Dysfunctional Family:The Universal Frankenstein Legacy

by Gary J. Svehla

      Bela Lugosi might be the most revered horror personality of the century and his interpretation of Count Dracula from Universal's 1931 classic Dracula might be the king of the classic monsters, but I believe that Boris Karloff's interpretation of the Frankenstein Monster is the more important Universal monster icon.

      And the reasons are not as apparent as one might think.

      With his gaunt, skeletal appearance, his dead, sad eyes, his elongated arms, his stiff walk, and his terrifying groans, Boris Karloff's mime enactment of this ever-familiar fiend is the stuff of which classic movie performances are made. 1931's minimalist performance in Frankenstein --deadly serious and deathlike--led to 1935's more fully fleshed out, partially vocal interpretation of the dead man who walks again, uncomprehendingly, in Bride of Frankenstein . And while 1939's Son of Frankenstein featured Karloff's Frankenstein Monster more as a sideline advancing Basil Rathbone's interpretation of Dr. Frankenstein to star status and Bela Lugosi's supporting performance as crazed blacksmith Ygor to prominence, Karloff's Monster was still symbolically the star of the show.

      But after so many years of in-depth, detailed film criticism, so many years of analyzing James Whale's and Rowland V. Lee's directing style and shining a light on so many star performances, what is left to discuss? For me, an analysis of how Boris Karloff transformed a potential one-trick-pony performance into a motion picture franchise, and why the Frankenstein Monster, as created by Karloff, became the most symbolically mythic and mesmeric of all the Universal monsters has never been successfully explained. Perhaps this chapter might shed a little more light on these two areas.

      First of all, it must be noted that Universal's Frankenstein series became, artistically, the most significant horror film franchise because screenwriters such as Garrett Fort, Francis E. Faragoh, Robert Florey, John Balderston, and William Hurlbut did not idolize the Mary Shelley novel and instead only incorporated themes from the novel into the screenplay. The concept of the monster created from dead body parts reanimated with lightning, his body housing a defective, criminal brain, was solely the province of Universal. No beautiful-looking Adam here. Instead Boris Karloff created a unique sympathetic monster that has haunted the silver screen for over 60 years. And it is in those instances where the movies deviate from the source novel that the artistry of Universal (classic stories, inspired photography and direction, outstanding and unique performances, Gothic set design) comes to the forefront.

      While Mary Shelley's novel deals primarily with the theme of abandonment (as do the Universal films), Universal wisely further develops this theme to depict one of cinema's first dysfunctional families, and the audience's ability to relate to such disharmony becomes the cornerstone upon which the Monster's personality is based.

      For the time being, we will deal with the first two entries-- Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein --both produced by Carl Laemmle's original Universal and directed by the gifted James Whale. After these two movies, everything Universal presented in the Frankenstein mythos was a variation on a theme created here.

      These original two Frankenstein movies bombard the audience with depictions of father/son relationships that have gone awry. We have the elder Baron Frankenstein concerned, as the wedding grows closer, that his son Henry (Colin Clive) is so obsessed with "another woman" that he fears Henry's dalliance will destroy his relationship with fiancée Elizabeth. The Baron simply cannot accept the concept that it is Henry's scientific work that threatens the relationship, not another female.

      We also have the father/son relationship between Henry and his devoted assistant Fritz (Dwight Frye), who is excited by the very same things that excite Henry, so he can be accepted by his protective mentor. The hunchback jumps into the grave as Henry is digging up the coffin at Frankenstein 's beginning and enthusiastically chimes, "Here it comes," as they lift the box upward. Later, when Henry tells Fritz to climb up the gallows pole to cut loose the corpse, the hunchback, afraid and horrified, shouts "no," but with more prodding agrees. It seems Fritz will do anything necessary to please the master/father figure.

      Furthermore, we have the father/son relationship existing between Henry and his old professor from Goldstadt Medical College, Dr. Waldman (Edward Van Sloan), who taught at the college Henry abruptly left when his eccentric experiments involving fresh corpses led to suspicion. With gleeful intensity Henry tells his teacher "you were wrong" and excitedly tells Waldman how and why. A parallel relationship exists in Bride of Frankenstein when Dr. Pretorius (Henry's old professor from college) becomes the mentor and Victor the son/student.

      Even the Burgomaster in Bride becomes father to the village's playful and fearful citizens. To reinforce this position, he all-knowingly utters: "You should thank your lucky stars they sent for me to safeguard life and property!"

