Frankenstein

Dan Curtis’s Frankenstein is like enduring two hours of Dr. Who. If this is your style, then have fun. Otherwise, know that this was made in 1973 for public access British television on a budget that could maybe buy a top-model Honda. This means many things. For one, the audio quality will have you asking "what?” like clockwork. The constant humming and hissing from the poorly dubbed dialogue will have you climbing the walls. And if the cut-rate acting doesn’t pull your teeth out, Frankenstein’s surprisingly annoying intellectual side will. Out of all the Frankensteins to date, Bo Svenson’s is the smartest. It only takes him a couple of days to learn English, then one more to string poetic-sounding sentences together. Not bad for a walking hodgepodge of culled graveyard scraps. But this is why it ultimately fails. Frankenstein’s character was crafted by Mary Shelley to induce pure fear and amble around dopily while he did so. And to mess people up too. This one speaks like a polished Harvard grad and couldn’t harm a fly. You almost forget he’s Frankenstein. Robert Foxworth’s performance as Sr. Viktor Frankenstein is affable, if not petty. He’s apt at looking palely consumed with his "creation,” to the point of insanity, but it’s hard not to laugh at him when his screaming pitch hits the level of a schoolgirl’s. The disc’s special features include the original TV promo, a pointless recap and a longer preview from the original broadcast. There’s also audio commentary from Foxworth and director John Karlen. Their session has some moments, as well as a lot of awkward silence, nervy shuffling and mind-numbing narration. Sigh.