There’s few sequels that have been as good, or better than, the originals. The ones I’ve seen that spring to mind are films like Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Shrek 2, Superman II, Spider-Man II, and of course The Empire Strikes Back. There’s others out there. I hear The Godfather: Part Two is one of those films, but I haven’t seen it.
One of the first films to have this happy state of affairs is 1935’s The Bride of Frankenstein, an entirely superior film to the original 1931 film, Frankenstein.
The first movie ended with the apparent deaths of both Dr Frankenstein (Colin Clive), and the Monster. This movie contains a scene with Mary Shelly (played by Elsa Lanchester, who later turns up as the Bride), Lord Byron and others talking about Shelly’s novel. She explains that the story didn’t quite end where everyone thinks it does, and then we go to the movie proper.
It opens seconds after the ending of the first one, and we see that the good Doctor has not, in fact, died, he’s just gravely wounded (“I’m not quite dead yet!”). To no one’s surprise, we see moments later that the Monster (credited in the opening simply as “KARLOFF”), isn’t dead, either. Well, no more so than he was before, though he is very badly burned.
After a bit of comic relief with Una O’Connor in a role that would be only slightly less over-the-top than Cloris Leachman’s role in Young Frankenstein
(about which, more later), we find the Doctor recovering in his home, where he’s soon visited by the enigmatic Doctor Pretorius, who believes the Monster needs a mate. After some surprisingly well-done special effects sequences, Frankenstein agrees, and Pretorius proposes a toast, “To a new world of gods and monsters!” (a line that would later lend itself to the film Gods and Monsters, about the life of the movie’s director, James Whale).
The Monster, meantime, finds a voice as he starts spending time in the company of a blind hermit who teaches him a few words. As the film moves on, the Monster becomes more and more adept at speaking, and memorably gets the last line of the film.
Modern audiences cannot help but spot at least an undercurrent of homosexuality in the film. Whale himself was gay, and it seems obvious that Pretorius is meant to be at least somewhat gay (though this is disputed by many. He certainly pings my gaydar, for whatever that’s worth), and it’s possible that his relationship with Frankenstein is a little more than just as teacher and student.
Then there’s certain elements of religion. Notice the scene where the mob captures the Monster and ties him to a pole. It doesn’t make much to imagine him with his arms outstretched and lashed to a cross (which was apparently the original idea until the censors quashed it). One would hardly define the Monster as a Christ-figure, but the image remains.
There’s also a surprising amount of emotion. One cannot help but feel for the Monster, particularly in the scene at the end where, just as he hopes to get what he wants, he finds instead he’s lost everything. Karloff’s performance in the movie is masterful, particularly in those last few moments.
The look of the film is heavily influenced German Expressionist films, such as The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, Metropolis, and of course, Nosferatu. It gives us a great deal of atmosphere and illusion, tension and drama, and does so without really calling attention to itself.
If the film has any real flaw, it’s in what it has become over the decades. While the movie itself is still wonderful, it was very adeptly parodied in the movie Young Frankenstein, which is much more a satire of this film than the first one. When you see the scenes with the hermit in Bride…, it’s hard not to remember what Gene Hackman did with them in the later film. Not surprisingly, the two movies can make for a delightful double-feature.
The movie is longer scary, if it every really was. But instead it is a thoughtful, surprisingly intelligent and emotional movie that, like many great films, is about more than just the surface plot.