      And even Henry's adversary relationship with God is father/son based, with Henry daring to supersede the power of the creator by daring to steal the Father's secrets and use them to satisfy his own morbid curiosity.

      And from these deteriorating father/son relationships come three-way triangles that threaten to destroy the titular or actual family.

      For instance, in the original 1931 production, we see just how much the elder Baron is a creature of tradition. Before the wedding he lifts the glass cover of an ornamental tray that houses orange blossoms, which have been worn by Frankenstein grooms for three generations. Speaking to Henry, "Thirty years ago I placed this on your mother's head... in 30 years a youngster of yours will carry on this tradition."

      While another woman does not threaten this relationship between Elizabeth and Henry, the obsessive nature of Henry's work does. His work figuratively becomes the "other woman" in the relationship. In Bride of Frankenstein , newlywed bride Elizabeth becomes immediately fearful and jealous of Dr. Pretorius, thinking Pretorius will once again ignite those ungodly passions which led to Henry's near death. So symbolically, Pretorius becomes "the other woman" to threaten Elizabeth's relationship with her husband.

      While Fritz becomes the dutiful servant/assistant to Henry, Henry's increasing attention to his creation makes Fritz jealous; Fritz' abusive nature toward the Monster (tormenting him with whips and fire) may very well be a reflection of such jealousy.

      All this leads up to the dysfunctional relationship existing between Henry and the Monster--first the all-attentive/obsessive Henry becomes bored with and neglectful of his "son," Henry's neglect allowing Fritz to torment the Monster and then Waldman to try to dissect it. Thus, the Monster feels unwanted, isolated, freakish, and desperately wants a friend of its own.

      While the Frankenstein Monster might briefly haunt or terrify us, as it did audiences in the 1930s, the audience is much more likely to relate to the Monster's symbolic function as a rejected, isolated, unloved, innocent victim. And here is where the Monster becomes most mythic and ingrained in our psychological consciousness. This is where the Monster becomes the most important of all Universal monster icons.

      I have come up with a list of eight reasons why we as an audience feel empathetic and even sympathetic toward Karloff's Monster, and by detailing roughly 20 sequences from the first two Universal Frankenstein movies, the Monster's ability to touch a universal nerve in its audience becomes clearly illuminated.

      We as an audience relate to Frankenstein's Monster when it appears he suffers:

      1. Frustration from learning (learning becomes an agent of the Monster's fear and                         rejection)

      2. Loneliness caused by the feeling of being one of a kind

      3. Torment at the hands of bullies and others who take unfair advantage

      4. Alienation by being forced into a world he does not desire

      5. Rejection reaching out to be part of the societal whole

      6. the Awkwardness of being a stranger in an unknown body

      7. abrupt Separation and Rejection at the hands of his "family"

      8. Jealousy at being an inferior/defective copy of more perfect human beings

      Simply stated, the universality of the Frankenstein Monster originates from the simple fact that he is like us at various moments in our lives: disconnected, alienated, frustrated, lonely, rejected, hated, awkward, jealous. Unfortunately, for the Monster, he is doomed to forever exist in this disparate, uncaring, negative abyss.

      First, to illustrate Frustration from Learning, we have the initial appearance of the Monster from Frankenstein as he slowly backs through the door, turns around, and then we see a closeup of the Monster's face--dead half-closed eyes and stiff movements as it catatonically obeys commands. Sitting in a chair, the skylight opened, the Monster rises and looks upward, rising its bare arms skyward to grasp for the warming light. When the light source is turned off, the Monster thrusts its arms out pleadingly toward Henry.

      "And now for our lesson," the blind Hermit intones from Bride of Frankenstein . In this very humorous yet warm sequence, the Monster learns the fundamentals of speech, what bread is, how wine is "good," how to shake the hand of a friend, why wood is good for the fire, and that even fire can be good (having already learned fear of fire at the end of a burning torch and at the hands of the villagers in Frankenstein ). The Hermit states, "There is good and there is bad." However, the lesson abruptly ends when the Monster is taught fear and rejection when two lost, intruding woodsmen (one of them John Carradine) abruptly invade the Hermit's cabin, see the Monster, are startled, and in the ensuing shuffle burn the cabin down. The Monster learns that there is good and bad, but unfortunately for him, bad always seems to be the end result of all his lessons.

