Film Review – Page 174 – Podcasting Them Softly

Review of POWER RANGERS

March 24, 2017 by Joel Copling, posted in Film Review

Dacre Montgomery, Naomi Scott, RJ Cyler, Ludi Lin, Becky G. Directed by Dean Israelite. Rated PG-13. 124 minutes. 2017.

There is a solid start, as well as a firm foundation in its characters, to Power Rangers. That is a surprise for this adaptation of the goofy television series that has just recently entered its 24th season and is primarily known for the over-the-top brand of karate-infused acrobatics employed by the titular superheroes to defeat various, fantastical villains and monsters. In fact, director Dean Israelite and screenwriter John Gatins barely seem interested in introducing the Rangers of the title until the point at which its climax begins, and that ends up being a good decision. I’m getting ahead of myself, though, because for a long time, it’s easy to rally behind these misfits-turned-heroes, thanks to genuine chemistry between the actors and a screenplay that considers how they must end up being Rangers.

The effect is a nice deviation from the beats of the plot that we expect, but it only lasts so long. Until that point, we are introduced to those eventual heroes. The first three meet in detention. Jason (Dacre Montgomery), the Red Ranger, is a disgraced football champion who got into trouble with the law after an incident involving a male bull that was confused for a female cow (Think about it) and an ensuing chase with police. Kimberly (Naomi Scott), the Pink Ranger, was involved with an unfortunate candid-photo incident that drove her to knock a tooth from her boyfriend’s mouth. Billy (RJ Cyler), the Blue Ranger, accidentally blew up his lunchbox. There is an amusing energy to the scenes between the heroes, who also ultimately include Zack (Ludi Lin), the Black Ranger, and Trini (Becky G.), the Yellow Ranger.

This is especially true after the driving narrative is established. The fivesome merge after an incident at a closed-off work site leads them to some glowing rocks and a collision with a train that unintentionally binds each of them to the color signified above. They meet Zordon (Bryan Cranston), a former Ranger who died burying the rocks in order to secure the destiny of five future warriors, and Alpha 5 (voice of Bill Hader), the remarkably annoying robot who has been waiting 65 million years for these warriors. It becomes clear that the warriors could technically have been any five people who stumbled across the glowing rocks, but whatever: They must save the universe from the clutches of Rita Repulsa (Elizabeth Banks), a villainous villainess of villainy who is searching for some sort of other glowing rock thing that’s been hidden away in a Krispy Kreme location (seriously) and who has a leviathan made of gold as her main lackey.

The best scenes of the teenagers accepting their destinies as Rangers include the initial discoveries of their increased strength and speed, a training montage that might be a montage but seems more focused on the physical comedy of teenagers whose hormones are raging as much as their new powers, and a fireside chat in which we learn about some of the issues plaguing the kids (Zack’s mom is ill, Trini is currently questioning her sexuality, Billy is autistic, and Jason and Kimberly are suffering from the ennui of their dull existence in the town). The particulars of the plot held by Rita are hogwash whose conclusion has apparently been left to the inevitable sequel, and the build-up to the climactic action set piece, in which the characters don their suits for the first time, is so long that, when it comes, the visually ugly chaos that ensues is all but entirely anticlimactic. Power Rangers is intriguing enough to make one wonder where a series spent in the company of these characters might lead, but then it becomes a Power Rangers movie.

JAN DE BONT’S SPEED — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

March 24, 2017 by nlclement, posted in Film Review

This is a totally smashing, R-rated action-adventure film, made back in the good-old-days-90’s before the obnoxious and lazy practice of smothering your film in needless, endless CGI became the new norm; no swirling vortexes in the sky to be found here! Joss Whedon and Graham Yost’s zippy and propulsive screenplay presents fully fleshed out characters that are sympathetic and still resemble actual human beings, while the villain that dominates the narrative is especially well-considered and performed by Dennis Hopper. Cinematographer turned director Jan de Bont never crafted a better film while sitting in the helmer’s chair, bringing his innate widescreen visual sense to each robust set-piece, with ace lenser Andrzej Bartkowiak doing some seriously muscular work behind the camera. The pulse-pounding musical score by Mark Mancina amps up the thrills to the max, with leading man Keanu Reeves dropping one of his signature performances, with Jeff Daniels, Sandra Bullock, Alan Ruck, Joe Morton, and many more all doing invaluable back-up work. I can vividly remember seeing this on the big screen on opening night, and how it sent shivers of excitement down my spine. And the best part – this is a movie that proudly holds up over 20 years later, casually brushing off the watered-down, PG-13 competition that has been plaguing the genre for years.

