The Bride! ★★★

The Bride! is a reclamation. Opening with text hyping up the creation of the novel Frankenstein by Mary Shelley as being done “on a dare,” writer and director Maggie Gyllenhaal boldly steps into the supernatural. Mary Shelley (Jessie Buckley) appears on-screen in close-up, writhing about and emerging from the undead. Declaring that she has a story to tell, one that has kept her soul awake and unsettled, she zeroes in on Ida (Buckley) in 1936 Chicago. Mary intends to “possess” Ida as a means of getting her story out, a way to speak from beyond the grave and to tell this tale. Gyllenhaal’s film is complicated, messy, and chaotic. It has numerous plot threads and while its overarching intentions are clear, it would be apt to say it is not all successful. Nevertheless, The Bride! is never dull. A formally fascinating cinematic experience with many layers and impulses, The Bride! demands to be reckoned with.

The Bride! is many things. First and foremost, it stands as a story of agency. In a meta-sense, the classic film The Bride of Frankenstein emerged from Shelley’s text but is not canon. Frankenstein’s monster in the novel does seek for Victor Frankenstein to create a woman for him, but she is not referred to as a “bride” nor is her creation finalized. Yet, Hollywood spun Shelley’s story into a sequel and countless adaptations over the years. The framing device of following this spiritual Shelley is a way of giving her this story back and if it must be told, then let her tell it in her own way. Beyond this, Mary Shelley’s original novel was even published under her husband Percy’s name – a fact mentioned in The Bride! – with this prejudice echoed in the characterization of Dr. Cornelia Euphronious (Annette Bening) who publishes research under “C. Euphronious” and is assumed to be a man by “Frank” (Christian Bale) when he first makes her acquaintance. Rather than Victor Frankenstein, it is Dr. Euphornious who will prove vital in this reclaimed tale. In the decades since Frank was created by Victor, he has wandered alone and as in the novel, seeks to have a woman created for him. She is to be his “bride” and he wants Dr. Euphronious, who is referred to as an expert in “reinvigoration,” to grant him this desire.

Ida, as implied in being the center of Shelley’s narration, is to be this bride. As Mary possesses her body, Ida convulses about. Buckley is fully in-tune with Gyllenhaal’s freak at every turn and while it is an abrasive, chaotic, and truly wild performance, it is hard not to be impressed by her level of commitment to fulfilling every facet of her dual roles. Buckley gives herself over to the material entirely. This possession scene sets the tone on this front, while also tipping some of The Bride!’s additional thematic focus. As she contorts and flips about at a bar, Ida launches accusations of violence against gangster Lupino (Zlatko Burić). She accuses him of murdering women and cutting their tongues out as retribution for them informing on him to the police (an act that is a very visceral stripping of voice and agency). With a look and a quick acknowledgment, Lupino has his henchmen Clyde (John Magaro) and James (Matthew Maher) murder Ida. Frank and Dr. Euphronious will soon find her mangled corpse in a pauper’s grave, bring her back to Euhpronious’s lab, and reinvigorate her to life. She, of course, has no say. But, her story must continue and like Shelley’s story, if it must continue then it will continue her way. Possessed by Shelley, Ida is buzzing with a “brain attack” of an idea: a revolution against men like Lupino and those who either commit acts of violence against women or otherwise propagate a system of injustice against women through their silent acquiescence.

The Bride! wears its thematic heart on its sleeve, infusing this ideology into every facet of its structure. Wherever Frank and Ida go, violence follows. It is not long before Chicago detective Jake Wiles (Peter Sarsgaard) and his secretary Myrna Malloy (Penélope Cruz) are hot on their trail. Of course, Jake has his own ills (he initially denies Myrna a deserved promotion and is corrupt) and Myrna is actually the brains of the investigation, leading the duo on the right track at every turn. Jake is given some interesting nuance as a man who recognizes Myrna’s equality, but he is also content to utilize social injustice to his benefit while not shying away from exploitation of those he is charged with protecting. The Bride! is a monster movie, after all, and like Shelley’s novel the “monsters” are not who one expects at first blush. In the classic tradition of Shelley’s novel, monsters are not the undead creatures sparked back into life through mad science. The monsters here are the corrupt powers that be, the ones who prop up this patriarchal system that exploits and violates women, stripping them of power, voice, and agency. It is mostly men. Men like Lupino, Clyde, and James who commit horrible acts of violence. Men like Jake who look the other way. Men who try to attack Ida in the streets and cops like Officer Goodman (Louis Cancelmi) who utilize their position to prey on women. Even Frank is not immune, transgressing in ways like lying to Ida – who has no recollection of her life before being killed – about her name and their relationship before her alleged “accident.” Ida and Frank’s Bonnie and Clyde-esque escapades give Ida a platform, one where she speaks for the dead, ignites a cultural revolution, and gives back power to the women silenced by Lupino and others like him.

The Bride! is undoubtedly messy. Between following Ida and Frank, their wider cultural influence, Shelley’s continued presence as a supernatural narrator, the pursuit led by Jake and Myrna, the push back from Lupino and his henchmen, and more, Gyllenhaal bites off a lot. It is focused thematically, but narratively jarring and scattered. These disparate points make for a captivating whole, but also often feel cut-and-paste from different films then spliced into this one. This jagged narrative does The Bride! no service in rendering some of its thematic machinations rather undercooked, some of its characters underdeveloped, and many plot threads left dangling in the wind. Yet, I was captivated by what Gyllenhaal is doing here. The Bride! is entertaining, while positively nightmarish. Given its framing device, it is no shock that this story feels like a half-remembered nightmare, scratching at the surface of consciousness and coming back into focus in drips and murky details. Scattered as it may be and as stretched thin as it is, The Bride! manages to be bold and exciting, an inspired feminist reclamation of an oft-told tale.

Gyllenhaal, as an actor herself, gives way to artistic indulgences at every turn. Every actor here is a bit of a mixed bag, but doing fascinating work and taking every impulse they have for their respective characters and following them to their natural ends. Buckley, as noted, is absolutely bonkers. Her Ida is wild. Her Mary Shelley is even wilder, taking on a truly supernatural aura (the black-and-white lighting and glow is a great touch for Shelley’s scenes, while the final scene is hilarious). Christian Bale plays this sad and lonely Frankenstein, a lover of cinema (the artistic flourishes of Frank’s visions of himself dancing next to his icon, musical star of the 1930s Ronnie Reed (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a great touch, expressing the gentle soul of this character in contrast to his startling appearance) and a man who just wants connection and to not be rejected. Peter Sarsgaard is reliable as ever, while Penélope Cruz may be an unconventional choice for a 1930s Chicago cop, but she brings class and cunning to the role. Annette Bening is as fun as Buckley here in her own way, really leaning into the cheesy demands of this professor to rewarding results.

Cinematographer Lawrence Sher is given plenty of lee-way to help create the visual texture of The Bride!, giving it a dream-like glow as Frank and Ida tear across the countryside, but every section of the story feels and looks different thanks to Sher’s work. His lighting and framing takes full advantage of the stunning choreography of a dance hall number led by Ida, while the exuberant camera movements and stylistic flair in a dance after a party for Ronnie Reed is upstaged by Frank and Ida’s arrival gives The Bride! a raucous energy that is breathtaking to behold. It is elements such as these, combined with the always interesting work done by its cast, and Gyllenhaal’s refusal to play anything down-the-middle, never conforming to convention in any facet of The Bride! that makes this an irresistible experience. Possessing considerable ambition thematically and narratively, The Bride! dares audiences to reject it and to not engage with its often abrasive, scattered, and indulgent approach. It is easy to see why it has been met with such a divisive reception, but for those willing to embrace its wild vision, The Bride! is a cinematic experience like few others.