Belated Movie Reviews

You mean I’m built of Legos?

The Bride (1985) is an odd collage of pieces: mostly good acting, good cinematography, uninspired dialog, jumpy editing, a dubious grasp of physics, and at least some characters who act in odd ways, to the point where the audience may lose interest and wander off. It’s billed as an interpretation of Shelley’s Frankenstein, but perhaps it would be better described as a reinterpretation of Bride of Frankenstein (1935), although I confess I have not yet seen the latter, while I have read the former (but remember little).

First, the good parts. Clancy Brown turns in an excellent performance as the first construction of Dr. Frankenstein, built of dead parts and named Viktor, but surprisingly good-natured about his entire ordeal. David Rappaport takes on the role of Rinaldo, who befriends the Monster, the pair working up a circus act through which they’ll enrich themselves. Jennifer Beals turns in a credible performance as Eva, Frankenstein’s second construction, although her mouth hangs open a bit too much. The cinematography, as noted, seems adequate to the job.

But then we come to the bad parts: a dialog that inspires little interest, except for Browns, which he delivers with a certain meditative spirit; the editing, which jumps and jumps and jumps (perhaps this is a result of watching the TV version, in its defense);  the physics. For example, when Eva is brought to life, the electrical storm sparks a fire and explosion. Judging from the damage done to the heavily built tower, everyone inside should have been badly hurt, even pulped.

And the story. Oh, the story is a story of conveniences. For example, and continuing from our physics example, the story would have been hopelessly confused if Baron Frankenstein had thought his first creation was on the loose after the tower explosion, so he assumes – with no body found – that Viktor died in the explosion and fire, and even walls up the entrance to the tower. When Viktor eventually makes his appearance, the Baron is barely surprised – perhaps this is partly the fault of Sting, who portrays the Baron in a remarkably one note performance. Another example is a scene in which Viktor wishes to buy a necklace for Eva. The merchant is handed a bag full of coins, and it seems clear he’ll be taking advantage of the rather naive construct, until at the last moment he selects a single coin and hands the balance back to Viktor.

This could have been a telling moment in another story, if it were followed up properly. Alas, we’re in this story, and it’s not followed up. It stands there like a callow youth, rejected in his first advance to a partner, unsure what to do or what it means. Less of a convenience than a puzzlement, as is the phenomenon of some sort of weak, psychic link between the two constructs. Why? It doesn’t serve a purpose – except to disinterest the viewer.

The balance of the story is not quite so arbitrary, but it is predictable – the Baron wishes to rape Eva, Viktor finally comes back from his circus tour, yada yada yada.

I am not unaware that the movie reached for the level of veiled allusions. For example, at one point a book concerning Prometheus is tossed into a fireplace: not only a visual pun, but also a reference to the full title of Shelley’s novel – F.; or the Modern Prometheus. Victor was the name of the Baron in the novel; Eva, who is represented as having been trained to have a liberal mind on an equal footing with men, may herself represent Mary Shelley, who was raised by a father with highly liberal views for his time. But these are irrelevant as the story is not up to the basic task of entertainment, of involvement. They’re nothing more than Trivial Pursuit questions, when they could have been more.

The movie is not awful. I enjoyed several of the performances. But the story, obviously, bothered me. But your mileage may vary.