When Guillermo del Toro finally unveiled his long-awaited Frankenstein - now streaming on Netflix - it felt like the culmination of a decades-long obsession. But the question that has haunted every adaptation since 1818 remains the same: how close is it to Mary Shelley’s original masterpiece?

Del Toro’s version is, in many ways, both a love letter and a rebellion — a film that honors Shelley’s philosophical terror while reimagining her myth for a modern, morally fractured world. To unpack where it aligns — and where it diverges — Variety consulted Dr. Fiona Samuels, a Shelley scholar at Oxford University, whose analysis reveals just how deeply del Toro engages with the source material’s most overlooked ideas.

The Monster, or the Mirror

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus was never just a story about a scientist and his creation — it was about isolation, ambition, and the birth of guilt in a godless world. Del Toro captures that essence, Dr. Samuels says, more accurately than most filmmakers have dared.

“He understands that the creature isn’t evil,” she explains. “It’s humanity’s fear of reflection — of what we make and then abandon — that defines the horror.”

Played with haunting restraint by Jacob Elordi, the creature in del Toro’s adaptation is articulate, introspective, and morally complex — closer to Shelley’s text than the mute, lumbering monster made iconic by Boris Karloff in 1931.

Science, Sin, and Sympathy

Where previous versions often glorified Victor Frankenstein’s ambition, del Toro’s film leans into his guilt. Oscar Isaac’s portrayal of Frankenstein oscillates between godlike confidence and crippling remorse, reflecting Shelley’s belief that knowledge without empathy corrupts.

“Shelley wrote Frankenstein in the shadow of scientific revolution,” Dr. Samuels notes. “Del Toro translates that tension into our own century of AI, bioengineering, and algorithmic gods. It’s not lightning bolts anymore — it’s the moral circuitry of creation.”

This thematic update gives the film contemporary resonance without sacrificing authenticity. Shelley’s 19th-century fears of unchecked science become del Toro’s 21st-century warning about technological hubris — a reflection of humanity’s endless cycle of invention and regret.

The Creature’s Voice Returns

In one of the film’s most praised creative choices, del Toro restores the creature’s narrative agency. Shelley’s novel is told through multiple nested perspectives — a story within a story — giving the monster his own eloquent voice.

Del Toro mirrors that device through nonlinear flashbacks and fragmented journal entries, allowing viewers to experience the story through memory and trauma rather than spectacle.

“The film’s structure feels like the novel’s moral architecture,” Dr. Samuels says. “It’s confession as narrative. Every retelling is another attempt at forgiveness.”

Faithful, Yet Fearless

Still, del Toro diverges in bold ways. His Frankenstein reimagines the creature’s final act not as despair but as transcendence — a meditation on legacy and rebirth.

The final sequence, set against a desolate Arctic backdrop, draws visually from del Toro’s gothic sensibilities seen in Crimson Peak and Pan’s Labyrinth. But thematically, it honors Shelley’s ultimate question: what if the real monstrosity is the creator’s refusal to love his own creation?

“Del Toro doesn’t just adapt Frankenstein,” Dr. Samuels adds. “He completes it. He gives voice to the empathy Shelley’s contemporaries refused to hear.”

Why This Adaptation Matters

Del Toro’s Frankenstein is not simply a period piece — it’s an argument about art, accountability, and the human condition. It reclaims the gothic not as horror but as introspection, grounding Shelley’s warnings in the moral uncertainties of our time.

The film’s craftsmanship — its blend of biological surrealism and quiet tragedy — underscores what del Toro has always believed: monsters are mirrors, not nightmares.

“Shelley’s novel survived because it asked eternal questions,” Dr. Samuels concludes. “Del Toro’s film will endure for the same reason — it makes us ask them again.”

The Takeaway

Guillermo del Toro hasn’t just adapted Frankenstein; he’s restored its soul. In doing so, he bridges the 200-year gap between Shelley’s age of reason and our age of algorithms — proving that the monster, like the myth, will always come back to life.

As Shelley herself wrote: “Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”