On the page, she was less of a character and more of a plot device. In chapter 22 of Mary Shelley's novel, Victor Frankenstein's creation demands his “father” make him a companion. At the last minute, Vic gets the jitters and tears the un-animated flesh homunculus apart. That was the extent of the character's original appearance. When William Hurlbut very loosely adapted the story to cinema in 1935, she was at least given a pulse, a swan's hiss of a voice, and an iconic hair-do. Her screen time also maxed out at about four minutes and she was still without name. She was The Monster's Mate in the credits. On the marquee, and in the public consciousness, she'll always be The Bride of Frankenstein. As men often do, we became enamored despite only getting a glimpse. Despite the briefness of her roots, the Bride has often reappeared alongside her groom. Sometimes she gets a name of her own too, like Eva or Pandora or Lily. Feminist readings of Shelley's work are, obviously, common. This has lead to many attempts to provide such a reading of a character who has always been known as an extension of a man. A big budget attempt arrived in March of 2026, emphatically entitled “The Bride!” Some accused it of being a fiasco, others admired it, a few said it was a future cult classic. Obviously, as a bit of a “Frankenstein”-head myself, I was waiting to formulate my own opinion.
In 1936 Chicago, the spirit of Mary Shelley possesses a gangster's moll named Ida. She is pushed down the stairs, snapping one leg and dying from a blow to the head. Not long afterwards, Frankenstein's monster seeks out a doctor named Cornelia Euphironius. He asks of her to make him a companion, after being alone for a hundred years. They dig up Ida's body and reanimate her. She has only brief remains of her memory and is furthered scattered by Shelley's spirit continuing to randomly speak through her. Frank tells her that she's his bride. After some jerks assault her outside a night club, the monster gruesomely murders the men. The reanimated corpses are now fugitives. Their bond grows as they travel the country. They see a bunch of movies starring Frank's favorite song-and-dance man, Ronnie Reed. Ida, now convinced her name is Penelope, accidentally triggers a revolution of feminist rage. Sometimes, they kill some more people. A detective named Jake Wiles, along with his hyper-confident secretary Myrna, pursue the monsters. He has a connection to Ida's past, which the newly christened Bride will soon uncover herself.
Most of the negative reviews of “The Bride!” high-lighted the film's biggest swings. The movie quite sincerely begins with Mary Shelley's ghost announcing herself as the author of “Frankenstein.” Multiple visions or dream sequences are featured. Sometimes these will roll over into the stated reality of the film without warning. There are multiple musical numbers. Sometimes featuring willfully anachronistic song choices, at least two of which are songs already associated with “Frankenstein.” The climax is a slo-mo shoot-out. It is, to say the least, bold. It is also a lot. The performances are pitched at Nic Cage-ian levels of over-the-top from the first minute and never really calm down. The dialogue is laced with screamed profanity. There are several frantic monologues. When violence and sexual assault occur, it's graphic. The script rarely stops to give the audience much time to catch up with some of its narrative choices and the thematic ideas are often endlessly jumbled atop each other. The film is coming at you so hard, all the time, that the result is both impressive and embarrassing for everyone involved.
Sometimes, the film's full-throated belief in its own ideas left me staring in disbelief. Such as whenever Mary Shelley's ghost interacts with the title character, which usually results in her spitting out loosely linked words. One of those aforementioned dance numbers has the main duo being backed up by the people around them going into bone-crunching, spasmodic gyrations for no particular reasons. Other times, I found myself enjoying the film's unbalanced amalgamation of various thirties film genre. Frank's love of classic musicals is a cute reoccurring detail, the ultimate outsider imagining himself as a smoothly moving star on the screen. The film most finds its footing when the monster couple emerge as undead Bonnie and Clydes, road tripping across depression era America and causing trouble whenever it suits them. Jessie Buckley and Christian Bale's theatrical vamping can sometimes be overbearing, both performers very aware of how much Acting they are doing. Penelope Cruz, meanwhile, is operating on the exact right level of stylized camp as a fast-talking, hyper-observant “His Girl Friday” type character. Maybe Maggie Gyllenhaal should have just made the whole movie about her instead.
