Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is among the most iconic films ever made and arguably the greatest horror sequel of all time. Its images are indelible from the Monster’s encounter with the hermit in the woods, to Dr. Pretorius’s little creations in jars, to the Bride’s lightning-streaked Nefertiti hairdo.
It seeks to outdo the first film and succeeds in practically every way, continuing and deepening the story and themes from the first film while infusing itself with humor, subtext, and pathos rarely seen in horror before. But Bride of Frankenstein was, more than once, nearly a very different creature altogether.
Talk of a sequel began almost immediately, thanks to a triumphant preview screening of Frankenstein in October of 1931. The cut shown at this preview ended with the shot of the burning windmill surrounded by villagers, and both the Monster and Henry Frankenstein were presumed dead. The audience response was so positive that an additional scene was shot featuring old Baron Frankenstein making a toast with a group of servants while his son, with Elizabeth at his bedside, convalesces in the background. After the film was a huge box-office success, the fires of sequel ambition only burned hotter.
Unfortunately for Universal, director James Whale had no interest, saying, “I squeezed the idea dry on the original picture and never want to work on it again.” Perhaps hoping to return to the graces of Universal and its production head Carl Laemmle, Jr., Robert Florey wrote a treatment soon after the release of Frankenstein called “The New Adventures of Frankenstein—The Monster Lives!” Florey had been the original director of the 1931 film before being reassigned to Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) after a debacle over test footage he shot with Bela Lugosi as the Monster.
His short treatment was politely read, rejected, and returned to him in February of 1932. Murders in the Rue Morgue was released soon after and flopped, leading to Florey’s dismissal from Universal. Beyond its title, which sounds more like an Errol Flynn swashbuckler than a horror movie, little is known of this treatment, and it is presumed lost to time along with his notorious test footage for Frankenstein.
The Return of Frankenstein
In mid-1933, Tom Reed, a staff writer and scenarist for Universal, turned in a fifty-one-page treatment called “The Return of Frankenstein” that he subsequently expanded into a screenplay. This version of the story includes several elements that made it to the final film, including beginning at the burning windmill, a female creature, and a version of the hermit sequence, the latter two aspects found in Mary Shelley’s original novel. The treatment also includes Victor Moritz, played by John Boles in the original film, who has a girlfriend named Karen, who also happens to be Elizabeth’s sister.
This is quite a departure from Frankenstein, as Victor clearly has feelings for Elizabeth in the film. Reed’s story also takes place over a greater span of time, as Henry and Elizabeth have gotten married partway through the treatment and have a two-year-old child. The Monster, who encounters Henry by chance, demands that Frankenstein create a female companion for him, but Henry fails. The Monster, in turn, kills Elizabeth to be brought back as his mate, but in the end, he, along with Henry, dies by electrocution, and Victor and Karen take the responsibility of raising the now orphaned child.
The screenplay was approved by Universal and the Production Code Administration. The studio officially announced The Return of Frankenstein in September 1933 with Kurt Neumann attached to direct. Then, in November, the James Whale-helmed The Invisible Man was released to great success, and Junior knew he wanted the director for The Return of Frankenstein. But Whale was still not very interested and absolutely hated the script, telling friends, “They’ve had a script made for a sequel, and it stinks to heaven.”
Verging on desperate to bring Whale on board, Junior dangled several carrots in front of him, including offering Whale a project he wanted called One More River, total creative control of the new Frankenstein film, and, of course, more money. Two new treatments were also ordered for The Return of Frankenstein that ran very far afield of what was eventually filmed while Whale busied himself with directing One More River (1934).
The first of these treatments, delivered in December 1933 by Philip MacDonald, involves the Monster being revived by the Delta Ray, a death ray invented by Dr. Frankenstein that he intends to sell to the League of Nations. Quite some time has passed since the Monster perished in the windmill, and Henry and Elizabeth have a young son. Victor also returns in this version and declares his love for Elizabeth as she lies in a hospital bed after falling ill. Ultimately, both creator and creation die by death ray, and Elizabeth and Victor end up together.
Another treatment written in late 1933 or early 1934 by L.G. Blochman sees Henry and Elizabeth join a traveling carnival (as puppeteers, no less) to hide out from the Monster who has awakened and begun terrorizing the countryside. Eventually, the Monster finds them and demands that Frankenstein create a mate for him. He does, but the companion does not survive, sending the Monster into a frenzy. In the midst of the havoc he wreaks on the carnival, the Monster is attacked and torn apart by lions. This version differs further in its description of the Monster, which is in no way sympathetic in the treatment, and has more animalistic qualities, including fangs.
