Jan 23, 2014 4 min read

The latest specimen from Hollywood’s industrial lab for retrofitting classic film monsters is “I, Frankenstein.” The film was not screened for press in time for this writing, but what we do know about it might cause whirring sounds in the grave of Mary Shelley.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. There’s an ancient war between supernatural creatures that threatens mankind unless one powerful-but-conflicted champion can, you know, put it together. Avenger assemble! So here we go again, this time with Frankenstein’s Hunky Monster (a ripped and brooding Aaron Eckhart, in jeans and hoodie) and his gorgeous human friend (Yvonne Strahovski) facing off against gargoyles who are apparently good and demons who are apparently bad. Well, the demons are led by Bill Nighy, so they must at least be wicked.

No, the folks behind “Underworld” won’t be suing anytime soon because “I, Frankenstein” comes to us from the co-creator and producers of, yes, “Underworld.”

Has someone been stitching dismembered parts back together?

One source from which those parts don’t obviously come is Shelley’s 1818 novel. Except, of course, for those chapters with the super-nimble, graceful monster wielding a pair of curved blades to save mankind from gargoyles and demons.

Then again, the classic Universal film series that included James Whale’s “Frankenstein” and “Bride of Frankenstein” was hardly loyal to its source — as “Henry” Frankenstein and the creature with that coffee-can-shaped head (for easy access?) attest. The flat-out campy “Bride,” mysteriously considered a masterpiece of the genre by many, is as loosely connected to the text as an incompletely sewn-on appendage.

That series quickly degenerated into “Son of Frankenstein,” “Ghost of …,” “House of …” and so many others. Truth in advertising might have dictated “Even More Ridiculous Iteration of …,” but instead we got “Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man” and, eventually, “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein” (and Dracula and the Wolf Man, Universal’s Big Three).

So it’s not as if this is sacred ground. Besides, the material has proved awfully difficult to adapt effectively, despite more than 60 attempts.

Shelley’s “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus,” is a revered novel about hubris. Her story concerns a young scientist (Victor Frankenstein) obsessed with curing man of the curse of mortality. His pride, and the chase itself, outstrips his initial goal as he does achieve an immortal creation — but is so horrified by its hideousness that he rejects it. The abandoned, frightfully powerful, and rapidly learning creature then conducts a campaign of revenge against the bad doctor and all of mankind.

Pretty good framework there. You’ve got your “Paradise Lost,” your Faustian bargain, your rough beast. So why have so few filmmakers made hay with it?

Kenneth Branagh tried. His “Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’ ” was probably so named because it offered one of the most faithful interpretations to date – apart from the overheated sexiness and all the random shirtlessness (Dr. Branagh had apparently discovered the Soloflex). Most important, it retains the creature’s central motivation – for which Branagh was actually taken to task by some critics. Janet Maslin of the New York Times wrote, “The Creature (Robert De Niro), an esthetically challenged loner with a father who rejected him, would make a dandy guest on any daytime television talk show.” That’s what one gets for being true to the material, apparently.

There were no such complaints about the “Monster Squad,” “Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School” and “Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster” variety. There’s even “Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter” (“Roaring guns against raging monster!”).

The theme has lent itself to exploitation genres (where are all the sexy Mummy movies?). There’s “Andy Warhol’s Flesh for Frankenstein,” directed by Paul Morrissey; the Italian “Lady Frankenstein,” with the tagline: “Only the monster she made could satisfy her strange desires!”; and “Blackenstein,” a blaxploitation entry.

Again, “I, Frankenstein” wasn’t screened in time for this writing, so for all we know, it could be brilliant. Then again, the trailers are full of slow-motion jump-fighting, and did we mention he’s a sexy emo warrior?

When a movie works on connections so tenuous, one wonders at the reasons for dragging the poor creature into it at all. Indeed, “Why Frankenstein?”