A Week of Monsters – The Invisible Man

March 23, 2017May 10, 2017 by 39frames, posted in Film Review

The Invisible Man

1933. Directed by James Whale.

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The Universal Monsters pantheon has a central theme of loss, with all of the stories focusing on a creature’s bereavement, be it from an errant loved one or surrendering to the murderous side of their nature. James Whale’s The Invisible Man breaks this trend by focusing on the narcissistic aftermath of the protagonist’s transition from mild mannered scientist to preternatural madman. A groundbreaking display of special effects enhances a sordid tale of discover gone awry, departing from traditional romantic Gothic themes and delving into the realm of criminal mayhem.

Claude Rains stars as the titular villain, a promising scientist whose experimentation with pharmaceuticals renders him invisible and unhinged. R. C. Sheriff’s script weaves a farcical tale of madness and murder, with Rains’ interpretation of the material hearkening back to Lang’s Dr. Mabuse films, foreshadowing the eventualities of a certain Clown Prince. The Invisible Man works best when the serious and slapstick combine, keeping the horror and pitch black comedy in harmony while never taking itself too seriously, but also never submitting completely to the satire.

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John Fulton’s special effects are vintage wizardry of the highest form. The Invisible Man’s presentation and the use of wires to simulate obfuscated hijinks are jaw dropping considering the time. While other films had the luxury of a visible monster, Fulton capitalized on the lack of a physical being, allowing the viewer’s mind to conjure the wickedness, making the film’s first act an unforgettable sequence of smoke and mirrors not often replicated to this day. Una O’Conner’s squeamish innkeeper contrasts the underscored menace of Rains’ mysterious patron, leading to one of the film’s best, and absolutely hilarious scenes. Despite the laughs, the film maintains an edge, staying loyal to the blackness that pulses through the heart of the story.

Murder is a complex undertaking. Pre-code Hollywood was unrestricted, allowing Whale to take H. G. Wells’ novel into a realm of anarchy that continues to inspire cinematic villainy to this day. This is reflected in several monologues that highlight Rains’ sinister transition by way of his relationship with an unwilling colleague, expounding upon the nebulous morality at the heart of Wells’ classic novel. While it is the experiment that fractures the Invisible Man’s mind, it is the absence of identity, the unfettered freedom of true anonymity which calls to the dark heart of indulgence.

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Available now for digital rental, The Invisible Man is one of the strongest entries among the Universal Monster films. A maniacal central performance, a layered script, and cutting edge special effects work in tandem to allow Whale’s directorial prowess to deviate from narrative conventions to produce a chilling film that explores greed and mental duress, both of which are bathed in the shadow of gallows humor that infuses every scene of this essential film.

Highly Recommend.

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B Movie Glory: Frogs For Snakes

March 23, 2017 by natewatchescoolmovies, posted in Film Review

They say actors will literally ‘kill for a role’, and in the long forgotten, bizarre NYC set indie flick Frogs For Snakes, that’s the very concept. A handful of Bronx lowlifes all directly involved with criminal kingpin Al Santana (Robbie Coltrane, before he went all Hagrid on us), discover he is putting on a play, and promptly begin to literally murder each other for parts. Now, such a premise should provide a downright brilliant film, but sadly that’s not the case with this dreary gutterball. The possibilities are just endless, and all these miscreants do is just languish in alleyways, decrepit apartments and dive bars, monologuing about.. nothing much at all. It hurts when you have a cast this good in such fuckery as well. Al’s ex wife (Barbara Hershey) works as a debt collector for him, while she pines for her thespian boyfriend (John Leguizamo) who spends the majority of his scenes reciting overblown monologues that have nothing to do with the story, or lack thereof. There’s all manner of creeps and hoodlums running about like New York sewer rats, played by an impressive lineup including Harry Hamlin, Lisa Marie, Ian Hart, Clarence Williams III, Nick Chinlund and briefly Ron Perlman, but none of them have much to do and seem to aimlessly shamble through their scenes as if they were never given much of a script. Being the weirdo that I am though, I did get a sick thrill out of hearing potty mouthed Debi Mazar explicitly describe giving a blowjob to Coltrane’s character, a mental image I won’t soon erase from my head. It’s a whole lot of nothing for the most part though, and kinda makes you wonder how the thing ever got green-lit, let alone attracted such talent. If the film itself were a play, it would be run out of town on opening night.

