Guillermo del Toro has always been drawn to monsters, but never for mere spectacle. In every film from Pan’s Labyrinth to Crimson Peak, he finds poetry in the grotesque and humanity within horror.
His long-anticipated adaptation of Frankenstein, set to release on Netflix this November, feels like the natural summation of that lifelong fascination.
Based on Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel, Frankenstein has inspired countless interpretations over the past two centuries. Yet none has been so profoundly personal to a storyteller as this one appears to be for del Toro.
The director has been nurturing this project for over a decade, calling it his “dream film.” With an official trailer now released, fans and critics alike are calling it the centerpiece of his career, a culmination of themes he’s been shaping across his entire body of work.
The trailer begins with haunting restraint. Sparse piano keys echo through cold, dimly lit laboratories. The creature, voiced and played by Jacob Elordi, narrates the opening lines.
His voice trembles with anguish as he reflects on rejection not only from his creator but from the world itself. Across ominous landscapes and stark candlelight, del Toro’s meticulous attention to emotion and atmosphere fills every frame.
Oscar Isaac stars as the brilliant yet self-destructive Victor Frankenstein, a man whose pursuit of godlike creation turns into moral ruin. Opposite him, Elordi embodies the creature as both tragic and menacing, a being who longs for understanding yet becomes defined by the cruelty of the world that shuns him.
Supporting roles by Mia Goth, Ralph Ineson, Charles Dance, and Christoph Waltz round out the ensemble, giving the production a sense of grandeur befitting its Gothic origins.
The Trailer Hints at a Gothic Masterpiece
The newly released trailer gives audiences an extended look at del Toro’s interpretive style, one that honors Shelley’s classic tale while amplifying its emotional resonance through visual storytelling.
Early viewers describe the trailer as a symphony of dread and empathy, capturing the simultaneous horror and beauty that define the novel.
What stands out first is the atmosphere. Every frame is drenched in cold blues, grays, and golds that evoke both life and decay.
The lighting recalls the chiaroscuro of Renaissance paintings, a nod to the film’s contemplation of creation and artifice. From ice-coated terrains to candle-lit European mansions, Frankenstein appears both intimate and operatic.
The trailer also confirms that del Toro has chosen to focus deeply on the relationship between creator and creation.
His version redefines Frankenstein as not merely a tale of ambition punished but as a layered reflection on family, responsibility, and isolation. Netflix’s official post describes it as “a father and son story,” and that theme runs visibly throughout the footage.
The monster, who speaks with pained eloquence, narrates in fragments: “He made me from dreams and graves… and forgot my name.” This narration steers the movie away from simple horror and toward elegy.
Del Toro’s Frankenstein seems less interested in fright and more in tragedy the undoing of two beings bound by betrayal and devotion.
The musical score that accompanies the trailer swells from minimal piano notes to sweeping orchestral movements, hinting at a theatrical emotional arc.
Viewers see glimpses of grand experiments, frozen Arctic wastelands, and haunted gazes that communicate guilt, loneliness, and longing. Every image seems crafted to echo del Toro’s belief that monsters are mirrors reflecting the alienation of humanity itself.
Critics who attended the Venice International Film Festival premiere described extended applause and near-universal praise, with many calling it del Toro’s finest work since The Shape of Water.
The film currently holds an 80% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, indicating a strong critical reception ahead of its wider release. For Netflix, this could become its prestige release of the year, dominating the Halloween season and possibly extending into awards contention.
The Director’s Vision: Beauty in the Macabre
Few directors can claim to have built such a cohesive thematic universe as Guillermo del Toro. Across his career, his fascination with flawed creators and misunderstood beings has served as a form of emotional autobiography. Frankenstein takes that artistic relationship full circle.
Del Toro’s films often ask the same moral question: Who deserves compassion, the human or the monster? In Frankenstein, this question becomes literal.
Frankenstein (Credit: Netflix)
By stripping away caricature and returning the creature’s voice, del Toro restores the emotional depth Mary Shelley originally envisioned. This isn’t a lumbering beast but a sentient soul abandoned by his maker and crushed by a society incapable of empathy.
Visually, the trailer offers evidence of del Toro’s obsession with detail. Costumes appear opulent yet decayed, suggesting wealth corroded by guilt. Every set feels tactile: the iron laboratories, the snow-streaked wilderness, the flicker of candlelight across ruined portraits.
