Many casual horror fans are invariably surprised to learn that Mary Shelley’s 1818 gothic novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus does not include an actual Bride.
After wreaking havoc on Victor’s life, the Creature, designed to overcome death, demands a female companion whose love will counteract painful rejection from society. But plagued by fears of reproduction, Victor abandons this grotesque experiment before the reanimation process. Why then do so many cinematic adaptations bring this disturbing plan to life? Is it merely a case of show, don’t tell, or a salacious need to lay our own eyes on conventional beauty turned monstrous?
Two modern Brides rage at this objectification, choosing violence over subservience. Both set in 19th-century Europe, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Showtime’s gothic series Penny Dreadful offer rage-fueled female companions who choose destruction over subservience.
The Bride Burns with Fury in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
Though Kenneth Branagh’s conspicuously titled 1994 film purports to be a faithful adaptation, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein takes several narrative liberties, particularly with the story’s violent climax. Compelled by the murder of his young brother William (Ryan J.W. Smith), Victor (Branagh) acquiesces to the demands of his lonely Creature (Robert De Niro) and begins making plans for a female companion. But he balks at the “raw materials” chosen for the experiment. As Victor prepares his laboratory, the Creature brings him the body of Justine (Trevyn McDowell), freshly dug out of her grave. The daughter of the Frankenstein family’s faithful servant, Justine, has been raised alongside Victor and Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), viewing each other as brother and sister.
Sensing Victor’s hesitation, the Creature assures him, “If you deny me my wedding night, I will be with you on yours!”
Wracked with the guilt of his initial mistake, Victor is unable to complete his task. He plans to marry Elizabeth in secret, then flee, leaving his sinister experiments behind. But the Creature keeps his own promise and breaks into the newlyweds’ bedchamber. As Victor investigates a noise outside, the beastly suitor rips out Elizabeth’s beating heart. Victor watches in horror as the man he made tosses aside the love of his life, sending her smashing into glass and flame. Mad with grief, Victor rushes to the laboratory, chops off the head of his new bride, and sews it onto Justine’s body.
Reanimated, Elizabeth mirrors the extensive scarring of De Niro’s Creature. Heavy stitches criss-cross her face, bisecting her lips and essentially closing her right eye. Her hair has mostly been burned away, leaving bloody patches stretched across her scalp. Nevertheless, Victor dotes on this abomination and returns her to her wedding dress. He dances with Elizabeth in the laboratory, hoping to jog memories of their previous life. But this hideous reunion is interrupted by the Creature, who assumes Elizabeth has been made for him. Both vying for possession, they call to the confused and unsteady woman as if beckoning a long-lost pet. Approaching the Creature, Elizabeth brushes her fingers across his scars, then gingerly touches her own face. Horror dawns in her one remaining eye as she realizes her monstrosity.
This shocking scene departs from Shelley’s source material while modernizing Whale’s iconic scene in which Frankenstein (Colin Clive) and his Monster (Boris Karloff) try to claim the Bride (Elsa Lanchester) for themselves. But Branagh’s version ends with devastating empowerment. As the men jostle for control of her body, Elizabeth pushes them both away. Screaming with rage, she rejects this horrific scene and self-immolates by smashing a lamp over her head. Consumed with flames, she runs down the hallway, spreading a fire that will destroy Victor’s notorious lab and the rest of the Frankenstein house.
Penny Dreadful and the Reinvention of the Bride
Premiering on Showtime twenty years later, John Logan’s Penny Dreadful is a dream come true for fans of classic horror texts. Blending foundational novels like Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with cryptic folklore and urban legend, the story introduces us to Victor Frankenstein (Harry Treadaway) in the midst of his notorious work. Confronted by his horrific Creature, who will eventually be called John Clare (Rory Kinnear), the young doctor reluctantly agrees to construct a female companion and uses the resources he has on hand. Called to the bedside of his friend’s dying lover, Victor smothers Brona (Billie Piper) with a pillow, then takes her body back to his laboratory.