If “The Bride!” was just an overly ambitious mash-up of Frankenstein, classic gangster flicks, and old-time musicals high on its own supply, it would probably have been better received. However, Gyllenhaal's film also had to be a grand feminist statement. By which I mean, the film contains a half-formed subplot that is basically “Joker For the Ladies.” Ida/Penelope seems able to intrinsically or psychically feel other women's trauma. This leads to a scene of her listing off grievances in a crowded dance hall. It seemingly inspires women all over the country to paint their faces and tongues like her ink-splotch pattern and go on violent rampages against men, while screaming out catch-phrases and slogans taken from Ida's ramblings. It's another willfully anachronistic element in the film, as it's difficult to imagine a Fourth Wave Feminist uprising like that appearing in 1936. Much the same way “Joker” featured its murderous clown protagonist inspiring indiscriminate violent protests that did not seem to have any actual political ideology or rationale behind them, this subplot comes across as vague gesturing at broad social injustices. In this case, Women Be Persecuted, that has no depth nor any actual scruples behind it.
We can tell that “The Bride!'s” womanly rage is, if not insincere, at least poorly thought out. From the moment the Bride and Frankenstein meet, he is constructing their past together. He invents stories about how they met, how they got married, their sex lives, and more. He's been lying to her and manipulating her. When Ida discovers this, she's understandably upset and decides to call off their relationship... Before the last act essentially sees her take him back through a convoluted series of events. This dovetails with the detective subplot, which has Peter Sarsgaard – Gyllenhaal's husband, it must be noted – apologizing for all his past grievances against specific women and women in general. The way that thread resolves itself feels like one long asterisk on the movie's man-hating philosophy. Yes, personal and social boundaries between men and women are very complicated. Where love and desire fit in throughout true equality between the sexes and reparations against the historically awful treatment of women is a lot to consider. At the same time, stopping your diatribe against the mass abuse of womankind to insert a few “#NotAllMen!” moments feels curiously wrongheaded.
Then again, “curiously wrongheaded” is probably an apt description for “The Bride!” overall. In addition to all its other high-minded ideas and various pastiches, I think the movie is also a meta-textual riff on the creation of “Frankenstein” itself. Making Mary Shelley a character suggests that the story of “Frankenstein” exists as both a fictional narrative and a real event within the film's universe. Light spoilers here, possibly: I think the ending of implies that somehow the knowledge of these events was sent back in time and inspired the writing of the novel in the first place? It's not very clear. Tie these weird narrative swings together with the bizarre tonal shifts, ruminations on men and women that are both way too obvious and contradictory, and a general tendency for the movie to be nutty or abrasive a lot of the time... It's not surprising many critics were simply baffled by “The Bride!” At the same time, I can't entirely dismiss the movie simply because it is so bold and so specific. Gyllenhaal had Some Thoughts and Feelings and this motion picture is an expression of them. It is confused mess, the kind of campy spectacle that begs people to hate it, but I can't dismiss it either. [6/10]
In 1936 Chicago, the spirit of Mary Shelley possesses a gangster's moll named Ida. She is pushed down the stairs, snapping one leg and dying from a blow to the head. Not long afterwards, Frankenstein's monster seeks out a doctor named Cornelia Euphironius. He asks of her to make him a companion, after being alone for a hundred years. They dig up Ida's body and reanimate her. She has only brief remains of her memory and is furthered scattered by Shelley's spirit continuing to randomly speak through her. Frank tells her that she's his bride. After some jerks assault her outside a night club, the monster gruesomely murders the men. The reanimated corpses are now fugitives. Their bond grows as they travel the country. They see a bunch of movies starring Frank's favorite song-and-dance man, Ronnie Reed. Ida, now convinced her name is Penelope, accidentally triggers a revolution of feminist rage. Sometimes, they kill some more people. A detective named Jake Wiles, along with his hyper-confident secretary Myrna, pursue the monsters. He has a connection to Ida's past, which the newly christened Bride will soon uncover herself.
