Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein doesn’t just adapt Mary Shelley’s masterpiece—it quietly revolutionizes it. Here’s the twist most adaptations miss: while staying faithful to the novel’s gothic romance and themes of creation, del Toro sneaks in a meta moment so subtle, you might blink and miss it. But trust me, it’s genius. And this is the part most people miss... Amidst the Creature’s (Jacob Elordi) journey, there’s a scene where he befriends a blind patriarch on a farm, who teaches him to read. What does he read? Percy Shelley’s Ozymandias—a poem written by Mary Shelley’s *actual husband. Yes, you read that right. Del Toro doesn’t just break the fourth wall; he *blurs the line between fiction and reality in a way that feels both daring and deeply intentional.
But here’s where it gets controversial: Is this a clever nod to the story’s history, or does it risk distracting from the narrative? Some might argue it’s a stretch, but the poem’s themes of hubris and the fall of greatness mirror Victor Frankenstein’s (Oscar Isaac) tragic ego perfectly. Ozymandias was published just 10 days after Frankenstein in 1818, and del Toro uses this real-world connection to amplify the film’s critique of unchecked ambition. It’s a bold move, but does it work? Is it too meta, or just meta enough?
For context, Ozymandias describes a crumbling statue of an Egyptian pharaoh, whose inscription boasts, ‘Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’ Yet, all around lies ruin—a stark reminder of mortality and the folly of pride. Sound familiar? It’s the same tragedy Victor Frankenstein orchestrates. Del Toro’s choice isn’t just a literary Easter egg; it’s a mirror held up to the story’s core. And if you’re thinking, ‘Wait, isn’t this a bit paradoxical?’—yes, it is. But that’s the fun of breaking the fourth wall. It’s a wink to the audience, a reminder that this tale has lived in our collective imagination for over 200 years, inspiring countless adaptations, comics, games, and even a Breaking Bad episode (yes, that Ozymandias).
So, here’s the question: Does del Toro’s meta moment elevate the story, or does it pull you out of it? Let’s debate it in the comments. Because whether you love it or hate it, one thing’s clear—this Frankenstein isn’t just an adaptation. It’s a conversation starter.