After ogling her nude corpse, Victor reanimates the former sex worker whom he renames Lily Frankenstein. Though John’s resurrected body shows the extensive scars of reconstruction, his female variant is unexpectedly gorgeous. Save for artful scars along her decolletage, the immortal woman could easily pass for human. Gone is Brona’s working-class accent and unkempt red hair. Lily is now a striking blonde, and the doctor sets about teaching her the habits of high society. Creator and creature begin to play house, and Victor slowly falls in love, intoxicated by the power he holds over a beautiful woman with no concept of the outside world.
As the reanimated woman gains more power, she balks at this conformity. Leaving Victor’s tiny home, she muses, “We flatter our men with our pain. We bow before them. We make ourselves dolls for their amusement. We lose our dignity in corsets and high heels and gossip and the slavery of marriage. And our reward for this service? The back of the hand. The face turned toward the pillow.” This final damning admission reveals memories of her former life and what Victor has done to her. Lily also rejects John Clare, enraged that he would assume her love simply because she’s been built to complement him. She turns instead to another immortal, Dorian Gray (Reeve Carney), who luxuriates in wealth and excess while his portrait ages in the attic.
Season three sees Lily lean into rage at a lifetime of objectification. After rescuing a young sex worker named Justine (Jessica Barden), she begins amassing a feminist army. Using Dorian’s home as her headquarters, Lily teaches masses of disillusioned women to overtake and kill their Johns, hoping to rid the city of these disgusting men. But Dorian grows bored with her revolution and betrays his immortal bride. He helps Victor imprison Lily in his lab, where he’s prepared another dehumanizing experiment. With help from Dr. Jekyll (Shazad Latif), the young doctor plans to “domesticate” his creation and remove all memory of her former life, leaving an empty shell with no defense against his domestic control. But Lily would rather die than return to a life of subservience. Remembering Brona’s infant daughter who died thanks to a violent John, she sparks mercy in her pitiful creator. Released, she also confronts Dorian, leaving both men to their sad and lonely lives.
Rushed by an unexpected cancellation, this imperfect conclusion leaves Lily on a hopeful note. She has escaped the men who hoped to imprison her and is now free to conquer the world on her own.
Rage Over Romance in Modern Brides of Frankenstein
Though they look markedly different, Elizabeth and Lily both unite in seething rage. Their bodies viewed as raw materials, they have both been murdered and non-consensually reanimated, denied the peace of their afterlife. Resurrected, Elizabeth is a combination of two women harmed by Victor’s experiment. Justine is falsely accused of the Creature’s crime and executed by an angry mob. And Elizabeth is murdered as revenge for Victor’s refusal to animate her sister’s body. Yet these two wronged women are essentially commanded to mindlessly mate with these monstrous men. Though De Niro’s Creature is marginally more sympathetic than the vile Victor, both men expect her companionship simply because they desire it. They have ruined the lives of two vibrant women and twisted them together into an image of horrific domestication.
Though Lily has been similarly betrayed, she gains the ability to seek “monumental revenge.” It’s no coincidence that the Creature she’s been created to match shares the symbolic name given to men who prey on vulnerable sex workers. Along with Victor and Dorian, they view her as an attractive body created to meet their various needs. She sees no difference between the abusive men who tormented her on the London streets and the men who want her as their beautiful wife. They promise to treat her with love and respect so long as she has no needs of her own and promises to remain subservient. Victor and Dorian frame her refusal as sickness and conspire to transform her back into a “proper woman.” But Lily insists, “I would rather die as I am than live as your demure little wife.” Elizabeth channels this palpable rage and rejects both offers of companionship, choosing instead to destroy herself.
On the surface, Lily and Elizabeth have little in common save for the tragic circumstances of their resurrection. Victor truly loves Elizabeth and believes he would do anything to win her love, but he cannot see past his selfish hubris and becomes the author of her ruin. Both Brona and Lily have spent their lives being used and discarded by similarly selfish men. While this takes vastly different forms based on her physical appearance and societal status, the objectification remains the same. She has become a tool for men’s amusement, used to bolster their own masculinity. Though their stories take place hundreds of years ago, both women become powerful avatars, pushing back against a patriarchal world very much like one we see today. Through their monstrous rage, Elizabeth and Lily suggest that if we cannot have our own monumental revenge, we must burn the entire system down.
Here Comes the Bride; Maggie Gyllenhaal’s spin on the Bride of Frankenstein arrives in March. We’re celebrating with a look back at the various iterations of the classic horror icon.
