Why Everyone’s Talking About the New Frankenstein — and What It Reveals About the Human Mind

Guillermo del Toro’s new Frankenstein isn’t just a gothic masterpiece—it’s a psychological mirror. Starring Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein and Jacob Elordi as the Creature, the film reaches beyond horror to explore the deepest layers of the human psyche: identity, guilt, loneliness, and the desperate need for connection.

Del Toro has long described monsters as symbols of the soul’s hidden corners—the parts of ourselves we fear, repress, or deny. His Frankenstein captures this perfectly. Victor’s obsession with creation can be seen as a reflection of the human drive toward control and mastery, a defense against mortality and helplessness. The Creature, meanwhile, embodies what psychologists call the shadow self—the parts of our personality we disown but that still demand to be acknowledged.

The dynamic between creator and creation unfolds like a tragic therapy session that never happened. Victor abandons his “child,” unable to tolerate the imperfections of what he’s made—just as many people struggle to accept their own flaws or the pain they’ve caused. The Creature’s rage, shame, and longing for love evoke classic attachment trauma: he seeks connection from the very person who rejects him, trapped in a cycle of hope and despair.

Visually, the film draws us in with del Toro’s signature beauty-in-grotesque style, but emotionally, it pulls us deeper. It asks: What happens when we refuse to face our inner monsters? When we deny empathy to what we fear? When our creations—be they children, ideas, or technologies—reflect our unresolved wounds back at us?

It’s no surprise the film earned a 13-minute standing ovation at Venice. Del Toro hasn’t just revived Mary Shelley’s story; he’s turned it into a psychological allegory about abandonment, identity, and the dangerous consequences of emotional avoidance.

In the end, Frankenstein reminds us that monsters aren’t born—they’re made. And often, they’re made by love withheld, by empathy denied, and by the parts of ourselves we cannot bear to see.