      Second, to represent Loneliness Caused by the Feeling of Being One of a Kind, we are reminded of the conclusion of Frankenstein when the Monster, trapped in the burning windmill, screams and wails like a cornered animal, never understanding fully why its actions resulted in so much scorn. As the Monster panics, trying to evade the flames and crumbling beams of wood, he ultimately becomes pinned under a falling timber, moaning in pain. Here we see a creation, who never asked to be born, cruelly hunted down and savagely slaughtered in such a way that if he were an animal, the mistreatment would surely be protested by today's animal rights groups.

      Similarly, at the beginning of Bride of Frankenstein , with Maria's parents searching the burned out mill for evidence of the Monster's bones, Hans falls through the weakened flooring to the flooded area below. There the Monster stirs, having survived the flaming inferno, and he savagely attacks and drowns Hans. Hans' wife, thinking she is extending her hand to her husband, instead gives a leg-up to the Monster. As she screams, he throws her, like a ragdoll, to her death. Interestingly, the Monster's extended arm and hand are mistaken by Hans' wife as the beloved arm of her husband, and only when she sees the full form of the Monster does she panic and scream. In other words, the Monster is almost human enough to be mistaken for the real thing, but once recognized, he is seen as the Grendel in a society of Beowulfs and is made the outcast simply because of his size and ugly countenance.

      Symbolically, the sequence that best drives home the point of the loneliness of the Monster is the wonderfully symbolic sequence from Bride of Frankenstein when the Monster roams the foggy graveyard, stumbing past various statues and gravemarkers, savagely knocking over one such marker leading to the crypt below. There he eyes the coffin of his bride-to-be. Such a sequence illustrates the Monster's recognition of himself as a creature separate from living human beings; he sees himself as a creature of the night, of the graveyard, of the dead. Sadly, all his peers, like himself, are dead, but they are motionless and uncommunicative. He, also dead, lives and has the ability to express his loneliness as a solitary member of his kind.

      Third, to portray his Torment at the Hands of Bullies and Others who take Unfair Advantage from Frankenstein , we have the jealous and twisted assistant Fritz, who tortures the Monster with his snapping whip and cruel-tempered flaming torch. The Monster, when confronted with such torture, yelps and moans, tries to escape and hide, and even Henry orders Fritz "to leave it alone," but the sadistic assistant only continues his torment until the Monster ultimately slays his tormentor.

      In an obvious copy of this sequence, Bride of Frankenstein features a quick, unmotivated parallel sequence again with the Monster and Dwight Frye (now as Karl) atop the watchtower. Outside as the storm rages, Karl torments the Monster with his fiery torch, but the Monster quickly grabs him and throws him screaming off the side of the tower.

      Finally, in Bride of Frankenstein , the Monster is chased by the village mob (formed by the fatherly Burgomaster) through the woods, up rocky hills, where he tries to hide from the hunting dogs in hot pursuit. Soon he is captured by the mob, who pelt him with thrown objects, tie him to a long log in a obvious Christ crucifixion stance, and thrust him into a hay-lined horse drawn cart, a pitchfork holding his head motionless. Returning to town, he is cruelly carried downward to an underground dungeon where he is chained to a huge wooden chair that reduces his motion to twitches and blinks.

      Fourth, to observe the Monster's Alienation Being Forced into a World It Does Not Desire, we only have to look again at the initial Monster sequence from Frankenstein , Karloff enters the room backwards, soon to be exposed to the bright rays of light; he moves so tentatively that the performance draws strength from the simple fact that we are observing a terrified creature who does not feel part of the environment into which he has been thrown. His gaunt features, emphasizing his elongated arms, dead eyes, and stiff motion, make the audience terribly aware that this creature does not belong in our world and does not wish to be here.

      Later, when the Monster lies supine on the surgical table, awaiting dissection at the hands of eminent Dr. Waldman, Karloff has been robbed of all his humanity, now he is simply a specimen awaiting to be disassembled, appendage by appendage, organ by organ, at the hands of science. Truly, the Monster has been reduced to the level of a failed experiment, the evidence of which is about to be erased without emotion or concern. However, when Waldman leans closer to the extended corpse, the Monster's arm slowly rises behind the unknowing doctor, the hand first grabbing the neck and soon the throat. This experiment refuses to be simply erased!

      The Monster's Alienation can also be seen in the conclusion of Frankenstein , in the old windmill, as Henry tries to flee from the Monster, but the Monster pursues its creator, struggling to subdue his symbolic "father" who no longer has any need for his "son." The Monster, in rage from hatred and anger because he was forced into a world in which he does not belong--a world where even his creator rejects him. The Monster tosses Henry off the side of the windmill, almost certainly to his death. The Monster's face, after he thinks he has "killed" Henry, is panicked and fearful--his face is like that of a child who did something horribly wrong and instantly regrets the action. It is this face the villagers see as they set the windmill ablaze.

