The Monster Within: Guillermo del Toro’s Enduring Fascination with Creation and Humanity
Guillermo del Toro, a name synonymous with visually stunning and emotionally resonant cinema, is no stranger to breathing life into the monstrous. From the aquatic romance of ‘The Shape of Water’ to the epic battles of ‘Pacific Rim,’ the acclaimed director has a unique talent for transforming perceived outsiders into beloved protagonists. His latest cinematic offering, a deeply personal adaptation of Mary Shelley’s timeless novel, ‘Frankenstein,’ is no exception. More than just a retelling, del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein’ delves into the very essence of creation, ambition, and the inherent flaws that drive us, drawing striking parallels between Shelley’s 19th-century anxieties and our own 21st-century technological landscape.
At 61, del Toro approaches filmmaking with an almost alchemical dedication. His meticulous planning, from the intricate scripts to the breathtaking storyboards, ensures that each frame is infused with his distinctive vision. This dedication is palpable in ‘Frankenstein,’ a project he has nurtured for years. The elaborate sets, rich costumes, and thoughtful expansions upon Shelley’s narrative are testaments to a director profoundly connected to his source material.
Raised in a devout Catholic household in Guadalajara, Mexico, del Toro’s early encounter with James Whale’s 1931 ‘Frankenstein’ film at the tender age of seven left an indelible mark. The creature, in its misunderstood vulnerability, became his ‘personal messiah,’ a sentiment that has guided his creative journey ever since. He has consistently championed the misunderstood, finding heroism in the ostensibly monstrous.
Now, with ‘Frankenstein’ gracing select theaters and arriving on Netflix, del Toro offers his most extravagant exploration yet of these ‘mistaken monsters.’ In a recent conversation, he shared insights into the film, his views on the burgeoning world of AI, and the Romantic era that birthed Shelley’s masterpiece.
The Echoes of Loss and Love: Byron, Shelley, and the Unbreakable Heart
The film culminates with a poignant quote from Lord Byron: "The heart will break, yet brokenly live on." This choice, seemingly detached from Shelley’s direct words, reveals a deeper layer of del Toro’s thematic tapestry. He explains that his ‘Frankenstein’ is not merely an adaptation of the book but an amalgamation of Mary Shelley’s life, his own biography, and a contemplation of the Romantic movement.
"One of the strands that I felt was missing, but very present, was war," del Toro states, referencing the tumultuous Napoleonic Wars that shaped the lives of Shelley and her contemporaries. Byron’s poem for Waterloo, from which the quote is drawn, encapsulates the film’s exploration of resilience in the face of devastation. It speaks to the personal experience of being ‘pulverized’ only to find the strength to ‘keep living.’
Byron’s influence extends beyond his poetry. It was he who, along with Percy Bysshe Shelley and John Polidori, sparked the genesis of ‘Frankenstein’ during a fateful summer gathering on Lake Geneva. Their challenge to write the best horror story resulted in Shelley’s groundbreaking novel.
Del Toro also touches upon the lesser-known, yet profoundly moving, aspect of Mary Shelley’s life: her unwavering devotion to Percy. Following his tragic death at sea, a common belief, and one del Toro asserts as fact, is that Shelley kept his heart. He recounts the grim details of Percy’s cremation, where the heart, a symbol of enduring strength, was one of the last organs to burn, eventually finding its place on Mary’s desk. This profound act of love beyond the grave, coupled with their elopement at a remarkably young age, paints a picture of the Shelleys as a ‘band of punks,’ defying convention.
Beyond the Torches and Pitchforks: A Modern Frankenstein
‘Frankenstein’ has been adapted countless times, often falling into the trope of the mad scientist and his rampaging creation. Del Toro, however, steers clear of this familiar territory. His adaptation is deeply faithful to the spirit of Shelley’s novel, embracing its complex structure. The film is divided into distinct narrative sections, each with its own unique voice. It begins with a framing narrative, then delves into Victor’s childhood and youth, before introducing the Creature’s perspective, which imbues the film with a ‘fairy-tale or parable feeling.’
"All I can say is what’s new is me," del Toro humbly offers, suggesting that his directorial imprint is the primary differentiator. He challenges the notion that Shelley’s novel is anti-science, positing instead that it is a profound exploration of existential questions, akin to ‘Paradise Lost.’ It grapples with the Romantic ideal of man questioning his place in the cosmos, asking, ‘Why am I here when I didn’t ask to be born?’
Victor Frankenstein, in del Toro’s interpretation, is not a villain but a tragic figure. He is a man of science, deeply flawed, who fails to confront the consequences of his actions. This refusal to repent, this ‘arrogance of Victor,’ del Toro observes, is a pervasive trait in contemporary society.
