Guillermo del Toro's long-awaited adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein made its world premiere at the 82nd Venice International Film Festival on August 30, 2025, drawing rave early reviews for its gothic grandeur and emotional depth. The film, a passion project del Toro has nurtured for nearly two decades, stars Oscar Isaac as the ambitious scientist Victor Frankenstein, with Jacob Elordi transforming into the tragic Creature and Mia Goth as the ethereal Elizabeth. At 149 minutes, it's a sprawling tale that blends horror with poignant melodrama, set against del Toro's signature visual splendor—think shadowy laboratories and fog-shrouded landscapes that feel alive with menace.
Indeed, much of the buzz centers on Elordi's performance. The Saltburn heartthrob, unrecognizable under layers of prosthetic makeup, brings a staggering vulnerability to the monster, portraying him not just as a rampaging beast but as a soul-searching outcast yearning for connection. Del Toro himself has praised Elordi's take as "staggeringly beautiful, in an otherworldly way," a bold departure from the lumbering icons of old Hollywood. Goth, meanwhile, infuses Elizabeth with a quiet intensity, her role as Victor's fiancée adding layers of heartbreak to the unfolding tragedy. Supporting turns from Christoph Waltz as a scheming patron and Charles Dance round out a cast that's as formidable as the story demands.
However, not everything lands perfectly. Critics note that the film's first half meanders through elaborate setups, occasionally bogged down by del Toro's penchant for ornate detail, before Elordi's entrance injects real urgency. Still, with a 7.3 IMDb rating already circulating from festival screenings, it's clear this Frankenstein resonates. The movie hits limited theaters on October 17, followed by a Netflix global rollout on November 7, promising to reanimate the classic for a new generation.
Moreover, the Venice red carpet was a spectacle in itself, with Elordi, Goth, and Isaac turning heads in sleek attire that echoed the film's Victorian gloom. Del Toro, ever the storyteller, spoke of his fidelity to Shelley's novel, emphasizing themes of creation and isolation that feel eerily timely. Yet, some reviewers question if Elordi's handsome monster softens the horror too much—like a vegetarian Dracula, as one quip put it—diluting the raw terror of the source material.
In the end, del Toro's vision invites us to reconsider what it means to play God in an age of unchecked ambition.