-Nate Hill

FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA’S TETRO — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

March 23, 2017 by nlclement, posted in Film Review

Tetro is a beguiling film, definitely underrated and rarely discussed; I think it’s one of Francis Ford Coppola’s most interesting and personal films that he’s ever crafted, and I love how the narrative and visual style work to cast this spell of heightened familial discord with a nearly dreamy aftertaste that sometimes makes you question everything you’re being presented with. Set in Argentina, Tetro dives into the lives of two Italian brothers who are natural born rivals, and how the artistic passions that are found in their family have come to define them as men and as artists. Shot in smoky, gorgeous black and white by the eclectic and painterly cinematographer Mihai Malaimare Jr. (his work here apparently caught the eye of Paul Thomas Anderson who drafted him for The Master), Tetro unfolds with a graceful sense of classical storytelling, with shades of noir thrown in to jazz up the background. Vincent Gallo and current flavor of the month Alden Ehrenreich were both superb as the quarreling brothers prone to verbal combat, while everyone in the mostly unfamiliar supporting cast all provided passionate performances. Coppola apparently wrote the script for Tetro while he was editing his divisive Youth Without Youth, and looked to independent European financiers to produce this esoteric yet still accessible piece of cinema.

WRONG: DULL ISLAND

March 23, 2017 by Kent Hill, posted in Film Review

He’s bigger, he’s better and he’s back. He’s King Kong, and this time he is not going to be dragged off Skull Island and taken back to civilization to be paraded around till he takes exception to being someone’s meal ticket, breaks loose his chains and starts a city smashing rampage which ends with a barrage of bullets and a long fall to the asphalt below.

No folks, this time round Kong, now the size of a mountain, is hanging out and keeping the peace on his island. That is until and group of curious humans, led by an alleged Bear Grylls, Tom Hiddleston, Oscar winner Brie Larson who shifts between looking wide-eyed at things and taking photos, John Goodman who knows the truth is out there and Samuel L. Jackson. When you absolutely, positively have to kill every monkey in the room – accept no substitute. This group headlines a cast of who-gives-a-shit characters on a trip to Skull Island where everything is big. Even the ants apparently, but that’s a set piece too far.

The journey to the island is mandatory – montage and music stuff. Then we break through the perpetual storm clouds and have ourselves a bit of an Avatar moment as the crew marvel at the grandeur and beauty of this lost wilderness. Then Kong shows up and goes apeshit. He smashes up the Apocalypse Now homage and then walks off to enjoy a little calamari, ’cause they just don’t make bananas that big. So, with the cast all over the place, Tom and snap-happy Brie and their group are headed from the rendezvous point, Sam and John and that guy who played Private Wilson in Tigerland, plus the other soldiers are off to get some more guns to aid in Sam’s desire to turn the King into fried funky monkey meat.

There’s a giant spider that should make Jon Peters happy. There’s the Watcher in the Water moment. The Soldier who writes to his son bites it, or gets bitten by something unusual, but we don’t get the exposition till we meet up with John C. Reilly looking like his character Gershon Gruen from The Extra Man, minus the collection of souvenirs and the no-testicle high voice. This guy though gives the film a pulse. Oh, and he was the pilot from the beginning, SPOILER! He’s been hanging out on the island with the tribe that speech forgot, waiting to come in and add some much needed comic relief. Turns out there are huge nasties that you can call whatever you want under the ground that Kong has kept from emerging to prominence and getting there own spin-off movie.

This task used to be in the hands of more Kongs, but there is a ‘big one’ of these things that lay waste to them. Now Kong is the only one left who can keep cool, sit tight and keep the creatures in there holes. Of course this film falls into the cash-cow category. They brought back Godzilla, now they make a Kong that’s to scale, in order for the pair to have a decent scrap. But sadly it is a joyless ride. Predictable, laughable, with (and I’m quoting a prior review I’ve read) cardboard cut-out characters that are simply there to fill in the time between Kong and his monster-bashing bits. Heck my son started talking at least 45 minutes out from the end. This tells me that he is board out of his mind and I was with him. But I tried to hang on. I did not fall asleep like I did after the first fifteen minutes of the Conan remake. I have since completely avoided the try-again versions of Clash of the Titans, RoboCop, Ben Hur, Point Break, Total Recall as so on and so forth.