      Finally, Bride of Frankenstein'a underground crypt sequence--beginning with the Monster roaming the fog-shrouded graveyard, passing assorted markers--best illustrates the Monster's alienation. Stumbling across Dr. Pretorius' picnic--candles, a skull, food, and wine on a tablecloth covered casket--Pretorius bids the Monster welcome, offering the fiend some wine (in fact Pretorius is the first person to treat the Monster as a human being, with politeness and kindness). "You make man like me?" the Monster asks, but Pretorius answers matter-of-factly, "No, woman... friend for you!" The Monster smiles "I want friend, like me... made me--from dead. I love dead, hate living." To which Pretorius responds, "You're wise in your generation." Sadly, the Monster is now able to verbalize his alienation and realizes that he is one of a kind, an aberration of nature. And his only desire is to have a mate similar to himself. Everyone in the audience can relate to such a simple urge.

      Fifth, Rejection Reaching Out to be Part of the Societal Whole can be witnessed in the Little Maria sequence in Frankenstein when Maria herself is at first rejected by her own father. "Won't you stay and play with me, Father?" "I'm too busy," the soon-to-depart father replies. Emerging from the bushes as soon as her father leaves, Maria introduces herself to the Monster, without an ounce of fear, requesting, "Will you play with me?" Moving to the water's edge, Maria tells the Monster: "You have those [flowers], I'll have these... I can make a boat, see how mine float." The Monster, enthralled, giggles and smiles. It is only when he innocently picks up Maria and throws her into the water, to see how she will float, and she sinks and drowns, that the Monster panics and runs away.

      In a similar idyllic sequence in Bride of Frankenstein , the Monster is roaming a beautiful woods when he comes upon a stream, bends down and drinks. When he sees his own reflection, he uses his hand to cause ripples in the water to break up the image. A beautiful young shepherdess approaches with her sheep, sees the Monster from a bluff overlooking the stream, screams, and falls in. The Monster sympathetically pulls her out, saving her life, but as she revives, she screams "don't touch me" alerting nearby hunters who fire and hit the Monster in the arm. Simply because the Monster is different---bigger and uglier--he is immediately rejected. It seems only Dr. Pretorius is willing to give the Monster the time of day.

      Sixth, to display the Awkwardness of Being a Stranger in an Awkward Body, we turn to the Hermit sequence in Bride of Frankenstein . Smiling when hearing sweet violin music, the Monster at first watches and then bursts in on the Blind Hermit, who warmly greets the Monster. Sensing the Monster is hurt, he immediately sits him down near the warm fire. The Hermit sees the Monster as a gift from God: both are afflicted (one cannot speak, the other cannot see) and are in need of a friend. The Monster's awkward frustrations over trying to grunt out verbal communication, trying to eat from a bowl, struggling to do the simple little tasks that most human beings can perform effortlessly, only shows how the Monster is uncomfortable with its own body.

      The initial sequences in Frankenstein , showing the Monster's slow, stiff movement, the rigidity of using his hands and arms, his hunched-over stance when trying to learn to walk, all equally illustrate the fact that this adult body houses the consciousness of a newborn where every motion and sound emitted displays the awkwardness of being a stranger in a new body.

      Seventh, the Abrupt Separation and Rejection at the Hands of his Family can first be traced in the conclusion of Frankenstein when the search party led by Henry, now working with society against his own creation, scours the hills to track down the Monster. As Henry becomes separated from his own search party, who call out his name, the Monster silently watches Henry come closer. Torch in hand, monster-maker confronts Monster and they, all alone, briefly stare each other down. Quickly the Monster grabs the hated torch and a struggle ensues. The Monster knocks his symbolic father unconscious and drags him off toward the windmill.

      In Bride of Frankenstein the Monster encounters society's tribe of rejects, the Gypsies, who symbolically are as much out of the loop as the Monster. When he tries to raid their campfire in search of some food, he burns his hands, screams out in pain, and is then run off by them. Symbolically, during those times he is surrounded by other rejects, instead of forming a bond together, he is still rejected and becomes an outcast to the outcasts.

