Dracula, released on St. Valentine’s Day of 1931, singularly saved Universal Studios from bankruptcy. Clearly, monsters equaled money, and the studio cast about looking for another horror property to convert into movie gold. Rushed into immediate production, Frankenstein debuted on November 21, 1931, just seven months after Dracula. Frankenstein was a massive hit—the Jaws of its time—and the studio’s continued viability was assured.
Okay, maybe she didn’t actually say that last part. I couldn’t really pay attention to anything by then because I was concentrating on keeping my head from exploding.
Further proof? When Universal Studios Hollywood needed room to build some Harry Potter stuff, which existing attraction was bulldozed to make way for The Boy Who Lived? Why, the monster-themed “House of Horrors,” of course, only THE GREATEST SINGLE THEME PARK ATTRACTION IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. Actually, it’s worse than that. The “House of Horrors” site didn’t even get to feature a ride… it was bulldozed to make way for the section’s new Starbucks. At least instead of a coffee house, they could have built a quick-service restaurant devoted to hot dogs and beer and named it “Frank ‘N’ Stein.” No joke-- such places have existed and still exist because of the National Zoning Law that requires all hot dog joints to incorporate awful puns in their names. (I’m looking at YOU, “Weiner Take All.”) Look, here’s photographic evidence:
The Plot In Brief: Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) has turned his back on the rest of the world, and toils away at an obsessive experiment to reanimate the dead. With his twisted lab assistant Fritz (Dwight Frye), Dr. Frankenstein robs graves and stitches together pieces of the various corpses. One fateful night, he means to give his creature life.
Meanwhile, Henry’s fiancé Elizabeth (Mae Clarke), friend Victor (John Boles), and former teacher Professor Waldman (Edward Van Sloan) pay a visit to his castle laboratory. They have come at the right time. With a storm raging outside, Henry is forced to let them in, and they have arrived at the very moment that the mad experiment has reached its apotheosis. The Monster from his slab begins to rise. “In the name of God, now I know what it feels like to be God!” shouts Henry in a spasm of joy and personal hubris.
The monster is a violently aggressive brute. This may be due to the fact that its brain, stolen from Professor Waldman’s classroom, once belonged to a criminal; or it may be because Fritz regularly tortures the monster with a flaming torch. Waldman volunteers to humanely end the monster’s life. Things do not go as planned.
It makes me very happy that Mary Shelley’s terrific source novel has enjoyed something of a Renaissance on college campuses in the last thirty years, as more and more literature professors assign it as an early feminist work. Shelley’s mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, was an early feminist, and the book is full of imagery and ideas relating to what one might call “the abomination of male birth.” When women are involved, it’s a natural and beautiful process. When men take over, it involves loud machinery, loads of electricity, and strange chemicals. Clearly, one of the questions bubbling away in Frankenstein’s lab is what exactly happens when males attempt to create life alone. What happens when Dad is put in sole charge of creating the… offspring?
What we get is dysfunction and horror. Look at the film’s three father figures: whiny and irresponsible Henry, affected and sour Professor Waldman, and buffoonish and ineffectual Baron Frankenstein (Frederick Kerr). If these are the Monster’s only sources for paternal guidance, is it any wonder that he has no idea how to treat a child—and that the first child the Monster encounters, he irresponsibly (albeit accidentally) drowns?
Ironically, the film ends with Henry and Elizabeth reunited, their upcoming nuptials assured, and Baron Frankenstein drinking a toast to “A Son to the House of Frankenstein!”
Heaven forbid if Henry ever procreates again.