There is a line from James Ivory’s Surviving Picasso in which Anthony Hopkins, as the title character, refers to the methods of artists who have found fame and fortune. He says they make themselves little cake-molds and bake cakes, one after the other, all the same. He then stresses to Natascha McElhone’s Francoise, not to become your own connoisseur. This is extremely relevant and typical of the modern Hollywood. There is little to no attempt at originality, and if there is, it takes place within a film that fits into the friendly confines of a pre-branded property.

But the big ape lives and walks off into the center of his jungle home. He survives his encounter with dim-witted humanity, only to go off and fortify himself for the coming sequels and, quick note on cinematography, Larry Fong gets to send a love letter to his buddy Zack Snyder with a little samurai sword in green smoke action. We have reached that point in the history of the movies dear readers, in which the dead horse has been flogged so often that they have been whipping the bones. Soon all that will be left is the dust of said bones under foot. What are we to expect then? I’m reminded of one of Kevin Costner’s lines from his summation speech in JFK, “perhaps it will become a generational thing.” Ten years goes by and it’ll be, “Well, time to drag a King Kong movie out again.”

Sam Jackson buys the farm much like he does in Deep Blue Sea, swiftly and unexpected, at least for him. I’m starting to believe Hollywood is looking at us the same way. Here we stand, full of confidence, about to witness triumph in whatever form it may appear. Then it becomes like the lead up to the first ever screening of the Phantom Menace. The audience was cheering, poised, ready for the planets to align in complete and utter harmony. The Fox logo. The Lucasfilm logo. A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away. Star Wars. If you watch the documentary The People Vs. George Lucas, one interviewees describes this as perhaps one the greatest moments in cinema history, then, then the film started.

I think it is a frequent occurrence today. There is so much pomp and pageantry surrounding these tent-pole movies that more often than not bad, because to achieve the same level as the hype generated is near impossible. Mind you, there are a few that defy this convention but they are few and far between.

So my favorite Kong is still the one I grew up with, the John Guillermin 1976 version.

People tell me they hate that one too. But to each his own. Kong will most likely be back in a decade after this lot. He’ll be half the size of the planet, ripped and ready to rumble against the Independence Day giant aliens when they decide to return to the best place in the universe, Planet Earth: home and the re-imagination of the adaptation of the sequel of the remake.

He’ll take a huge crap in his mighty hand and fling it at them. Oh if only…

The Dude in the Audience

A Week of Monsters – Dracula

March 22, 2017May 10, 2017 by 39frames, posted in Film Review

Dracula

1931. Directed by Tod Browning.

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A love story steeped in esoteric secrets, Dracula is the flagship of the Universal Monster films. An awkward marriage of the silent era and “talkies”, layered set designs and hypnotic cinematography combine to build an arcane illusion around Bela Legosi’s dark caricature at the center of the story.

Dracula is a well-known story tinged with Gothic horror. From Russell Gausman’s menacing sets to Karl Freund’s legendary cinematography, Dracula is filled with an acrimonious air that chokes every scene. The first act, which focuses on Renfield’s mental corruption, features lonely wide shots of a crumbling manse, a prison of the Count’s design, simulating an memorable experience of dread, beginning with a superstition laced presentation that slowly subverts expectations. The fatal flaw is in Legosi’s often ridiculous delivery, audibly overstating the obvious for perceived effect while his classically trained body language is more than adequate, delivering some of the most iconic scenes in the history of the genre. A looming eye of psychic control and an intense standoff between the hunters and the vampire display a uniquely American take on the German Expressionist legends that Dracula builds upon. This however, creates a source of frustration as the nuances of Stoker’s text are glossed over in an effort to give the ludicrous central performance maximum screen time.

