On the one hand, kudos to Maggie Gyllenhaal for taking such a bold approach to what you could arguably classify as the full-bodied legacy of Mary Shelley. On the other hand, maybe she should have taken some more time to ensure that her bold approach and mix of ideas could be bundled up into something that would work as a satisfying and cohesive movie experience. This absolutely fails, and the bigger failings help to obscure any of the more praiseworthy elements.
Christian Bale plays Frank (the monster, having taken the name of his creator). He walks into the workplace of Dr. Euphronious (Annette Bening) and asks for her help in creating a companion. He's desperately lonely, and so unique that only another creation similar to himself will offer him any hope of a relationship. Enter the corpse of Ida (Jessie Buckley), a woman who ended up being shot by horrible gangsters mere moments after she was possessed by the spirit of Mary Shelley (also portrayed by Buckley). While struggling to figure out whether or not they can have any kind of proper relationship, especially when trying to accept how it has all begun, Ida and Frank quickly become a notorious pairing, for their unique look and their behaviour. Seemingly unable to stop calling attention to themselves, although often due to calling out the behaviour of others, Frank and The Bride soon find themselves pursued by strangers, determined police, and some gangsters who are very surprised to see that Ida has somehow not stayed dead.
While a very divisive movie, I know there are some people out there who have really liked this. I don't know many of them, but I know one or two. So it works for some people. And I can see some of the appeal. It's very admirably bonkers, almost punk in the way that it makes use of some famous genre archetypes to crash through some other archetypes, all while commenting on misogyny and the constantly overlooked misbehaviour of men. Just typing out that sentence has made me wonder if I am about to be too harsh on the thing. But, alas, no. The ingredients aren't mixed together well enough, and the social commentary is picked up and dropped so casually that it may as well be a toy discarded by an over-stimulated child.
I guess that some of the visuals work, and the cast is full of considerable talent and/or people that Gyllenhaal knows well enough to get on board, but the overriding feeling is that this is a feature barely shaped into a tolerable form by someone seriously overreaching.
Some people appreciate the performance from Buckley, especially when considering the variety of personas that she ends up portraying, but I thought it was never nailed down. Perhaps that is the fault of the screenplay and direction, but Buckley certainly suffers most from the material given to the leads. Bale is okay, if a bit disappointingly low-key. The most interesting main character is actually portrayed by Bening, which makes it all the more frustrating when she is so underused. Jake Gyllenhaal brightens things up a bit with his role, playing a movie star from the era, but I cannot say the same for either Peter Sarsgaard or Penélope Cruz, who are disappointingly weighed down by the fact that their characters are more avatars carrying around some of the central themes than proper characters.
Some may love this, and I am glad that the movie exists for them. I suspect that most will dislike it though, and many will absolutely hate it. I find myself closer to that last grouping, and it's only the ambition and confidence of Gyllenhaal, however it was improperly channelled, that has me rating this just a bit higher than I otherwise would.
4/10
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