Movie review: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

Clearly there was effort put into the sets and costumes, but with its lack of subtlety and over-the-top direction style, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein unravels into unintentional hilarity.

I have secondhand embarrassment from Branagh directing himself in so many shirtless scenes. This is a thoroughly unsexy and weird movie that nevertheless insists on inserting a poorly timed sex scene, rather than building on the sheer horror of Frankenstein’s creation and predicament.

The best scenes are when the monster is watching over the family because they actually give some room for the viewer to breathe and observe the story unfold.

The entire movie is hammy. It features Robert De Niro stabbing John Cleese in the chest, yet somehow it is not meant to be a comedy.