      Finding a friend in Dr. Pretorius, the Monster is quick to do his bidding, displaying loyalty to the sole person who seemingly accepts him. In a pivotal sequence when Pretorius is trying to persuade Victor to continue his experiments, of which Victor wants no part, Pretorius brings in the Monster who orders Victor to "sit down" and tells his creator "you must do it." When Henry tells Pretorius he won't discuss the situation while the Monster is present, Pretorius sends the Monster to kidnap Elizabeth to add leverage to his position.

      Later in the laboratory, after Victor agrees to continue his experiments on the promise that Elizabeth is safe and will be returned unharmed when the experiment is finished, the Monster becomes a stern taskmaster, ordering Victor to work nonstop, to never take a break. Only when Pretorius drugs the Monster's drink does Henry get any peace of mind, let alone rest.

      Eighth, the Monster's Jealousy at being an Inferior/Defective Copy of More Perfect Human Beings can be witnessed in Frankenstein in the sequence where Victor locks Elizabeth in the bedroom on their wedding day, for her own protection. Upon first hearing the grunts of the Monster, Elizabeth nervously stalks her bedroom as the audience sees the Monster approach via the back bedroom window. Unknown to Elizabeth, the Monster enters the bedroom and silently stares at her from behind, the audience on the verge of yelling "Turn around you damn fool!" In a highly symbolic shot, the unconscious Elizabeth falls, quite suggestively, sprawled in her bridal gown over the edge of her bed. The Monster leaves and she moans "Don't let it come in here" when she is finally rescued. In other words, Victor has created a flawed pseudo-human being, and the fact that the Monster attacks Victor's bride-to-be on their wedding date suggests that Victor has someone of his own kind to share his life with, but the Monster can only be reminded that he is one of a kind.

      Perhaps the Monster's jealousy can best be illustrated at the conclusion of Bride of Frankenstein when the Monster first meets his intended bride. Unfortunately, the Bride is blatantly attracted to Henry, and clutches and huddles at his side, in obvious fear of the Monster. When the Monster appears, he is smiling with friendly outstretched hands, muttering "friend," in an almost pleading manner. But she screams and hugs Henry. The Monster growls, more in frustration than as a threat, takes the Bride's hand, and gently pats it. But for the second time she screams bloody murder. "She hates me," the Monster declares, "like others." Now realizing that he will always be the rejected one, even by others made just like he was, he clutches that all too obvious lever that will blow them all to atoms. Realizing the importance of love, he allows Henry and Elizabeth to escape--"You go," but to Pretorius he glumly states, "We belong dead!" and as the Bride hisses, the Monster pulls the lever, blowing up the watchtower.

      Four years later, under new management, the "new" Universal inaugurated the second wave of American horror cinema with Son of Frankenstein , a movie that increased the budget for this third Frankenstein production; boosted the star power by adding Basil Rathbone (as son Wolf von Frankenstein), Bela Lugosi (as crippled blacksmith Ygor), and Lionel Atwill (as artificial-armed Inspector Krogh); but relegated Boris Karloff's Frankenstein Monster to bench-warming status (with the exception of a few stellar sequences). The inspired director James Whale is gone, replaced by Rowland V. Lee who rewrote the script daily, the final story bearing little resemblance to Willis C. Cooper's screenplay.

      All the criticisms of the 1940s Frankenstein films' Monsters (portrayed by Lon Chaney, Bela Lugosi, and Glenn Strange), concerning the Monster's character-less automaton function, originated in this production. True, unlike the later productions whereby the comatose creature is reactivated to die only minutes later, Karloff does spend the second half of the film in an animated state, but significant appearances are few and far between.

      Reduced to a sideshow attraction in his own movie, Karloff's Monster is formulaic and less artistically rendered making the New Universal production appear more like product in a successful franchise. The father/son relationship (and even the triangle) continues with Wolf being cast as the son of Henry, but Wolf is described by Ygor as being the "brother" to the Monster, apparently referring to the fact that both are sons of Frankenstein. Ygor becomes the third wheel in the relationship between Monster and monster-reviver (Wolf) because Ygor wants to control the Monster and is jealous of the power that Wolf has over his reanimated creation. In another sense, the ever-protective Inspector Krogh becomes the father figure to Wolf, ensuring that the irate villagers do not commit acts of violence against the survivor to the house of Frankenstein that they hate so much. So much for symbolic subtlety.

      The Monster's early sequences are artistic dead weight, with the hulking fiend's inanimate state of consciousness presenting the feared Monster as a comatose lump. The first significant sequence with the Monster occurs in the lab where the Monster first places its hand on Wolf's shoulder and then rubs its maker's face. The Monster registers a confused expression, but when he examines his own features in the large laboratory mirror and looks at the handsome Wolf, the audience can readily see that once again the Monster is noticing its own deficiencies. The Monster is repulsed by his features, he growls and holds his pleading outstretched arms toward Wolf. This revisits the theme of the Monster's Loneliness caused by the Feeling of Being One of a Kind.

