Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
Posted on August 21, 2005
Filed Under Black and white, Classics, Monsters, Sequels, Uncategorized
Received wisdom dictates that Bride of Frankenstein, James Whale’s own follow-up to his epochal Frankenstein, is one of the few sequels that actually outclasses the original. Bettering a film as magnificent as Boris Karloff’s first outing as the nameless monster is quite a tall order, and although I accept I’m in a minority opinion, I really don’t think the sequel comes anywhere close; instead of the all-conquering masterpiece I was expecting, it’s actually a bit of a curate’s egg.
In between the two Frankenstein films, Whale directed The Invisible Man, a very successful blend of horror and comedy. This more lighthearted approach is self-evident in Bride from the opening scenes, where a woman’s horrified reaction to the monster’s survival is played more for laughs than scares. But whereas the Invisible Man’s invisible-ness lent itself to a certain amount of slapstick comedy (aided by the character’s vicious but snappy one-liners), here it feels rather out of place. Rather than enhancing each other, the horror and the comedy sit rather uncomfortably, as if you’re actually watching two separate films taped together. Worse, the tone of the humour feels all wrong; there’s a sense of conscious self-parody, which is a shame as there’s nothing intrinsically silly about the first film that lends itself to parody. The self-destructive way Whale tears down the delicate suspense of the earlier movie with camp comedy is both sad and petty; it’s well documented that he was reluctant to direct a Frankenstein sequel, but taking the piss on camera doesn’t strike me as being very professional. It also means Bride has dated significantly faster than its predecessor.
This is a shame, as when the mugging stops there’s some really good stuff here that’s easily on a par with Frankenstein. Basically, the plot takes a bunch of storylines from the novel that weren’t used the last time and spins a sequel out of them. This is a sound move, as the novel itself is an underappreciated masterpiece, and it means we get to see gems like the monster’s friendship with the blind man - easily Karloff’s most moving monster moment. Inevitably, Karloff’s just as fabulous the second time round, and even though the actor was opposed to the monster speaking, he pulls it off with aplomb, without detracting from the character’s bruised, awkward tenderness. His tour de force performance also shows up Elsa Lanchester’s performance as the eponymous Bride as being stilted and overly stylised, although her hair shows a clear influence on Marge Simpson. Luckily, her screen time is limited.
As with most Universal monster movies, the whole thing looks tremendous as well, and the climactic sequences with the creation of the Bride are spectacularly compelling. Whale’s direction is more grandiose, and the sets are jaw-dropping, making this a really slick blockbuster. It’s just a shame about the script; the self-mockery doesn’t sit well and cheapens the memory of the first film. I’m not saying horror and comedy can’t mix - the first film had some sublimely comic moments - but the way Whale waves two fingers at the conventions he established isn’t particularly impressive. Obviously history disagrees with me but although I’d recommend seeing it, I’d advise you don’t believe the hype.
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