pretorius pulls him back in. Not that he’s trying that hard to get out, really. Half his conversations are about how he’s ready to leave the creation of life behind, but the other half are all about how maybe he’s meant to emulate God, or how fascinating the process of creating life is. In the end he only goes back to the experiment because of threats to his wife, but you can tell by his crazed look and willingness to look the other way at “fresh” body parts that he’s also caught up in the madness one more time.
Pretorius, on the other hand, has no inner, or outer, conscience. From his first appearance we know – this guy is as mad as a hatter. Thesiger invests the character with such energy and satanic glee that he’s always a joy to watch on screen, despite his obvious villainy. John J. Mescall’s camera is also always shooting him from below and with dramatic lighting, which plays fantastically with Thesiger’s face. Even the Bride doesn’t get as many dramatic closeups as Pretorius. While he takes something of a second seat to Frankenstein in the laboratory, I still think of Pretorius as the epitome of the mad scientist. Happily using a coffin as a dinner tray, laughing to himself, blackmailing others, and using monsters and thugs as lackeys. The only thing he’s missing is the secret lab, and he’s got Henry for that. Somehow the Monster can see that Pretorius is even worse than Frankenstein – who may or may not leave all the mad scientisting behind with the right influence. Pretorius is just going to try and do all this again, if he’s allowed to.
A minor shoutout to Dwight Frye’s Karl. He’s not as riveting as the other two, but he gets some great lines. (My personal favorite being when they open a coffin to find a skeleton – “Pretty little thing, in her way, wasn’t she?”)
She’s Alive! Alive! – The Bride
The Bride, as we’ve mentioned repeatedly, is only on screen for roughly three minutes, but that’s all it took to cement her place in cinema history. Yes, Jack Pierce’s makeup is part of what makes the character iconic – that lighting bolt hairdo, the straight eyebrows, the well-placed scars, the sheet over bandages – but without Elsa Lanchester’s performance it would have been so much monstrous window dressing. Lanchester invests the Bride with absolutely alien intelligence. This creature does, after all, have a brain grown in a vat, and it exhibits behavior never before seen in a living thing.
The Bride’s rapid, bird-like movements were based, in part, on the movements of the robot Futura from Metropolis, but while that might have provided the template, Lanchester makes it her own. Swaying, staring, her mouth never quite set in a way that makes you comfortable. And when she sees the Monster – oh so hopeful – for the first time, that aborted shriek is perhaps the most alien thing about her. She’s gets the hang of it eventually, but Whale and his editing never want us to forget – this, too, is a monster, despite her appearance. That final hiss as the Monster pulls the lever is filled not with fear or dismay, but black-eyed hate.
Every second the Bride is on screen you’re riveted. Even the way she looks at her hand in the Monster’s is fascinating. You want to see more of her. I’ve already said I kinda wanted only the Bride and Elizabeth to survive. Yet, would she be as iconic without the brevity of her appearance? We’ll never know. Unlike the majority of Universal’s monsters, the Bride never showed her hairdo again. While there have been remakes and reinterpretations, Lanchester’s Bride is the only one of her kind.
Legacy
With its heady mix of horror, humor, action and special effects, Bride of Frankenstein was the blockbuster film of its day. The same formula still works, and you can find elements of similarity in any modern action film – especially those with a hint of social relevance. The Bride herself has inspired dozens of remakes, reinterpretations and imitators – Sailor mentioned a few in his section above. And Pretorius is the iconic mad scientist, all “can we” and no “should we.”
I have two movie posters in my office – The Night of the Living Dead and Bride of Frankenstein. Bride has, since I first watched the movie as a child, been one of my favorite films. It often occupies the top spot, occasionally trading places with The Thing and a handful of others. I love pretty much everything about it, from the opening parlor scene to the final, explosive finale. It’s the Bride that haunts my dreams, however. Her, and the sad-eyed, monosyllabic Monster, wanting a friend and finding – for the most part – only other monsters, albeit in more human shape.
Got your own thoughts on Bride of Frankenstein? Favorite quotes, scenes or characters, or maybe how it fits into the history of cinema? Sound off in the comments below!
