Release Year: 1931

Genre: Drama, Horror, Sci-Fi

Director: James Whale

Writer: John L. Balderston, Francis Edward Faragoh, Garrett Fort, Peggy Webling (play), Mary Shelley (novel)

Stars: Boris Karloff, Colin Clive, Mae Clarke

Monstrous human makes humane monster. Hilarity—if you define hilarity as "lots of growling, low-grade torture, throwing children into lakes, and windmill fires" ensues.

That's Frankenstein's plot in a nutshell. But here's the thing: Frankenstein, like Frankenstein's monster, is more than the sum of its parts.

Frankenstein's monster is made of corpses, the heart of a criminal, and some seriously life-giving lightning power (Thor would be proud). But Mr. Monster is actually a pitiable, yearning, totally lovable presence—he has the kind of character you'd get if you crossed a Labradoodle puppy and the Peanut Butter Baby. Unfortunately, he also has the strength of ten men…which leads to more than a few deaths.

And Frankenstein is, on its surface, just another horror movie adapted from a canonical novel. But there's a reason we still not only know, but also quote, a movie made in 1931—it's a genre-defining classic that's about way more than spills n' chills.

Here's the plot, in case you've been hiding under a rock since 1930:

Mad scientist Henry Frankenstein gets all wrapped up in his experiments and the pursuit of science and forgets the difference between "cool inventions" and "playing God." He makes a monster, shouts "It's aliiiiive!" and then almost immediately begins to regret his decision.

Because the monster turns out to be dangerous—he kills Frankenstein's assistant, his mentor, a little girl, and almost kills Frankenstein's fiancée, and Frankenstein himself. So good old Henry decides to help a bunch of villagers track down the monster and kill him dead.

But director James Whale made sure that Frankenstein's monster was the most sympathetic creature in the entire movie. This is a monster with a desire to go out into the sunshine, which contrasts absolutely with Dr. Frankenstein's desire to go perform sicko experiments in a dank, dark castle. This is a monster who has fun playing with a little girl, which contrasts absolutely with Dr. Frankenstein's desire to create a "child" out of corpse bits instead of creating a baby by, you know, baby-making.

In fact, the monster's innate sweetness (along with his iconic makeup: neck bolts are so metal) is one of the reasons that we often forget the presence of Mad Scientist Frankenstein and call "Frankenstein's monster" simply "Frankenstein." He's the star of the show.

And the monster's presence is still felt in movies today. You can see his signature neck bolts echo through in horror movie villains like Hellraiser's Pinhead, and you can see the legacy of his green skin in characters from The Incredible Hulk to The Wicked Witch of the West.

Most importantly, though, is the fact that Frankenstein's monster's likeability had a profound impact on deepening the characterization of movie monsters—The Fly's titular fly is as pitiable as he is disgusting, and you could even argue that Frozen's QueenElsa tips her crown to her cinematic ancestor through her reckless naivety and lack of understanding about how powerful she really is. 

So while the scare-factor of this classic B movie is totally diminished (the shark scene in Finding Nemo is scarier than the entirety of Frankenstein put together), the awesomeness of its monster is still alive and well. Or should we say it's aliiiiiiive and well?

Google Frankenstein and you'll be rewarded with a movie list thirty-six films deep. Thirty-six. That means that Frankenstein flicks have been being made approximately every two and a half years since 1931. (And we're not even counting foreign language films, btw.)

We think that's proof positive that not only you, but the entirety of the film-going world, cares about Frankenstein. Hollywood isn't known for producing movies that have zero audience appeal, after all.

But why? Why do people care so much about the legacy of a film made back when Prohibition was still alive and kicking and when the Empire State Building was the tallest structure on earth? And why should you skip all those Frankenstein sequels/remakes and go straight to the original black and white film?

One word: brains.

Frankenstein has a couple of brains. It has, according to Dr. Waldman "one of the most perfect specimens of the human brain" kept in a jar in the university. That's the brain Frankenstein's assistant Fritz's supposed to steal…but he drops it.

Oops. Instead he gets (again in Waldman's words) "the abnormal brain of the typical criminal" which lacks "convolutions on the frontal lobe."

And what happens when you get a bad brain? You end up with a bad monster—one who kills people, just like a common criminal.

So, Frankenstein thinks (with its brain) that brains make you bad or good. If you've got convolutions in your frontal lobe, you'll be a good sort who goes into the office every day and pats kittens on the head and doesn't throw little girls into the lake. If you lack convolutions, you'll be a monster who goes "Arggggh!" and kills people.

But hold on to your brain for just a second. Because…who's the first person the monster kills? It's Fritz. And why does he kill Fritz? Not because of convolutions on the frontal lobe, but because, Frankenstein says, "Fritz always tormented him."

It isn't the faulty brain that provokes violence here; it's the way the poor monster is treated. Lock him in darkness, threaten him with fire—and he lashes out against his tormentors.

Frankenstein is posing the good old nature vs. nurture debate: are you born with your convoluted brain, and doomed to a life of evil or friendliness? Or, alternately, are you born a blank slate, one who can be evil or friendly, depending on how you're treated?

No one really knows the answer to those questions. How much of you comes from your brain, and how much of you comes from how your brain was fertilized and tended by your parents?

As the monster would say, "Grrrr?"

Frankenstein's smart (with its brain) because it doesn't answer those questions either. Instead, it poses them in such a way that you can pick either answer. Maybe it's the monster's brain that causes all the ruckus. Or maybe it's the fact that Henry's a jerk and treats his monster badly. Even when you stitch it together yourself, life's a mystery.

Frankenstein knows that…which is why it's worth caring about, and why it's spawned thirty-six-and-counting baby Frankenstein-related movies.