When
we are first introduced to him, Waldman's appearance differs greatly
from what is described in the novel. Shelley presents to us a
distinguished man in his 50s with black hair touched by gray, with
excellent posture, a look of benevolence and "his voice the
sweetest I have ever heard" (41). In the movie, we are presented
with a somewhat wild looking man with long gray-white hair and a
somewhat gruff voice. This change of appearance was likely done to
give us a Waldman who is already a bit off, because of the topic of
his research, and slightly on the fringe of society, but also because
Branagh wants to give us the vision of another lone mad scientist
with whom this Victor can relate. It is also likely that Branagh
thought his audience would write off the anti-hero that is Shelley's
Frankenstein, and decided to thin him down into a more likable and
more sympathetic character. Although this probably did help a movie
being released to an audience who may have found the superficial
Victor appalling, I find this difference to be significant because of
Victor's nature. It is made very clear that Victor does not take to
Professor Krempe because of his appearance and voice. I doubt that
the Victor of the novel would have taken such a keen interest in the
teachings of the professor portrayed in the film after his write off
of the "little squat man (Krempe), with a gruff voice and
repulsive countenance" (40). This more accepting version of
Victor may not seem like such a big deal, but it changes Victor's
character completely. Mary Shelley's Victor is rich, spoiled,
privileged, sheltered and very judgmental. Growing up, he is, in his
own words, his parents' "plaything and their idol... the
innocent and helpless creature bestowed on them by Heaven..."
and "so guided by a silken cord that all seemed but one train of
enjoyment..."(24). This spoiled and privileged upbringing gives
us a Victor who is unable to deal with consequences of actions and
passive to the point of inaction even in dire circumstances. In other
words, the fact that he is a spoiled, judgmental, megalomaniac brat
is a major driving force of the entire story. To remove some of that
through his acceptance of this wild and uncouth Professor Waldman is
to remove some of the fabric of the novel. It takes someone who sees
himself as an endowment of Heaven to us lowly creatures here on Earth
to contemplate creating a race of super-beings who would look to him
as a God.
The
ambitions and professions of several of the main characters change in
this film. In the novel, Victor is sent to school in Ingolstadt for
nothing more explicit than to "be made acquainted with other
customs than those of [his] native country" (35). In the film,
however, Victor is going to Ingolstadt to become a doctor just like
his father. Consequently, Waldman is no longer just a professor of
Chemistry, but a medical doctor involved in his own research and even
in the preservation of the health of the town. This takes some of the
mystery and intrigue away from Victor's character. Instead of
learning to apply his education on his own, we see him, instead,
learning how to dissect cadavers under the skilled tutelage of
Professor Waldman. Instead of a vision of Victor alone in his
apartment contriving of the means to create life through the use of
dead tissue and some arcane "spark" of life, we have a
student trying to complete the last step in a research process his
teacher just didn't have the hardihood of nature to complete. Waldman
is almost a Frankenstein-lite in his portrayal. In the film, Victor
is introduced to the idea of electric current in the reanimation
process by the professor and even shown that it works through the
reanimated arm of some primate creature. The professor is also shown
to aid Victor in the formation of his theories. This was
presumptively done, again, to give us a more relatable and thus human
Victor. Movie fans like relatable characters, and even like larger
than life characters, but they usually don't like arrogant,
privileged, and almost villainous larger than life characters.
However, this thinning of Victor's great intelligence and creativity
also served to thin Victor's character as a whole. It has to be
Victor creating the monster in seclusion using his own vast
intelligence. It has to be Victor Frankenstein, not only because his
megalomania drives the story, but because of the impact that his
character, as written, had on the very archetype of the mad
scientist. "Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Moreau, Dr. Cyclops, Dr. Caligari,
Dr. Strangelove, Dr. Rukh, Dr. Bluthgeld" and a host of mad
scientists owe their fictional lives to Victor creating that monster
on his own (Haynes, 245). It is much harder to believe that these
fictional giants would have turned out quite the way they did if
instead of a lone mastermind alone in his lab toying with nature, we
had a student, fulfilling the culmination of his mentor's work.
The
motivation for the creation or restoration of life is described to us
in the novel as being a mix of wanting to feel what it is to be a
creator and the renewal of life where it has departed. "No
father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I
should deserve theirs. Pursuing these reflections, I thought, that if
I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might in the process
of time... renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to
corruption" (49). The arrogance and grandiose plans of creating
a race of beings is completely left out of the film. After his mother
dies in child birth, not from Scarlet fever, Victor chooses to devote
his study at medical school to preventing another of his loved ones
from ever dying and finds, as I have already described, a mentor in
Professor Waldman. However, the director decided to use the expanded
role of the professor in another way as well: as another catalyst in
Victor's passion. While attempting to prevent an outbreak of Cholera
in Ingolstadt, the professor is stabbed by a vagrant, who doesn't
want anything to do with the doctor's needles, and dies while Victor
tries in vain to save his life. This episode leads Victor to attack
his work with even more ardency than before. Branagh, no doubt, was
well aware that adding a god-complex into the mix would make the
character far less likable. Instead, he furthers the idea of a
grieving son trying to prevent losing another loved one by giving him
a shocking reminder that death is always looming. Anyone who has ever
lost a loved one knows that in that moment, we would do anything to
prevent or reverse the event. In the the loss of the god-complex in
his endeavors Victor's character is rendered more human and... less
intriguing. Sure, the death of his mother was definitely a catalyst
but, as I have already described in some detail, Victor's megalomania
is a, if not the, driving force behind the entire novel. Removing the
desire to become a benevolent creator destroys yet another part of
this force. Here we lose a Victor who hikes through the Alps
imagining the mountains as grand structures and as the homes of
omnipotent creatures and seemingly placing himself among them (100).
