Frankenstein

Having watched this silent, short version of FRANKENSTEIN several times, it is obviously of both artistic and historic interest / value. It's wonderful to see what was done so long ago on film!

The special effects are fantastic, taking into account the vintage and what was available at that time. The creation scene is well-realized, getting the point across that a monster is in the making, and the understandably scant story is sufficient.

Hell, considering some of the lemons that have rolled out of "modern" Hollywood over the years, this movie is quite an achievement!...

Over the years I've watched and enjoyed loads of early Biograph and Vitagraph one and two reelers, but this was my first time with Edison's take on Frankenstein which I understand was a lost film for decades. A century later and it's on YouTube for all, such is progress! At this time Film was changing from a collection of unconnected images to having a coherent narrative - pre WW1 many exhibitors had to use lecturers to help explain to the audience the film they were watching delightedly. In movies nowadays when cameras aren't usually static for more than a second but deliberately shaking or flying off in all directions I could sometimes do with plot explanations too - if I could be bothered.

The narrative in Frankenstein is crushingly simple: man goes to college, creates a monster, which in the end can't live with its evil self. The trick shot creation scenes hold up well, less so Frankenstein's excited peeping in at it happening through a tiny trap window. There's nice tinting for the most part, although the blue shots were very blue indeed! The final mirror scene was a pleasant surprise, although because they used to churn these shorts out from start to finish in less than 3 days I wonder if a heavy message was intended. And the ugly monstrous horror reminded me of the rock band Kiss.

Well worth spending 13 minutes sampling a slice of movie history.

Produced by Thomas Edison's very own Edison Studios, J. Searle Dawley's 'Frankenstein' has been widely considered the first American horror film. Thought to be lost up until the 1970s when it was recovered from the infamous Alois Dettlaff's private collection, 'Frankenstein' has slowly established itself as one of the greatest silent shorts within the early horror genre.

The story quickly progresses, beginning with a scene of Frankenstein (Augustus Phillips) leaving his fiancée Elizabeth (Mary Fuller) to attend college. Some two years later, Frankenstein learns "the secret of life" whilst working in his study one day. He immediately writes a letter to his fiancée, telling her his intentions of creating the perfect human being. Frankenstein proceeds to perform the now-famous experiment and The Monster (played by the wonderful Charles Ogle) is born. The Monster takes shape in a giant vat, located in a sealed off room which is viewed by Frankenstein through a single viewing window. As the once lifeless monster rises from the vat, Frankenstein becomes terrified of his seemingly ghastly creation. The Monster quickly breaks out of the barricaded room and into the laboratory. After a close encounter with The Monster; Frankenstein makes the decision to return home to Elizabeth. As Frankenstein and Elizabeth's wedding begins, they become aware that The Monster has followed Frankenstein back home and a night of horror ensues.

Our beloved genre's debut is filmed in the non-moving camera fashion typical of early 1900s films, inherently giving the impression of a stage play. The plot of this little short does not closely follow the plot of Shelley's novel, nor does it reflect that of the later Universal version, but none the less a startlingly unique and entertaining outcome it is. The photography is excellent and does well to continuously and tactfully reflect the mood being established. As seen in (most notably) John Barrymore's version of 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' (1920) many of the laboratory scenes were shot using a brown tint whereas in the later part of the film, when the dark or horrific happenings begin to occur, a blue tint is used. Charles Ogle's take on The Monster is strikingly innovative and original, especially when compared to Boris Karloff's familiar 1931 portrayal. The makeup is excellent and apparently was applied by Charles Ogle himself (Ala Lon Chaney, eh?). The long fingernails, hunched back, and distorted face give Ogle's Monster quite a threatening aura as do his various facial contortions and arm-movements. Ogle's Monster is one fit for the ages and has become something of an icon of early horror cinema. Augustus Phillips does an excellent job portraying Frankenstein, with a broad range of emotions throughout the film and Mary Fuller proves to be a superb actress, playing the "damsel in distress" role superbly. One of the many qualities which stand out in Dawley's take on the tale was not only the innovative portrayal of The Monster, but the ending sequence. The defeat of The Monster is far more psychological and fantastic rather than scientific, which one wouldn't expect of a movie based around scientific advancements. Furthermore, beneath the surface of this incredible little short lies a premeditated philosophical meaning, one that is quite reminiscent of R.L. Stevenson's familiar tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Essentially, the film emphasizes the dual nature of man and his urge to unleash his inner-self. The Monster essentially represents the evil and unforgivable aspects of Frankenstein's persona. The mysterious ending sequence stresses this insightful use of symbolism. The outcome is a beautifully shot film, with convincing actors, innovative effects (for the time), excellent makeup, and a substantially intelligent and charming finale.