The director’s signature blending of the fantastical with the physical remains intact, but there’s new emotional maturity here.
Oscar Isaac captures Frankenstein’s inner torment with restraint. His Victor appears equal parts visionary and prisoner, consumed by remorse as his creation surpasses him in moral awareness.
Elordi, best known for Saltburn and Euphoria, disappears entirely into the creature’s pale, scarred figure. His physicality seems more human than monstrous, communicating layers of fear, rage, and sadness.
Early reviews also highlight Mia Goth, whose collaboration with del Toro cements her growing reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s most fearless actors. She plays a confidante of Frankenstein, an observer of his downfall, and one of the few voices of compassion in a story otherwise ruled by pride and punishment.
Her delicate performance is said to balance the film’s larger-than-life intensity with fleeting warmth.
Del Toro’s decision to lean away from modern digital gloss in favor of practical lighting and minimal CGI creates a world that feels eerily authentic. Every shadow moves with intent.
The film’s attention to physical textures, snow, fabric, blood, and flame grounds its fantasy elements in tangible sorrow. This approach mirrors what made Pan’s Labyrinth timeless: a sense that dreams and nightmares share the same air we breathe.
A Creation Worth Waiting For
For decades, filmmakers have attempted to reinvent Frankenstein, but few with the emotional conviction del Toro brings. Instead of reinventing for spectacle, he reclaims it as a moral fable.
By merging Gothic artistry with raw psychological weight, he transforms Shelley’s text into a tale for modern times, a confrontation between human arrogance and the need for compassion.
The timing of its release could not be better. Frankenstein arrives as audiences crave stories that blend horror with meaning, terror with poetry.
Netflix hopes it will resonate beyond Halloween, attracting both genre enthusiasts and cinephiles. Everything about the marketing suggests an event film, yet one born of personal artistry rather than commerce.
Academy speculation has already started. Given del Toro’s history with The Shape of Water, industry watchers predict nominations in Production Design, Costume Design, and possibly Best Director.
But for audiences, awards matter less than what the film represents: a culmination of one director’s lifelong conversation with monstrosity, love, and loss.
Frankenstein by Guillermo del Toro looks set to become more than another adaptation. It feels like the fulfillment of an artist’s long-standing promise to make monsters human again, and in doing so, remind humanity of its flaws.
If the trailer is any indication, this will be a film remembered not for its terror but for its tenderness amid terror.
It’s been five years since Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man terrified audiences and redefined psychological horror for a new era. When it hit theaters in early 2020, Elisabeth Moss’s intense portrayal of Cecilia Kass a woman trapped by trauma and hunted by an unseen presence, earned widespread acclaim.
The film was hailed as a socially conscious masterpiece that blended cutting-edge suspense with themes of control, isolation, and empowerment.
Now, Moss has spoken publicly about the much-anticipated sequel, The Invisible Man 2, offering a glimmer of hope for fans who have been waiting since the first film’s release.
During a recent interview, the actress revealed that while there’s still no official production update, work on the project is ongoing. “We still want one,” Moss said, “so we’re still working on it.”
Her comment confirms what many had speculated: Universal Pictures and Blumhouse Productions haven’t abandoned the idea entirely. But according to Moss, the creative team refuses to compromise quality for speed.
“We could have easily just churned out a sequel,” she explained, noting that it would have been profitable to rush one out soon after the 2020 film made its box office splash.
“But we want it to be right,” she added. That cautious attitude might be the very reason fans still trust that the end product, whenever it comes, will be worth the wait.
Why The First Invisible Man Changed Hollywood Horror
The original The Invisible Man wasn’t just another studio horror remake; it reshaped the way audiences perceive thrillers rooted in psychological tension. Written and directed by Leigh Whannell, best known for Upgrade and Insidious: Chapter 3, the 2020 release was distinct in its approach.
Rather than leaning into old-fashioned monster tropes, Whannell reimagined the famous story from a female perspective, turning an abusive relationship into the claustrophobic engine of suspense.
Moss carried the film with an intensity that made her character both fragile and fearless. Cecilia’s journey from victimhood to survival was steeped in emotional realism that critics praised as “devastatingly human.”
Against its modest budget, the film became one of the year’s biggest financial surprises, earning over $140 million worldwide before pandemic shutdowns halted the box office across the globe.