Sometimes, the film's full-throated belief in its own ideas left me staring in disbelief. Such as whenever Mary Shelley's ghost interacts with the title character, which usually results in her spitting out loosely linked words. One of those aforementioned dance numbers has the main duo being backed up by the people around them going into bone-crunching, spasmodic gyrations for no particular reasons. Other times, I found myself enjoying the film's unbalanced amalgamation of various thirties film genre. Frank's love of classic musicals is a cute reoccurring detail, the ultimate outsider imagining himself as a smoothly moving star on the screen. The film most finds its footing when the monster couple emerge as undead Bonnie and Clydes, road tripping across depression era America and causing trouble whenever it suits them. Jessie Buckley and Christian Bale's theatrical vamping can sometimes be overbearing, both performers very aware of how much Acting they are doing. Penelope Cruz, meanwhile, is operating on the exact right level of stylized camp as a fast-talking, hyper-observant “His Girl Friday” type character. Maybe Maggie Gyllenhaal should have just made the whole movie about her instead.
We can tell that “The Bride!'s” womanly rage is, if not insincere, at least poorly thought out. From the moment the Bride and Frankenstein meet, he is constructing their past together. He invents stories about how they met, how they got married, their sex lives, and more. He's been lying to her and manipulating her. When Ida discovers this, she's understandably upset and decides to call off their relationship... Before the last act essentially sees her take him back through a convoluted series of events. This dovetails with the detective subplot, which has Peter Sarsgaard – Gyllenhaal's husband, it must be noted – apologizing for all his past grievances against specific women and women in general. The way that thread resolves itself feels like one long asterisk on the movie's man-hating philosophy. Yes, personal and social boundaries between men and women are very complicated. Where love and desire fit in throughout true equality between the sexes and reparations against the historically awful treatment of women is a lot to consider. At the same time, stopping your diatribe against the mass abuse of womankind to insert a few “#NotAllMen!” moments feels curiously wrongheaded.
“Psycho” becoming a multi-media franchise is kind of funny, when you think about it. It's a story of murder and sex, considered so shocking and upsetting in 1960 that it nearly changed the direction of horror single-handedly, and based on an extremely gruesome true crime case. How does that end up on lunch boxes and doing cross-band synergy with Hello Kitty? However, the facade of the hotel and Bates house have been part of the Universal Studios tram tour since 1964. While the theatrical “Psycho” sequels were a little more respectable to the legacy of the original, this cannot be said for all the cinematic extensions of the Bates brand. In the late eighties, “The Hitchhiker” creator Richard Rothstein would attempt to build a similar quasi-anthology show around “Psycho's” most infamous landmark. The pilot was poorly received and NBC burnt it off as a TV movie in the summer off-season of 1987. I'm fascinated by ill-conceived spin-offs of beloved properties, which meant I obviously had to write about this.
Well, everyone knows Norman Bates was paroled in 1983 and resumed his stabby shenanigans shortly afterwards. What “Bates Motel” presupposes is... Maybe, while institutionalized, he would befriend a young psycho-in-training named Alex West. The two would become so close that, after his passing, Norman would will the family hotel and home to this guy. With Norman's ashes in hand, Alex heads to Fairvale fully intending to honor his late friend's wishes. He learns that, in addition to the reputation of Norman and his mom's murders, the motel is also said to be haunted. He instead finds a struggling actress named Willie squatting in the derelict hotel. The two misfits become pals and Willie helps Alex re-launch the business. That's when a suicidal woman named Barbara arrives and rents the room, encountering some ghosts of her own.