The very deepest roots of horror can be found in this little 16 minute gem. From the terrified look on Frankenstein's face when the first monster in U.S. cinema history comes to life, to the last moments of footage, the film leaves one captivated in its grasp. Myself being a long-time fan of the genre, thought it crucial to finally track this window into the past down. It is bewildering to look at this little atmospheric and strikingly intelligent take on Shelley's novel and to then look where the genre has come, with modern classics such as 'The Shining', 'Psycho (1960)', and 'Rosemary's Baby'. Edison Studios produced a true gem of early cinema - and the beginning of an epic genre… and what an excellent beginning it is.

I'm putting this on my list of films you must see. It is short and at first glance completely uninteresting.

But look again.

Here's what happens: Young Frankenstein goes to college where he discovers the secret of life. Interesting that the filmmakers would think it cinematic to watch a man think and then have a eureka moment. The rest of the thing is highly cinematic (or so we would judge today) in all its choices, so this is the first remarkable event of the thing.

Then we get to see him create the creature. No lightning and dials here, instead a MacBethian cauldron in a sealed chamber. He peeks through a hole and as he does, we see the creature form. Its a remarkable effect for the time. I imagine it was done by playing backwards a film of a manikin being dissolved by acid. Here's the second interesting event.

You know, witchcraft wasn't associated with cauldrons until MacBeth. And this opens up a whole world of possibilities of magic and film along the lines of the magic of Shakespeare. Unfortunately by the 30s this was all but extinguished by the association of magic 9and science) with technological gismos that spark, have dials and gages, the cauldron image relegated to bubbling flasks.

But then — after some business with the new wife which is a bit confusing if you don't know the story — we have the bit with the mirror. This trick, friends is why I am directing you to this.

The existence of the mirror is introduced early and is linked to the image of the wife, who we see first as a reflection.

Then the mirror plays a role as the monster encounters himself and is appalled.

Then, later, the monster gets depressed ("overcome by love") and decides to kill himself. He does so by standing in front of the mirror and willing himself out of existence. First, he disappears but his image in the mirror remains.

The scientist comes in and sees the monster in the mirror. Then after the monster's image acknowledges the scientist's presence, it too disappears and is replaced by the normal reflection of the man.

Now, this requires a pretty sophisticated cinematic logic of about 100 years ago, and of a completely new medium. So radically new. The filmmaker clearly thought this would make sense to the viewer. Think about this a minute. Nowadays effects like this are automatic for most filmmakers because the vocabulary is so solidly settled.

But then (and with our best visionaries today) the filmmaker had to decide from scratch the cinematic notion to be used.

Here's the folding notion: the relationship between the scientist and his monster is folded into the notion of us the viewers seeing images in a magical lookingglass. And further into the magical cauldron.

Wow. Who is being this clever today?

Ted's Evaluation -- 4 of 3: Every cineliterate person should experience this.

The first time I had viewed excerpts from this film was a re-broadcast of the 1970s British anthology series "The Amazing Years Of Cinema," hosted by Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. It had been produced before the AFI listed the Edison Company's "Frankenstein" on its Top-Ten "Most Wanted" list. I taped a number of episodes of this series in the mid-1980s from the Discovery Channel, on the Beta format (anybody got a Beta VCR they can spare?). Viewing the creation scene was beyond fascinating, and has imprinted itself upon my mind even to this day. I presumed that eventually the film would be archived, restored, and made available upon home video (the then-current, and future formats), but was dismayed in the early years of this century to find this was not so. Even the video/DVD "releases" of the late 90s were (from what I understand) of such horrible quality (the imposition of "time codes," for starters) because Aldois Detalff refused to make the print available to professional celluloid preservationists...he was paranoid about not being paid enough to have this important cinematic document claimed and preserved into perpetuity, so he hoarded the battered print, gave it only sparse public screenings, and refused any bid under $1-2 million to relinquish it into the hands of those better qualified to save this work.

Now, Alois Detlaff is dead (as of 2005). Which (at risk of sounding cold and disrespectful) begs this question....

What will become of the sole remaining "Frankenstein" print? If there are any silent film buffs or insiders that have knowledge to this question, I would very much appreciate an answer and/or updates. I really, really hate to say this, but sometimes (for human history's sake) the survival and fate of one very, very important physical artifact should place priority over "respecting" the misguided ego of the last person known to have shielded it from the rest of the world (especially if the concern was largely about money, collector ego, and a mild strain of blackmail/greed).

It would be tragic if the only source print of this film were kept under lock and key until it disintegrates beyond repair because of its final owner's rapacious whims.

Again, any feedback is more than welcome...