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The beauty of Garrett Fort’s script is in how it captures the romantic flourishes of the novel, both in the pursuit of Mina and in the harriers’ delicate dance with Dracula. The mirror sequence is a masterful example of classical blocking and almost serves as the centerpiece, until Legosi’s bravado derails the mood. There is virtually no perfect film. Flaws can be found in anything, however Dracula suffers because the flaws of its essential performance almost outpace the artistic design, with the Spanish version (made simultaneously on the same lot at night) easily eclipsing the American cut because the crew shot after the Americans, allowing them to analyze the choices made and improve upon them. Atmosphere is everything in Dracula and this is where the film manages to break free of its campy constraints. Shadows enshroud ominous carriages while cautious villages dispense Crosses and well wishes before the darkness falls, transporting the viewer to a time when faith and folklore were weapons of the righteous.

Available now for digital rental, Dracula is a flawed endeavor that is ultimately liberated by an exquisite display of world building that not only ameliorates the damage of Legosi’s near fatal performance, but essentially sets the bar for American horror films with respect to ambiance. Yet another essential entry into Universal’s sinister catalog, Dracula is a nostalgic shocker filled with technical wonders.

Highly Recommend.

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Zach Snyder’s Sucker Punch

March 22, 2017 by natewatchescoolmovies, posted in Film Review

I’m already giggling picturing the cries of protest that will rise up when I post this review, but the hell with it, I really like Zach Snyder’s Sucker Punch. I never deliberately play the contrarian, I just seem to often gravitate towards films that have been maligned by the masses, and I can’t really help it. Now, in this film’s case, a few of the many and varied negative criticisms are somewhat warranted, yet blown out of proportion when you really take a good look at the story. The film is pure style, and although Zachary might have let his imagination run a little wild and clutter the whole affair with fanboy fantasies and video game visuals, there is a clear and discernible story beneath if one cares to look. Now, the only way that story is entirely comprehended is by watching the extended director’s cut, which includes an absolutely crucial, pivotal scene that’s should have never, ever ended up on the editing room floor for the theatrical version. Seriously, they we’re straight up asking for hostility and confusion by not keeping it in every cut of the film, it’s just common sense. Speaking of story, here we go: the film opens in breathless style and classic patented Snyder slo mo, with young Baby Doll (Emily Browning) trying to save her little sister from their tyrannically abusive stepfather. Outsmarted and shipped off to an austere mental institution, her journey is a sad, surreal and somewhat befuddling one, but there’s a method to the madness that might not be clear with only one viewing of the film. The asylum she is sent to is plagued by a sinister orderly (Oscar Isaac) who is abusing the girls in his care, and as a result, Baby Doll channels such horrors into a grandiose set of fantasy worlds, the base of which rests on a burlesque style brothel where she and others work for volatile pimp Blue (also Isaac). Joined by Amber (Jamie Chung), Sweet Pea (Abbie Cornish), Rocket (Jena Malone) and Blondie (Vanessa Hudgens), she blocks out the reality of what is happening and replaces the details of an elaborate, systematic escape attempt with impossibly epic, highly stylized adventures, each of a different theme or set in a vaguely familiar period of history. Battling medieval dragons, giant samurai golems with mini-guns, WWI zombie hordes in a gaunt, bombed out European landscape, it’s all a detailed rush of sound and fury that hits you like a ton of bricks, and although is far too much for the film to handle and still get its point across, it’s completely dazzling stuff, especially on Blu ray. Guided by a mysterious Wise Man (a kickass, rootin tootin Scott Glenn) who shows up in a different get up each time and mentored by brothel Madam of sorts Vera Gorski (Carla Gugino), each setting holds the key to move along a certain cog in their plan, correlating back down the line of delusions straight to the asylum, if a little tenuously. Now it all hinges on the arrival of the High Roller (Jon Hamm), a rich playboy who has come to the brothel to see Baby Doll dance, and probably more. Here’s where they fucked up royally: The scene I mentioned earlier is a monologue from him that is pretty much one of the most important parts of the film, capping off both realities beautifully, and without it, not only is Hamm relegated to basically a walk on extra, the entire final punch of the climax is rendered lost and neutered, not too mention quite uncomfortable in a sense. Whoever was in charge of that particular piece of the editing should be tarred, feathered and run off the studio lot by teamsters. With the scene left in on the extended version, however, the story is given both point and purpose, feeling like a complete vision with a little weight to go along with it’s Hindenburg sized bag of visual tricks. Not Snyder’s best for sure, but it’s in no way close to the turkey some people will have you believe it is. Whiners. Style over substance? Yes, I’ll definitely concede there’s an imbalance, but don’t try and tell me the whole thing is bereft of substance at all, because that is a lazily researched argument. The soundtrack is a treasure chest, I might add, with beautiful covers of Sweet Dreams and Sing Me To Sleep sung by Browning herself.

