From Britain’s Hammer Studios comes this creepy sequel to The Curse of Frankenstein. The not-so-good doctor is up to his old lab tricks again — suturing together arms, legs and torsos in hopes that the sum of the parts will make a greater whole.
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There was always far more to Peter Cushing than playing the irritable commander of the Death Star. He is the best reason to watch this rather uninspired Hammer offering, playing Dr. Frankenstein to debonair perfection as a genius, and bit of a ladies man. Perhaps Grand Moff Tarkin looks so grumpy because he was recollecting all those corseted ladies that had once swooned in his presence.
The Revenge of Frankenstein was well on its way to being the standard forgettable yet solid Hammer fare that does little beyond just entertaining. Instead it takes a brilliantly simple approach at The Monster and goes in such a diabolically brilliant direction for the ending. I loved the ignorant Victorian medical theology about layers of dirt keeping people warm and bathing causing pneumonia.
A stunning and ballsy film, a Frankenstein film without a Monster, an idea picture and a sort of morality play topped with a deliciously evil and ridiculous ending. Hammer's initial horrors are a force to be reckoned with.
Le baron Frankenstein réussit à s'échapper avant son exécution et se rend à Carlsbruck où il poursuit ses expériences grâce aux corps qu'il "emprunte" à l'hôpital qui l'emploie : Fisher toujours aussi inspiré.
The Baron, now working in a hospital, probably thinks he is a good man. That his work will ultimately benefit mankind. A doctor's role, however, of serving society will come to seem increasingly irrelevant. The journey he is on can only reveal more and more of the true monster. The unfolding narrative, also, can only make sense if you go from here to FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED.