Fifty Before '50: Edison's FRANKENSTEIN (1910)

 by JB

I love libraries. And Frankensteins.

I have warm and fuzzy memories of both the Bellwood Library and the Arlington Heights Memorial Library from my largely misspent youth. A building full of books you could just borrow for free? Sign me up... and be still my little (black) literate heart!

I especially remember a series of children’s books devoted to classic monster films published by Crestwood House in the 1970s. They all had distinctive bright orange covers. I checked them out of the library, but I have since learned they were also offered as classroom sets with teachers' guides, posters, and the books read aloud on cassette tape. I believe this is where I first encountered a picture of the monster from the 1910 Edison production of Frankenstein. However, it could have been in the pages of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, which I became addicted to the 1970s. Where were my parents?

The film was thought lost until collector Alois Dettlaff bought a copy in the 1950s from his mother-in-law, who was also a collector. At first, he did not realize its rarity. Somewhat deteriorated, the film was still in viewable condition, but Dettlaff still had a 35mm preservation copy made in the Seventies. Much later, he authorized a DVD release of 1,000 numbered copies. Decades later, in recognition of Mary Shelly's bicentennial, the Library of Congress completed a restoration of the film, having purchased the Dettlaff collection in 2014. This restoration was made available for streaming and downloading in late 2018. Now, it is all over YouTube like a rash. Tasty.

You can watch the Library of Congress restoration here:

At the 45 second mark, we are told via title card that Frankenstein leaves for medical school, then “Two years later Frankenstein has discovered the mystery of life,” to which some anonymous wag in the comments section exclaimed, “That must be SOME SCHOOL.”

I am still impressed by the creation scene (2:30 – 5:15) in which primitive special effects are brought to bear on a sequence that would become a highlight or a disappointment in every other version ever made. Here, director J. Searle Dawley chose to build an articulated doll of the monster, set it ablaze, then reverse the film. Thus, the creature starts as an unrecognizable mass, then gets slowly built up in form and features, its wildly swinging “muppet arms” creating the illusion of life. I would love to have seen this in 1910... and seen the original audience’s reaction.

I’m also impressed by an early scene (5:30) in which Frankenstein is overcome with guilt over his creation. He faints on his bed, and his creature appears from behind some curtains right above him. The visualization of the scene seems to copy Henry Fuseli’s famous painting “The Nightmare,” or am I just seeing things and getting all pretentious again?

But it is the image of the monster... Charles Ogle as Dr. Frankenstein’s creation... that still fascinates. Who dreamed up this makeup and costume? Ogle himself? Theatrical tradition at that time assumed that most stage actors did their own makeup. You will admit the monster would never look like that again. Ogle’s monster is weird and memorable, but bears no relationship whatsoever to the monster described in Mary Shelly’s novel.

Yes, this film is very old-fashioned and quaint. I'll give you three compelling reasons you should watch it:

1. It was FIRST. These filmmakers had nothing else to guide them, or to get in their way. Film was completely unchartered territory, a new medium with amazing potential and possibility. Dawley and his crew were running on pure inspiration, and that's fascinating. In the words of film critic Kim Newman, “Of course, the first version of anything is by default influential and important; a hundred and [fifteen] years on, this is fascinating because it’s a Frankenstein.

2. Like many films of this era (ERA), the 1910 Frankenstein sets itself an impossible task: adapting a some 200-page novel into a 15-minute film. (In the years that followed, Dawley helmed similar, digest-sized adaptations of The House of the Seven Gables, A Christmas Carol, Aida, The Corsican Brothers, and Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Given this challenge, the filmmakers here do a pretty good job. It contains not only the major incidents, but the "gist" of the book: even the best intentions can be waylaid by ego and playing God has consequences. Minor quibble: I would have loved to have seen how Dawley et al would have summarized the novel's polar climax in 30 seconds or less.

3. We are looking at a film that owes more to stage conventions than to film conventions... because film conventions had NOT YET BEEN INVENTED. With the exception of the creation scene, there is nothing in this film that can't be done on stage. I find these glimpses into turn-of-the-century stage convention fascinating. It gives us all a chance to sit in a theater in 1910 and see what live drama may have looked like; it also serves to remind us how far modern film has come.

4. BONUS REASON: It's about 12 minutes long. You have 12 minutes to edumacate yourself on film history, don't you? Otherwise... why are you here?

Pretty good for a kid from Michigan: the electric light, the phonograph, moving pictures, and a cool monster to boot. Not too shabby, Thomas, not too shabby.