Why Frankenstein (2025) Is One of the Best Shot and Acted Films I’ve Seen
Look, I’ve seen a lot of movies. Occupational hazard. When you’re always hunting for material, studying film, or just trying to forget you’re eating mozzarella sticks alone after a Tuesday night gig in Southern Ohio (no disrespect, Ohio, your bars close early), movies become part of the job.
So when I say Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is one of the best shot and acted films I’ve seen in years, that’s not hype. That’s me putting my tequila and mozzarella sticks down and losing myself in a movie.
This isn’t a “root for the monster” monster movie. It’s a film that made me sit there like, Oh… this is why movies get made.
Jacob Elordi Does Something Special
Let’s start with Jacob Elordi as The Creature, because this performance genuinely knocked me out. I went in expecting the usual — grunting, rain, lightning, some dramatic arm extending. Instead, Elordi gives a heartbreaking performance. More heartbreaking than Jay Kelly (that’s not a dig at Clooney, it was his character).
He completely disappears — not just under the makeup and prosthetics (which are incredible), but in posture, stillness, and vulnerability. He makes The Creature sympathetic without ever making him safe. You feel for him deeply, while also being aware he could tear someone in half if things go sideways.
What really got me — and this is the comedian brain at work — is how Elordi captures intelligence without polish. This Creature is learning everything in real time: language, emotion, rejection. He’s a newborn trapped in an adult body with no emotional regulation. Rage, confusion, longing — it’s all there, never overplayed. The kind of performance that reminds you acting is a craft, not just famous people in nice clothes hitting marks.
Oscar Isaac’s Tightrope
Oscar Isaac’s Victor Frankenstein is just as compelling. He doesn’t play him as a mustache-twirling villain or a tragic saint. He plays him as something much more unsettling: a charismatic guy who is absolutely convinced he’s right.
Isaac nails that arrogance. Not stupidity. The kind of ego (or is it the id?) that destroys lives while insisting it’s progress. An abusive father who refuses responsibility, and a “son” who wants acknowledgment more than revenge — except, you know, with murder strength.
Cinematography
This movie made me notice everything.
Del Toro uses close-ups, colors, and slow pushes like nobody else. And then there’s that shot — the camera traveling through The Creature’s body, into his beating heart. Sounds gimmicky as I type it (and misspell “Creature” four times), but it’s not. It makes it come alive. Might be his “It’s ALIVE!” moment.
The color work is gorgeous and unsettling. Warm sunlight with grotesque imagery. Cold shadows that keep you emotionally off-balance. Like a great Goya painting.
Horror With Actual Humanity
Del Toro never lets the horror drown out the human story. He’s always been great with monsters, but here the monster might be the most human person in the room (him and the sea captain are my favorites). Quiet moments matter. Silence matters.
Alexandre Desplat Understands the Assignment
The score deserves real credit. It doesn’t tell you when to be scared. It tells you when to feel the tragedy. Music that happens to be in a horror film, not “horror music.” If that makes sense.
Why This Hit Me as a Comedian
At its core, this movie is about learning how to be human. Social cues. Emotional feedback. Rejection. Desperate attempts to connect.
That’s… me doing stand-up.
The Creature is performing humanity, learning behavior through observation and imitation, especially with the old man. Watching that, I kept thinking about the line between performance and authenticity.
That question runs through the entire film, quietly, intelligently.
I love Paul Thomas Anderson. Depending on the day, he and Peter Farrelly fight for my personal first place in the Director Hall of Fame. But I didn’t agree with Best Film or Director. In all honesty, I didn’t watch Hamnet.
Frankenstein was snubbed. This movie fires on every cylinder: performance, direction, cinematography, score, philosophical weight. It asks hard questions without announcing them. It lingers. It stays with you.
Not just one of the best horror films of the year. One of the best films, period.