The Tyranny of Certainty: Politicians, Tech Bros, and the AI Question
Del Toro draws a stark parallel between Victor’s self-imposed blindness and the behavior of ‘tyrannical politicians and Silicon Valley tech bros.’ He argues that the modern world often ‘enthroned tyranny as a form of certainty,’ mistaking it for a virtue. In his view, true admiration lies with those ‘riddled with doubts,’ as ‘certainty and self-victimization oftentimes go hand-in-hand.’
This critique naturally extends to the realm of artificial intelligence. The idea of something being brought into existence without its consent, a core tenet of the Frankenstein narrative, resonates deeply with del Toro’s concerns about AI. While acknowledging its utility in fields like engineering and mathematics, he expresses a profound skepticism about its application in art.
"In art, I don’t think anyone asked for it. Nobody raised their hand and said, ‘Could you invent this?’" he questions, specifically mentioning the emergence of AI video generators. He believes the true tipping point will not be the creation of AI art itself, but the public’s willingness to consume and pay for it. "When that threshold is crossed, then we’ll see." At 61, del Toro expresses a sense of relief, hoping to ‘die before that takes root,’ demonstrating a clear desire to move away from the topic and focus on more human-centric narratives.
The Burden and Blessing of Parenthood and Legacy
Reflecting on his own journey, del Toro expresses a profound sense of gratitude for having become a father later in life, rather than a son dealing with paternal complexities. He speaks of the power of forgiveness that comes with age, the realization that parents are ‘fallible’ individuals burdened by their own histories.
"The more you age, the more you realize it is not an occupation," he says of parenthood. "This is something that is foisted upon them by life. And there’s a moment where you understand that the lineage of pain can pass or can stop with you."
Shelley’s Shadow: Gender, Grief, and Creation
Del Toro’s admiration for Mary Shelley is evident, and he acknowledges the societal limitations she faced as a woman in her time. He notes that while the father figure is less prominent in ‘Frankenstein,’ it looms large in Shelley’s other works, often depicting ‘tyrannical father figures.’ Her own relationship with her father was reportedly tense.
Furthermore, he points to the profound connection between birth and death in Shelley’s life and work, marked by the early deaths of her mother and her own infants. This theme of granting life without female agency, del Toro suggests, is deeply woven into the fabric of her creations.
His personal connection to these themes, stemming from his own family history of loss and miscarriage, creates a powerful kinship with Shelley. "That is very present in my movies," he admits.
Navigating the Shifting Sands of Cinema
In an industry undergoing seismic shifts, with studios consolidating and prioritizing streaming, del Toro remains an insightful observer. He acknowledges that the landscape is constantly evolving, with commercial imperatives often driving decisions. Yet, he remains optimistic about the resilience of art.
"As an art form, it is so diverse and beautifully alive that things happen in the most unexpected places," he asserts. He points to the success of anomalies like ‘Baby Reindeer’ and ‘Squid Game,’ which transcend traditional distribution models to reach vast global audiences, as proof of this enduring vitality.
The Future of Stop-Motion: Beyond the Children’s Table
Fans of del Toro’s distinctive stop-motion work will be pleased to know his next project will utilize this beloved technique. However, he aims to push its boundaries beyond its perceived limitations as solely a children’s medium. He is currently adapting Kazuo Ishiguro’s ‘The Buried Giant,’ a narrative far from the realm of typical family fare.
"My interest with the form is very different and has always been," he clarifies, envisioning stop-motion as a powerful art form capable of tackling ‘R-rated or PG-13 [topics].’ His vision aligns more closely with the European model of stop-motion, which he believes is a more sophisticated artistic expression.
‘The Buried Giant’ is in its early stages, with del Toro deep in research on its mechanical aspects and textiles. He is currently writing the screenplay, with tests and storyboarding on the horizon, aiming for production to begin the following year.
Beyond the Monsters: New Horizons in Storytelling
With a prolific career spanning numerous unmade screenplays and thirteen completed films, del Toro remains hungry for new creative challenges. While he has previously expressed interest in H.P. Lovecraft’s ‘At the Mountains of Madness,’ he now feels a pull towards exploring different territories.
"I am actually tempted to look for something different. To try tools that I normally don’t try," he shares, including an interest in pushing the technological boundaries of stop-motion. He is even open to genres outside his established forte, with a particular intrigue in crime narratives.
"I think crime is so interesting, because it allows you to investigate human nature," he explains, noting that crime fiction constitutes the second-largest section of his personal library.
He is currently working on a crime film for Oscar Isaac, titled ‘Fury,’ and emphasizes his desire to continuously look forward, to discover and explore new artistic avenues.
Guillermo del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein’ is more than just a film; it’s a philosophical exploration wrapped in a visually stunning package. It reminds us that the greatest monsters are not always those we create, but those we become when we lose our empathy and succumb to the siren call of unchecked ambition. In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and rapid technological advancement, del Toro’s timeless message about the enduring power of the human heart, with all its flaws and resilience, feels more vital than ever.
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