What in hell were the makers of this monstrosity thinking?
McGuigan's visually vivid Victor Frankenstein races to its lightning-storm finish, running over the solid (if not electrifying) acting of McAvoy and Radcliffe.
To avoid the accusation that it's an unnecessary remake of an oft-told story, screenwriter Max Landis has reduced Mary Shelly's cautionary tale to a bad comic book, bereft of soul and intelligence.
"Victor Frankenstein" goes uphill ... for a bit before plummeting downhill fast.
The latest resurrection of Mary Shelley's horror classic has a tech-era vibe that adds to its modest appeal.
Only Radcliffe escapes unscathed, lending Igor a convincing psychology despite the ham-fistedness of the material. But he's not enough of a reason to resurrect this story again.
McAvoy's performance is good for a few laughs, but the doctor never seems capable of sustaining a serious thought, let alone creating life.
It's got terrific set design, and some striking performances. But like the creature seen all-too-briefly at the end, it's a rough thing of patches and pieces, crudely stitched together.
The first words spoken in Victor Frankenstein are "You know the story," and anyone who simply mutters "Yep," gets up, and heads back to the box office for a refund will be well ahead of the game.