Frankenstein Created Woman

Peter Cushing returns as Baron Frankenstein in the fourth and possibly strongest of Hammers Frankenstein movies. Directed by Terence Fisher, it sees Susan Denberg killing herself after seeing her lover unjustly framed for murder and guillotined. She is resurrected by the Baron and his assistant (played by Thorley Walters), with her lover's soul in her, and sets off to avenge his death. Hammer went for something different here, the focus being on the metaphysical dimensions of Frankenstein's work as opposed to the physical, such as the question of the soul, and its relationship to the body. Critics seemed to hate it, but it has an army of fans including Martin Scorsese, who picked the movie as part of a 1987 National Film Theatre season of his favourite films. Released the same year as Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and the Summer of Love, this movie has some very far out notions upon which its plot hangs, yet it never descends into campiness or melodrama, and is just a great Peter Cushing Frankenstein film.

Susan Denberg was a Playboy Playmate in 1966, and had four screen appearances, before she went back to Europe. She becomes Dr. Frankenstein's latest subject.

Each of these films seem to get more and more elaborate as Dr. Frankenstein stretches the bounds of science. Of course, one has to believe in the existence of a soul to follow his logic, but that is his definition of life.

After her boyfriend Hans (Robert Morris) is unjustly executed for a murder committed by three spoiled rich kids, Christina (Denberg) takes her own life. But, Frankenstein works his magic and puts Hans soul into Christina and the horror begins as they take their revenge.

As I watch more Hammer films, it strikes me just how sad so many of them are.

Innocents and lost souls find themselves in a similar place in the afterlife, and it never ends happily for them there either. Here you have Susan Denberg, born with a facial disfigurement, taunted by the local toffs, who then sees her boyfriend executed. And that's just the start of her problems before an inevitable downbeat ending.

Hammer horror films, these days, are usually remembered mostly for Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, and also quite often for their campness. But they're almost always quite serious-minded horror tales that rarely have the get-out of a joke or a comedy character. They're also surprisingly aware in terms of societal issues. I can just imagine the three upper-class blokes who taunt Denberg here being members of the Bullingdon Club or something.

Certainly one of the better or even best Hammer films that I've seen.

I like this one a lot better than the previous sequel, even though it also lacks Christopher Lee. Cushing seems more interested in the script, though, and the whole concept is more engaging. Basically, Frankenstein is now working with an aging and drunken doctor in yet another small German town, and he discovers a means to preserve a soul and place it into (of course) a dead body. This time, though, he decides to try taking the soul of his young assistant, executed for a crime he did not commit, and place it into the body of said assistant's hot young lover (Susan Denberg), after she kills herself. The new man-woman becomes dedicated to killing the men who raped her and set him up to be framed. Again, this is rather racy stuff for the material, and there's an unfortunate lack of monster makeup (except for part of the film, in which Denberg has a facial deformity), but I quite enjoy it.

Of all the many films in the longstanding Hammer Frankenstein series, after "The Curse of Frankenstein," I like this one the best. It has a classic, almost mythic, structure of the lover who sacrifices himself to preserve the virtue of his beloved and a good deal of existential discussion about human nature. But beyond the heavy academics of its plot, Peter Cushing is truly great here. He's completely sympathetic, intelligent, and witty as a man struggling outside society's version of morality. Some people criticize Terence Fisher as a director who--apart from "Dracula" and "The Devil Rides Out"--had a static and slow-paced directorial style. They're completely wrong. Fisher was a master of the medium, a genius of composition whose films demonstrate so much intelligence. I miss the 1960's, Fisher, and Hammer Films.