      But even the Monster's murder sequences, as he is used by Ygor to kill two of the jurors who sentenced him to hang, are pedestrian at best. In the first sequence the Monster is seen slowly moving among the misty rocks lying beyond the road. The Monster's body extends onto the roadway hanging on to a tree as his victim rides by. The fiend grabs the victim by the neck and places his unconscious body under the wheels of his own cart, crushing the poor man's legs and chest. In the second murder sequence, the Monster, seen as a black silhouette, approaches his seated victim from behind and suddenly bangs the man on the head, apparently killing him instantly.

      The next significant sequence featuring the Monster occurs after Wolf has shot Ygor (who tried to attack the doctor with a hammer) to death. Alone in the lab, the Monster quietly approaches the fallen Ygor, slowly climbing the laboratory steps to find his friend. The Monster falls to his knees and huddles over the body of Ygor, prodding the corpse with his hands. The Monster sobs and moans as he realizes the fate of the blacksmith. Seeing blood on his one hand, the Monster screams out in pain, his heart broken, and he glumly carries the body back to Ygor's bedroom and deposits the corpse on the bed. With a sad face and watery eyes, the Monster screams one more time and storms out in anger. (Shades of the Abrupt Separation and Rejection at the Hands of his Family.) Returning to the lab, the fiend has a temper tantrum and throws expensive equipment into the sulfur pit below. Suddenly finding a book of fairy tales (belonging to Wolf's son Peter), the Monster smiles as his mind hatches a new plan.

      In the Monster's final important sequence, he sneaks via back passageways into sleeping Peter's bedroom, his sudden appearance causing the housekeeper to faint. In a tender visual sequence, the huge Monster leads the innocent Peter by the hand up toward the laboratory, revenge the obvious reason for the kidnapping. (Here the theme of feeling Jealousy for Being an Inferior/Defective Copy of more Perfect Human Beings can be witnessed.) However, the Monster is so kind, gentle, and nurturing, that the one sequence where the Monster momentarily considers throwing the baby into the sulfur pit instead of lifting him up the ladder is the only lingering indication that the Monster intends to do harm to the child. The child, once up the ladder, extends his own hand to help the Monster up. Even after Inspector Krogh enters the lab with his men, guns blazing, his artificial arm ripped off by the Monster, the creature gently holds the child wedged underneath his one foot as Wolf swings down from above, knocking the Monster into the sulfur pit to his scalding death.

      Karloff, unhappy that the Monster spoke in Bride of Frankenstein , demanded that the Monster be returned to his former mute status, but where the Monster came to vivid, stark life in the original 1931 production, here, in Son , Karloff is mostly reduced to lumbering loafer status. A few sequences remind us of the greatness of his former performances, but generally, because of insensitive direction and lack of a well formulated script, Karloff becomes the very one-dimensional Monster he feared the role had degenerated into during the production of Bride of Frankenstein .

      Boris Karloff's Frankenstein Monster has touched a common nerve with seven generations of movie fans because he represents so many things to so many people. Simply put, he becomes Everyone. His relationship to his creator represents the poor, pathetic victim in a typically dysfunctional family. His isolation, loneliness, and lack of love ring true with all of us at one time or another. His awkwardness, the sense that the Monster is a stranger to his own body, appeals to the lifelong adolescent in all of us, for all of us have felt self-conscious of our own body at various points in our life. All of us, because we all have crosses to bear, have felt anger, frustration, and rage, psychologically if not physically, and have wanted to mindlessly strike out simply to express our too-long suppressed feelings. And Frankenstein's Monster represents that defective, flawed human being residing in all of us. Who hasn't felt abandoned, mistreated, unloved, abused, ugly, lonely at some point in our lives? And the Monster reminds us that even he can be sympathetic, misunderstood, and finally worthy of receiving love. No other Universal Monster quite represents such appeal, and it is this immediate human connection that makes Karloff's Frankenstein Monster a mirror image of how so many of us really perceive ourselves.

      When Hollywood was selling the concept that any member of the audience could be John Wayne, Clark Gable, or Cary Grant, the audience always realized the truth: most of us felt more closely assigned with Frankenstein's Monster. There's a symbol for the human condition that stands the test of time!