-Nate Hill

BRIAN DE PALMA’S PASSION — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

March 22, 2017 by nlclement, posted in Film Review

Brian De Palma’s sleazy, slick, and super-sexy neo-noir Passion from 2012 has all the director’s trademark ingredients: murder, deceit, jealousy, split-screens, Pino Donaggio, sapphic tendencies, stedicam shots that go on forever, dreams, twins, kink, 70’s, 80’s, and so much more. Rachel McAdams and Noomi Rapace absolutely killed it and clearly had lots of fun playing two highly sexualized women; they were both delectable pawns for De Palma to playfully mess around with. The film is a sort-of-remake of Alain Corneau’s 2010 thriller Love Crime, but with De Palma drastically changing the ending to his film. José Luis Alcaine’s shimmery cinematography took maximum advantage of the stylish production design and the gorgeous faces and bodies on display; his superb work with Pedro Almodovar no doubt left a strong impression on De Palma, as Alcaine’s innate understanding of how to light women is in full effect all throughout Passion, which was shot on 35mm film and mostly on location in Berlin. While not a masterpiece like Femme Fatale, Passion is an extremely fun and self-reflexive effort from the master of the macabre that shows that when provided the chance, he can still deliver over the top thrills with elegant visual panache.

A Week of Monsters – Frankenstein

March 21, 2017May 10, 2017 by 39frames, posted in Film Review

Frankenstein

1931. Directed James Whale.

A definitive example of man playing God that moonlights as a tragic examination of how sons are defined by their fathers, James Whale’s Frankenstein is an adaptation of Mary Shelley’s legendary Gothic novel with a surprisingly dark adherence to the source material. An unforgettable lead performance, unnerving set designs, and brooding cinematography combine to deliver a seminal film about the nature of identity and the dark wonders of parenthood.

Dr. Frankenstein creates a living being from harvested corpses in the European countryside. His creation quickly gets out of control, setting off a pulse pounding, sorrow filled manhunt that forces the Doctor to confront his vain attempts at omnipotence. Boris Karloff stars as the Monster, a role that would jettison him to the heights of horror character acting. His ability to communicate childlike awe through the hideous filter of an abomination is both terrifying in its power and pitiable in its summation. Colin Clive supports as Dr. Frankenstein, the mad genius who dares disturb the universe. His chemistry with Karloff is not given enough time to grow, but the fundamentals of their relationship are abundantly clear, bordering on satire. Fathers often defend the deeds of their offspring while failing to grasp how their own actions were essential to the process and the doctor is no exception.

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Arthur Edeson’s eerie cinematography is transformative. The tight, bizarre framing of the laboratory scenes are contrasted by the sharp angles of civilization. The black and white colors become more defined as the story moves to the doomed marriage of the second act, reminding the viewer that there is always a cost by making everything appear real when compared to the fever dream sequences of the beginning. Jack Pierce’s makeup design eschews the inhuman appearance from the novel in favor of something almost human, giving the creature the appearance of a monstrous savant, an unholy man-child whose hulking form is encased in a Spartan, but unforgettable pauper’s ensemble designed by Mae Bruce.

The screenplay captures the high notes of the novel, allowing for some darker, pre-Hays code departures including an accidental drowning and a harrowing showdown amidst a burning mill that would eventually be censored. Despite the astounding technical elements, Frankenstein never gets to the heart of Shelley’s material, with everything riding on the monster’s massive shoulders, overshadowing the moments in between by rushing to creature’s next chilling appearance. Whale’s directorial presence is minimal, letting his cast do the work and coasting to each set piece without ever grabbing the viewer by the throat. At its core, this is a tragedy masquerading as a horror film. This initially seems like a minor flaw, but future offerings in the series would unabashedly display the terrifying (in)human elements that are possible for such a film, a reminder of Frankenstein’s flaws.

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Available now for digital rental, Frankenstein is a classic horror film whose importance to the medium remains relevant today. While falling short of its follow up, Frankenstein spins a familiar, but satisfying tale of mad science and the anathema of its design. Featuring outstanding set pieces and a soulful central performance, this is an excellent starting point for exploring the Universal Monster canon or a spooky trip down memory lane during the Halloween season.

Highly Recommend.

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