A man who thinks of himself this way is absolutely necessary to
maintain Shelley's complex story, but instead we have a man driven by
very non-God-like emotions like grief and anger; a relatable but
deflated fleetingly-mad scientist.
Finally,
but probably most astounding, even in death Waldman's presence
continues. Victor, in his quest to procure "materials" for
his work, robs Waldman's grave and uses his brain for the creation.
This is absolutely astounding. I do not doubt that Victor desired to
give the creature the best brain he could find. It was described in
the novel how he picked what he thought would be the very best skin,
muscles, and hair (53). However, there was never a personal
connection with any of the parts Victor used. Although a personal
connection to the monster beyond its creation may seem to make the
plot of the movie more complex or to further the expression of
Victor's mad passion, this move does not seem to fit Victor's
character as someone detached from the reality and consequences of
what he is doing and what is happening around him. In fact, as a
teaser for the film, the director seemed to put a conscious effort
into eliminating the detached passivity of Victor's character. In the
film, he is often “saved” from action by circumstances outside of
his control so he cannot be viewed as passive, just stuck. Passivity,
as has been mentioned over and over on this Blog, is a central, if
frustrating, theme throughout the novel. It is this detachment from
consequences that serves to make Victor more and more wretched
throughout the novel. He immediately flees from his creation upon
seeing what he has done (though in the film, this is more out of his
control) and hides from it, even allowing himself to slip into
comfort again until he is jogged back to reality by the death of
William (67-71). He refuses to intervene on Justine's behalf during
her trial (though in the movie, he has no chance as she is
immediately lynched) even though he knows who actually killed William
(92). Instead of pursuing resolution, he goes for a pleasant hike in
the Alps (99). It is this passivity that keeps the book going.
Furthermore, it is very possible that Shelley was trying to use
Victor's passivity to highlight the passivity of her own culture
(Shrader-Frechette and Westra, 145-146). Instead, the film takes
several opportunities to remove the fault of inaction from Victor,
removing hubris and replacing it with unavoidable circumstance.
Branagh, doubtless, wanted to remove this passivity to give us a
Victor who is victim of circumstance and not of his own inaction or
ineptitude. What is striking is that even in 1994, almost 200 years
after the novel was published, Branagh could have made the same point
but chose instead to make the character more likable.
Kenneth
Branagh chose to give us a more relatable, deflated version of Victor
Frankenstein. This was probably a ploy to sell movie tickets and VHS
cassettes, but it does not deserve to be called “Mary Shelley's
Frankenstein.” This is not the character Mary Shelley wrote nor
would Victor Frankenstein be one of the literary cornerstones of the
Mad Scientist archetype if this was what she intended. A mad
scientist is not supposed to be relatable, that's why they aren't
commonplace and they're intriguing to read about and see adapted to
film.
_______________________________________________________________
Haynes R (2003) From alchemy to artificial intelligence: Stereotypes of the scientist in Western literature. Public Understanding of Science 12: 243–53.
Shrader-Frechette, K., and Westra, L. Technology and Values. Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield, 1997. eBook.
Shrader-Frechette, K., and Westra, L. Technology and Values. Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield, 1997. eBook.
1 comment:
Your introduction is set up almost like a film review. I'm not totally opposed to reading an attack on Branagh, but I think it raises the question - why bother? If all we can say about a film is that it deviates heavily from the book, is it even worth saying. *Bride of Frankenstein* deviates tremendously from the novel, but is a great film in its own right - noting that it isn't faithful is an interesting starting point to a discussion. But if there isn't anything to say beyond the starting point (which your introduction implies), why even start?
Your analysis of ways in which the characters have changed remains good. The paragraphs could be a little more broken up - an important technical point - but I have no *problem* with anything here, nor anything to add (it seems to have changed little, which is fine).
Minor complaint: "Movie fans like relatable characters, and even like larger than life characters, but they usually don't like arrogant, privileged, and almost villainous larger than life characters." I'd be insane to completely disagree, but there sure are exceptions. How about Hannibal Lector, for instance?
"a relatable but deflated fleetingly-mad scientist" - I think you're avoiding talking about any possible values that this film might be expressing. Now, I'm not crazy about the film - but a saner Victor Frankenstein, one rooted in medicine not just in the abstract but in the actual practice of medicine, potentially has a humanistic dimension, even a compassionate streak. Why? You say it just makes him more sympathetic, and surely that's part of it - but do we have to dismiss it so easily? What are the alternatives? What actual *agenda* beyond ticket sales could this movie possibly be serving? I think that's a question worth exploring. If you end up dismissing it, fine - but I wouldn't just deny that it's possible that Branagh has an agenda worth thinking about.
"What is striking is that even in 1994, almost 200 years after the novel was published, Branagh could have made the same point but chose instead to make the character more likable." Again - isn't it conceivable that he had a more articulate purpose? Here's my theory (keeping in mind that I haven't seen the film in a while). By becoming about medicine and the failures of medicine - by being about an articulate attempt at a kind of resurrection (of Waldman, who, dare I say, might represent medicine itself) maybe the movie becomes less a critique of Victor Frankenstein himself (as you argue effectively) and more a critique of the failures or limitations of medicine.
To boil my argument down to a sentence: in Branagh's film, the madness comes less from the man and more from the institution of medicine.
You don't need to agree with that idea (I'm not at all sure that I buy it myself), but to explore the possibility that Branagh is doing *something* makes the essay itself much more worthwhile.
Overall: You explore many of the dimensions of the film very well, and lay out a good, detailed set of contrasts. Your relatively timid (certainly unambitious) findings contrast with the eye for detail. You could have pushed the argument harder.
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