Guillermo del Toro has too often talked about his obsession with Boris Karloff’s portrayal of Frankenstein’s Monster for James Whale’s 1931 iteration of Frankenstein, the movie. Claiming his lifelong obsession to recreate it in his own stylistic language. And boy, has he done just that.

With a runtime of two hours and thirty-nine minutes, the movie is a visual treat, and yet never feels onerous.

There’s a lot of story added to the source material, but del Toro’s world-building adds to Mary Shelley’s without taking away from it. It makes it grandiose, and cinematic.

In the style of a true gothic drama, leading men Oscar Isaac (playing Frankenstein) and Jacob Elordi (playing Frankenstein’s Monster) bring an aching rawness to their characters. Elordi, gives his career-best performance as the Monster, portraying a gut-wrenchingly relatable villain-turned-hero. Isaac, on the other hand, brings the mania of a tortured scientist to the role quite convincingly, adding depth to a role that previously has been portrayed as one-dimensional.

In del Torian fashion, the movie gives you what you want, something to visually feast at, a deep philosophical quandary to chew on after you leave the film, and a memory of a literary classic you’ve found a new appreciation for. That is quite the triumph.

Images courtesy Netflix.