When you hear Guillermo del Toro and Frankenstein in the same sentence, you probably imagine thunder, graveyards, and a monster bursting to life under a flash of lightning. But this version? It’s not that kind of horror. It’s quieter, more emotional — the sort of film that unsettles you long after you’ve left the theater.
Is the Frankenstein (2025) Movie Scary?
Del Toro’s Frankenstein isn’t built to make you jump. It’s made to make you think — and maybe feel a little uneasy about what it means to be human.
A Monster You Can’t Hate
Oscar Isaac plays Victor Frankenstein like a man who’s both brilliant and broken. He’s obsessed with conquering death, but it’s clear from the start he’s really trying to fix something inside himself. You watch him, and you don’t just see ambition — you see guilt, pain, and the kind of arrogance that only comes from deep insecurity
When Victor finally succeeds in creating life, what comes out of that lab isn’t some roaring monster. Jacob Elordi’s creature is tall and scarred, yes, but there’s a kind of innocence in him. He moves awkwardly, almost like a child learning to walk. There’s this one moment — he sees a small stream of water in the lab’s floor and drops a leaf into it, watching it float away. No dialogue, no big score behind it, just quiet curiosity. Somehow, that tiny moment says more about the character than any long speech could.
Fear Without the Noise
This movie doesn’t rely on loud scares. The horror here is slower, more emotional. It’s the kind that creeps in when you realize the creature’s pain feels uncomfortably familiar — like loneliness, rejection, or wanting to be loved by someone who just can’t love you back.
The story switches between Victor’s point of view and the creature’s, and that’s where it really hits you. You see both sides — the pride that drives Victor, and the heartbreak that defines the creature. By the time you reach the end, you’re not sure who’s the real monster anymore.
That’s the trick of this movie. It makes you feel for both of them, even when you know you shouldn’t.
Beautiful, But Not Safe
Visually, it’s everything you’d expect from del Toro. The whole thing looks like a fever dream — deep reds, wet stone walls, candlelight flickering against metal. The lab scenes are stunning in a way that makes you uncomfortable. You’re staring at something terrible, but you can’t look away because it’s so beautifully done.
Every frame feels deliberate. The red of a dress matches the blood in a gutter. Elizabeth’s green dress mirrors the patchwork of the creature’s skin. It’s all connected — beauty and horror, side by side.
And that’s what makes it so effective. You don’t realize how tense you’ve become until the scene ends and you finally exhale.
Elizabeth — The Only One Who Gets It
Mia Goth’s Elizabeth is easily the heart of the film. She’s smart, curious, and refuses to play the quiet, frightened fiancée. She sees things clearly, maybe too clearly. When she meets the creature for the first time and asks, “Who hurt you?” it stops you cold.
It’s such a simple line, but it hits harder than any scream. She understands what Victor can’t — that the monster isn’t evil, just broken. In her few scenes, she gives the story its warmth, its soul.
So… Is It Scary?
That depends on what kind of scary you’re after.
If you want loud jump scares and things crawling out of the dark, then no — it’s not scary at all. But if what gets to you is the idea of creating life and then abandoning it, or realizing you’ve become the villain in your own story, then yeah, it’s pretty terrifying.
It’s the kind of film that doesn’t make you scream — it makes you sit there in silence, thinking. You feel uneasy, maybe even a little sad, and that’s a different kind of fear.
The Real Horror
Del Toro has always had a soft spot for monsters — the misunderstood kind. Frankenstein (2025) fits that perfectly.
The fear doesn’t come from the creature itself. It comes from recognizing parts of yourself in him — the longing, the confusion, the anger. It’s that sinking feeling that maybe we’re not so different from the monster after all.
So, is it scary? Yeah, but not in the usual way. It’s the kind of story that crawls under your skin quietly. It whispers instead of shouts. And by the time it’s over, you realize the scariest thing about it isn’t the creature at all — it’s the man who made him.