James Whale Returns to Direct
After finishing One More River, Whale knew he could no longer avoid the Frankenstein sequel and, unsatisfied with the various treatments and scripts, called upon John L. Balderston to start from scratch. Balderston was a key player in the early Universal monster movies, having adapted the British plays of Dracula and Frankenstein for American audiences, upon which the scripts of the film versions were based, and writing The Mummy (1932) as an original script. By all accounts, Whale had total control over every aspect of what was then still called The Return of Frankenstein and worked with Balderston in shaping the script through four drafts, the last of which was submitted to the Production Code office, where PCA head Joseph I. Breen demanded several changes.
Feeling Balderston was burnt out on the project, Whale passed the script to other writers, including R.C. Sherriff, who had adapted The Invisible Man, William Hurlbut, and Edmund Pearson. According to James Whale’s biographer James Curtis, the final result of this work was mostly an amalgamation of the various Balderston drafts with some polish along the way. In the end, only Balderston and Hurlbut received credit for adaptation, and Hurlbut for screenplay.
With PCA approval of the script, the cast was assembled, including returning leads Colin Clive and Boris Karloff, who had become horror’s biggest star in the years since the release of the original film. He also seems to have become very protective of the role that made him famous and objected to the Monster speaking, indulging in everyday vices like drinking and smoking, and infusing the proceedings with so much humor. Despite his objections, Karloff gave arguably his best performance as the Monster when cameras began rolling in early 1935.
Also joining the cast were Whale favorites Una O’Connor in the comedic role of Minnie, Elsa Lanchester in the dual roles of Mary Shelley and the Bride, and Ernest Thesiger as the film’s new villain, Dr. Pretorius. Claude Rains was originally set to play this role, but was moved to The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1935), and Thesiger was cast in his most memorable role.
Notably missing are John Boles, whose Victor Moritz character was written out of the sequel, and Mae Clarke as Elizabeth. Clarke had worked with Whale in Waterloo Bridge (1931) before reaching icon status when James Cagney shoved a grapefruit in her face in The Public Enemy (1931). But due to very public mental struggles and physical ailments, including injuries sustained in a car accident, Clarke was not asked to return for Bride. She was heartbroken but continued her career in small roles in film and later on television before leaving the industry for good in the early 1970s. Universal ingenue Valerie Hobson stepped into the role of Elizabeth and took the character in a very different direction from Clarke.
The Bride of Frankenstein Walks Down the Aisle in the Greatest Horror Sequel
Proving his total control over the production, Whale shut down filming for ten days when there was nothing else left to shoot to wait for actor O.P. Heggie to finish his commitment on a film at RKO to play the Hermit. After he became available and the iconic scene between Heggie and Karloff was finally in the can, production wrapped on March 7, 1935, ten days over schedule and a little more than $100,000 over budget. Slated for an April 19th release, postproduction began immediately and furiously, including recording Franz Waxman’s score in just one nine-hour session.
The first cut of Bride of Frankenstein, a title Whale insisted upon over The Return of Frankenstein, clocked in at 90 minutes, but naturally, the Hays Office demanded cuts, especially to the film’s violence. Whale acquiesced on at least one aspect, agreeing to cut a sequence involving Dwight Frye’s character Karl in which he kills his uncle and blames it on the Monster. Whale made several more cuts of his own accord, including a comedic scene with the Burgomaster and lines of dialogue to quicken the pace.
Days before the film’s premiere, Whale changed the ending as well. In the preview cut, Henry and Elizabeth perished along with Pretorius, the Monster, and the Bride, but it apparently did not feel right to Whale. He brought Karloff, Clive, and Hobson back for an additional day of shooting to make the change and give the film a partial happy ending. The film was a rousing success, and even the critical notices were positive, though often offered with a caveat along the lines of “great—for this type of film,” reiterating the lack of respect afforded the horror genre in certain critical circles.
To characterize Bride of Frankenstein as a success is an understatement. It is a towering achievement that redefined the horror genre and entered the cultural lexicon in a way that few films have. That it is not only still watched but endlessly discussed, analyzed, homaged, remade, merchandised, and affectionately parodied over 90 years after its release is a remarkable rarity in our era of “here today, forgotten tomorrow” content-based media.
Though a film like Bride feels inevitable as we have lived with it for so long, it is helpful to remember the blood, sweat, and tears that go into creating great art. Though Bride of Frankenstein travelled a long and winding road, or aisle as it may be, after over 90 years, she remains Queen of the Monsters.
Long may she reign.