Given that success, it’s no wonder fans expected a quick green light for a sequel. Yet, as Moss highlighted, Universal’s restraint might actually protect the franchise’s integrity.
The first film ended on a note that felt startlingly complete, Cecilia gaining her freedom while leaving lingering ambiguity about morality and revenge. For many viewers, that conclusion felt powerful enough to stand alone. For others, however, it hinted at uncharted psychological and moral consequences worth addressing.
Director Leigh Whannell has publicly expressed some hesitation about returning to helm a sequel, saying he was “content” with the film’s ending. His commitment to originality may explain the long delay.
Inside Elisabeth Moss’s Carefully Considered Approach to Sequels
Moss has earned recognition not only for her performances but also for her thoughtful career choices. Known for Mad Men, The Handmaid’s Tale, and Shining Girls, she consistently gravitates toward roles that deal with trauma, power, and resistance.
Her return to The Invisible Man franchise is fully in line with her artistic sensibilities.
The Invisible Man 2 (Credit: Blumhouse)
“I love the movie so much,” Moss said in the interview, emphasizing how deeply connected she and the creative team remain to the material. “If we’re going to do a sequel, it has to be as good or better.”
That dedication reflects an important philosophical shift in how female-led thrillers are being crafted. Rather than rushing out quick follow-ups, there’s a push toward meaningful continuity that honors character development and emotional truth.
The actress also credited both Universal and producer Jason Blum for prioritizing standards over profits: “Universal and Blum could have easily just released something quickly on streaming, but they didn’t.
They’re making sure it’s worth doing.” Her remarks underscore a rare alignment between actor, producer, and studio, an effort to preserve what made The Invisible Man extraordinary in the first place.
That sense of integrity has become Moss’s hallmark. She isn’t just a performer but an active, creative voice in shaping the tone and authenticity of her projects.
Her influence on how The Invisible Man 2 is developed ensures that the film won’t simply recycle scares. Instead, it’s likely to push the psychological depth of the story even further, possibly focusing on Cecilia’s process of healing, trust, and re-emergence from invisible control.
The Challenges Behind Developing a Sequel That Matters
Creating a follow-up to such a self-contained thriller is no easy feat. Leigh Whannell’s original script gave The Invisible Man a strong sense of closure. Any sequel would need to justify its existence beyond nostalgia or box office appeal. Moss’s latest update hints that this very challenge is what’s kept the project in slow development.
The COVID-19 pandemic also disrupted Hollywood’s production schedules for years, pausing countless projects. When theaters closed shortly after The Invisible Man’s release, Universal’s strategy shifted heavily toward streaming partnerships.
While other studios rushed to replicate successful formulas, Whannell’s film retained a prestige reputation, making it too valuable to dilute.
Moreover, by 2025, audience expectations for horror will have changed again. Psychological thrillers now compete with high-concept series and even prestige sci-fi projects for attention. For The Invisible Man 2 to stand out, it must evolve both technically and thematically.
That means finding a balance between the franchise’s haunting minimalism and a new narrative that honors the emotional aftermath of Cecilia’s trauma.
If and when production finally moves forward, it’s likely the sequel will lean into what made the first film unforgettable: tension built from silence, gaslighting as horror, and the blurred lines between survivor and aggressor.
With Moss returning, audiences can expect another layered performance attuned to emotional realism rather than spectacle.
Why Fans Are Content to Wait
While she couldn’t confirm any concrete updates on production or casting, her statement that “we’re still working on it” confirms progress behind the scenes.
Industry observers believe that The Invisible Man 2 could start developing momentum once Whannell finishes his current commitments, possibly reuniting the original team. Blumhouse has a strong track record for reviving successful concepts with artistic backing, as seen in Halloween and The Black Phone.
Ultimately, what makes The Invisible Man endure is its emotional core: a woman reclaiming agency from an unseen oppressor. That story, more than any special effect, is what audiences connected to.
Moss’s careful stewardship of that legacy suggests that whenever the sequel arrives, it won’t merely repeat its predecessor; it will grow from it.
As of now, there’s no release date, no confirmed script, and no director announcement. But there is one thing fans can count on: Elisabeth Moss and her team won’t settle for anything less than extraordinary. Sometimes waiting is the price of getting it right.