It is a very odd tone to attach to what is ostensibly a sequel to one of the all-time great horror films. It is far from the only odd choice made here. The perspective “Bates Motel” series would have featured something like a “Fantasy Island” or “Love Boat” type set-up. While Alex and Billie would presumably be reoccurring characters, a new motel guest every week would bring with them a new B-plot. This element of “Bates Motel” doesn't appear until the movie is half-way over, after nearly an hour devoted to Alex buying and refurbishing the motel. The result is a lumpily paced film that randomly introduces a new story in the last third. The plot itself is of debatable merit. Khrystyne Haje is a suicidal woman whose depression manifests more as bursts of moping, that quickly turn around when people are nice to her. She encounters a group of partying teenagers with a strangely fifties style about them. It's obvious immediately that these kids are ghosts, youngsters who took their own lives and have returned from the great beyond to convince someone on the edge to do otherwise. The script approaches a very morose premise with nothing but a detached sentimentality, making it clear that a depression so crushing that someone considers ending themselves was not being taking very seriously. Sling-shoting from the slapstick comedy of the first half to the maudlin, if deeply insincere, melodrama of the second is baffling
One cannot be surprised that “Bates Motel” would fail to go to series. The entire film is so stiflingly ill-conceived that I'm a little surprised it made it to air at all. I was left being reminded of the “Star Wars Holiday Special,” a made-for-TV spin-off of a beloved and highly influential film franchise that, rather than attempt to adapt the original's tone to the medium, sticks it within the crushing constraints of then television cliches. It even ends with a fourth wall break, furthering the campy TV artifact atmosphere. Perhaps some musical numbers or unsubtitled Wookie shenanigans would have enlivened this. Unlike that notorious piece of television, Universal has made no efforts to suppress “Bates Motel's” existence. It used to re-air on the Sci-Fi Channel with some regularity and has remained in-print on DVD. And eventually someone did launch a successful “Psycho” TV show named “Bates Motel,” though it was more connected to the film. Now, whether I would rather watch this again or endure more serialized genre television tedium is a question I would rather not consider... [3/10]
Another partially lost BBC horror short-runner from the seventies, the two episodes of “Dead of Night” I previously wrote about are among the eeriest horror television I've ever seen. “Return Flight” is the last of the series' installments know to still exist. It concerns Captain Hamish Rolph, an airline pilot whose wife has recently died. On a late night flight, he must suddenly steer the plane to avoid colliding with another plane... He seems to think it was a WWII bomber but that couldn't be possible, could it? His boss and friend Frank Warley tries to check on Hamish's mental health. He longs for his dead wife, resents his absent daughter, and is nostalgic for his brief days as a pilot in the war. He's also having reoccurring visions of events from the Blitz, as if the past is interrupting the present. Further investigation shows that a landing strip used to exist near where Hamish had his incident. This has deadly consequences.
From the episodes that remain, it is clear that “Dead of Night” represented an extremely British style of horror story. Namely, one that favored foreboding atmosphere over any loud shocks or visceral thrills. The chills “The Exorcism” and “A Woman Sobbing” generated existed almost entirely in the realm of implication. Both episodes created an unsettling feeling by focusing in on a protagonist's journeys. They also made the limited settings of a British television budget work for them, creating an enclosing sense of isolation. “Return Flight” is similarly low-key in its attempts at scares. This is an hour mostly devoted to people standing around in rooms and talking. There are no attacking ghosts or obviously disturbing visions. The horror of the situation does not reveal itself until the final scene, which is delivered with the same understated dryness that you expect from those Brits and their stiff-upper-lips.
Peter Barksworth gives a good performance as Hamish, subtly conveying the complicated mixture of grief and bitterness his wife's death awoke in him. Like many an older gentlemen, he longs for his youth. In particular, he longs for a glorious wartime experience he never got to live out. The war ended right after Hamish got drafted, denying him the chance to kill Nazis or die on the battle field. It's an interesting idea but “Return Flight” is sadly too understated. We are not fully allowed into the protagonist's mind. We only get brief mentions of his absent daughter. Or of how the memory of his wife's first husband hung over their marriage. The script is mostly about other people talking about the man's history. The episode would've done better to actually show us these things. Or, at least, give us more of a peek into the lonely life the man is now living.
Also in keeping with the style of BBC ghost stories, “Return Flight” never outright explains the circumstances of what is happening. Clearly, this is a story about the past lingering around and refusing to stay dead. This was also true of “The Exorcism” and “A Woman Sobbing,” both tales of past spirits taking control of or beckoning to the living. (From what information we have about the lost episodes, it sounds like this was true of most of “Dead of Night.”) However, those scripts married the premise to themes of class inequality or feminine isolation. “Return Flight” can't quite make the same point about boomer idealization of the golden age or the scars World War II left on London. The result is an installment where it feels like nothing much happens, delivered in such a manner as to feel dull. A little bit of tension rises in the lead-up to the final note, getting at the idea of professionals trying to stay calm and not panic as the situation begins to spiral out of control. Exactly what you would expect the feeling on an airplane about to drop out of the sky to be. “Return Flight” needed more of that. [5/10]
From the episodes that remain, it is clear that “Dead of Night” represented an extremely British style of horror story. Namely, one that favored foreboding atmosphere over any loud shocks or visceral thrills. The chills “The Exorcism” and “A Woman Sobbing” generated existed almost entirely in the realm of implication. Both episodes created an unsettling feeling by focusing in on a protagonist's journeys. They also made the limited settings of a British television budget work for them, creating an enclosing sense of isolation. “Return Flight” is similarly low-key in its attempts at scares. This is an hour mostly devoted to people standing around in rooms and talking. There are no attacking ghosts or obviously disturbing visions. The horror of the situation does not reveal itself until the final scene, which is delivered with the same understated dryness that you expect from those Brits and their stiff-upper-lips.
