oldblackandwhite I must add my own two-cents worth to those others who regard Frankenstein: The True Story as the most satisfying film version of of Mary Shelly's 1818 classic. Though it is not a literal translation of the story, it captures the philosophical nature, melancholy mood and epic scope of Mrs. Shelly's novel better than any other celluloid rendition. While keeping the bare bones (no pun intended) of the novel's plot, it dances all around the original story, pulling off plot elements here and there, then sticking them back on elsewhere. For instance, Henri, in the original merely Victor Frankenstein's concerned best friend, is transformed into a mad doctor who gives Victor the monster-making knowledge. In the book Elizabeth was the ward of Victor's father, but Vic is the ward of Liz's dad in True Story. The Dr. Polidori character, played by James Mason oozing evil from every pore, was a brilliant touch, but no such character appears in the novel. Yet, there was a real-life Polidori in Mary Shelly's orbit. He was Shelly friend Lord Byron's personal physician, confidant, and dope supplier. A brilliant young man, who had already published several medical books, he tragically took his own life at age 21 -- according to some, because of his unrequited love for Mary Shelly!True Story owes little to previous movie versions, neither the mossy old 1930's and 'forties Universal Frankenstein series or Hammer's 1950's/'60's revivals, but is a completely fresh approach. The brilliant script by Isherwood and Bachardy is almost as literary as Mrs. Shelly novel, yet even more exciting and stimulating. True Story is a splendid production, probably one of the most handsomely turned out made-for-TV numbers of all time. Period (1797 and following) sets and costumes are exquisite. The cinematography is beautiful, belying its TV origins every step of the way. Unlike most TV movies of the time and practically all current theatrical movies, it disdains the shot-a-second montage method in favor of the mise-en-scene approach -- every scene starts with a precisely composed long shot, which gradually pans in to close-up. This classic style of cinematography complements the beautiful sets, enhances the melancholy mood, and displays the humanity of the characters better than montage. Here it is used brilliantly by director of photography Arthur Ibbetson and director Jack Smight.Frankenstein: The True Story is expertly acted by Mason, Leonard Whiting (Victor), Nicole Padget (Elizabeth), Michael Sarrizan (Creature), Jane Seymour (female creature) and the rest of a fine cast. It is dramatically engaging, thoroughly engrossing for its entire three hours, intellectually stimulating, and gorgeously filmed. A delight from beginning to end. Even Old Hollywood would have been proud to have turned out such a complete motion picture.P.S. -- Those who are interested in learning more about that early 19th century femme fa-tale and the origin of her famous monster story would do well to read Miranda Seymour's superbly researched, highly readable biography of Mary Shelly (Grove Press, NY, 2000).

Parks "Frankenstein - The True Story" starts with the redoubtable James Mason introducing himself and explaining that what we are about to see is all from the imagination of 19 year old Mary Shelley. It really isn't, you know. This film is a hybrid of the novel, the 1930's movies and the 1950's Hammer version, all mixed up by Christopher Isherwood of "Cabaret" and "A Single Man". The result is a sumptuous Gothic tragedy with a literate script.In this version, Dr. Frankenstein brings a corpse back to life using power from the sun. This is no lumbering monstrosity but a good- looking young chap, eager to learn and with a love of opera. So Victor and his creation get along very well - Victor teaches the creature refined etiquette and takes him out and about. But then Victor realises his monster is degenerating as time passes, and turning back into a walking corpse. As the creature's once-fine features crumble, Victor turns his back on the monster who responds first with confusion and grief, then fury. What I really liked about this version is that it makes the motives of all the key players fall into place. You really sympathise with this creature, rejected by an indifferent creator as a failed experiment. And while the film is not particularly gory or scary, there are some genuinely unsettling moments - like the insinuation that the monster's soul is an amalgam of all the dead that went into making him.There's a terrific cast including James Mason as the malevolent Dr. Polidori (and no-one seems quite so delighted with themselves when being evil as good old JM). Michael Sarrazin as the creature, David McCallum as Victor's mentor and Jane Seymour Medicine Woman as Yokel With Cleavage. Lots of other familiar faces turn up too including John Gielgud, Ralph Richardson, Tom Baker, Agnes "Endora" Morehead and even Yootha "Mildred" Joyce. I've never been a Frankenfan before, but I really enjoyed this one.

tonstant viewer "Frankenstein: The True Story" is what happens when a literary adaptation is allowed to run riot over dramatic elements. Christopher Isherwood is a highly respected writer, but someone should have stopped him from this flaccid reverie only partially based on Mary Shelley's story.During the course of the 3-hour version of this TV movie, you can catch the author making heavy-handed references to "Pygmalion," "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," "The Hands of Orlac," "Tales of Hoffmann," and "Fu Manchu" among others. It almost turns into a parlor game to catch the petty thefts from other sources.Perhaps the whole thing might have gone better with another director. I've never seen a Jack Smight movie without feeling that he's somehow fumbled it, slack rhythms and the camera often in the wrong place. This too feels like a misfire. Pyrotechnics and lava lamp effects notwithstanding, the great set pieces are uniformly feeble. It's like he doesn't shoot the story, but shoots around it.Smight certainly gets bad performances out of well-remembered actors. James Mason is helplessly inadequate trying to convey the emotion of terror. Agnes Moorehead is over the top, Michael Wilding produces his dazed smile and little more, Margaret Leighton is actively embarrassing, Sir John Gielgud perfunctory and Sir Ralph Richardson's blind hermit is perhaps the worst performance of his film career.I suppose it's not possible to stage the love triangle of Victor Frankenstein, the girl he wants to marry and the male monster he creates without raising an eyebrow from time to time, but this retelling of the tale strongly evokes the sexual ambiguities of Isherwood's "Cabaret." The monster is played not by a hulk but by a hunk, a soulful young stud who loves Mozart opera. The first meeting of Frankenstein and his monster plays like a pickup. The character of Dr. Polidori is openly contemptuous of "mere" women, and it is he, not the monster, who disrupts Victor's wedding night. Generally women come off very badly, the older ones caricatures of old bags, and the younger ones annoying, even nightmarish, in their sexual demands.Despite the starriness of the supporting cast, this film is merely a curiosity. The famous Karloff/Whale version remains the first among equals, and the Oscarsson/Floyd "Terror of Frankenstein" conveys the book the best among the color versions.Unfortunately, Mel Brooks actually gets closer to Mary Shelley's vision than this film does. Only for completists.

John_B_Beck I loved this movie when it first came out as a TV mini-series in 1973. The cast was excellent as well as the plot and the camera work. I truly hope that it comes out soon on DVD and that it is uncut. I loved the entire movie and my favorite scene is near the very end when the creature (Michael Sarrazin) says: "Bravo Victor". Some of the other Frankenstein movies that have come out over the years have Dr. Frankenstein's first name as "Henry" (as in the 1931 classic with Colin Clive). The full title of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's book is: "Frankenstein - or the Modern Prometheus".And of course everyone knows she was married to the Percy Bysshe Shelley (who was still married). And according to Mary the novel came about from a nightmare she had.