Also in keeping with the style of BBC ghost stories, “Return Flight” never outright explains the circumstances of what is happening. Clearly, this is a story about the past lingering around and refusing to stay dead. This was also true of “The Exorcism” and “A Woman Sobbing,” both tales of past spirits taking control of or beckoning to the living. (From what information we have about the lost episodes, it sounds like this was true of most of “Dead of Night.”) However, those scripts married the premise to themes of class inequality or feminine isolation. “Return Flight” can't quite make the same point about boomer idealization of the golden age or the scars World War II left on London. The result is an installment where it feels like nothing much happens, delivered in such a manner as to feel dull. A little bit of tension rises in the lead-up to the final note, getting at the idea of professionals trying to stay calm and not panic as the situation begins to spiral out of control. Exactly what you would expect the feeling on an airplane about to drop out of the sky to be. “Return Flight” needed more of that. [5/10]
Every TV show with even a little bit of a spooky vibe about it should do at least one Halloween themed episode. “Friday the 13th: The Series” got to it pretty early, by the fifth broadcast. Ryan throws a Halloween party in the antique's shop. Micki is a little uncertain about having so many people In the building but is reassured that all the evil objects are safely kept in the vault. Jack entertains the guests before some trouble-makers sneak into the aforementioned vault of evil. They awaken a ghastly presence: The ghost of Uncle Lewis. He tricks Micki and Ryan into grabbing a pendent that makes his spirit flesh. With the assistance of a mischievous imp sidekick, Lewis or the demon impersonating him attempts to fulfill a diabolic ritual before the sun rises.
Five episodes in was definitely too early for “Friday the 13th” to set a story within its own collection of horrific artifacts. The heroes haven't been collecting them for that long! Despite that, Curious Goods is the best location the show has and I don't blame the producers for wanting to take advantage of that. The place looks cooler yet when decked out for a Halloween party. Once again, the scenes of Jack simply vamping in a silly costume and intoning about some bullshit like Tarot or Arthurian lore is the most entertaining element of the show. A shot of a glowing crystal ball or fog billowing across the location's floor, while Jack-O-Lanterns and costumed revelers are near-by, is this show reaching “The Haunted Mansion” levels of corny Halloween vibes. I approve of that.
Unfortunately, “Friday the 13th: The Series” does not build the entire episode around its Halloween party premise. In fact, that side of the story and most of the October 31st energy is abandoned once Uncle Lewis' ghost shows up. I like the idea of the show centering its nebulous collection of threats around a single villain. Uncle Lewis immediately turning evil after coming back as a spirit seems to run counter to his crisis of conscience in the first episode. I do enjoy R.G. Armstrong getting a chance to ham it up a bit. This is the sole credit of Victoria Deslaurier, the short actress who plays the demonic little person. She's having a good time but I always feel a little bad when a small person gets cast as some sort of fantasy creature. There are some amusing shenanigans in this one, such as when Micki almost gets cremated alive. Jack and Uncle Lewis' ghost have a chant-off at the end, which made me chuckle. I do like how the final scene builds on the lore a little – Jack was in love with Lewis' wife – and ominously points towards the impending Friday the 13th as some sort of climatic event. [6/10]
Five episodes in was definitely too early for “Friday the 13th” to set a story within its own collection of horrific artifacts. The heroes haven't been collecting them for that long! Despite that, Curious Goods is the best location the show has and I don't blame the producers for wanting to take advantage of that. The place looks cooler yet when decked out for a Halloween party. Once again, the scenes of Jack simply vamping in a silly costume and intoning about some bullshit like Tarot or Arthurian lore is the most entertaining element of the show. A shot of a glowing crystal ball or fog billowing across the location's floor, while Jack-O-Lanterns and costumed revelers are near-by, is this show reaching “The Haunted Mansion” levels of corny Halloween vibes. I approve of that.
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