Film Review: The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958)

In the horror cinema, the problem of resurrecting a seemingly deceased franchise icon is a familiar one. In 1931, Universal’s classic Frankenstein concluded with the Monster apparently perishing in a burning windmill, only for the studio to devise an ingenious—if contrived—escape for his return in 1935’s The Bride of Frankenstein . Two and a half decades later, Britain’s Hammer Film Productions faced a remarkably similar narrative quandary. Their 1957 smash hit, The Curse of Frankenstein had concluded with its ruthlessly ambitious protagonist, Baron Victor Frankenstein Peter Cushing , awaiting execution for murder, his fantastical tale of creation dismissed as the ravings of a madman. For Hammer, the commercial imperative for a sequel was clear, but the creative challenge was how to plausibly spring the Baron from the guillotine. The resulting film, 1958’s The Revenge of Frankenstein ,…

The Revenge of Frankenstein opens with titles placing the action in 1860, immediately establishing a curious retcon. Where the first film’s epilogue suggested Frankenstein’s story was disbelieved, here we are told his exploits and the existence of his Monster have become a source of Europe-wide infamy. The Baron’s execution is a public event met with a sigh of relief. Yet, as the blade falls, it is not Frankenstein who is decapitated but a complicit priest Alex Gallier , in a plan orchestrated by the Baron’s hunchbacked servant, Karl Oscar Quitak . The escape is executed with a swift, almost perfunctory efficiency that prioritises getting the plot moving over narrative elegance. It is a functional, rather than inspired, piece of screenwriting—a necessary evil to return Cushing’s magnetic villain to the centre of the action.

Having cheated death, Frankenstein resurfaces in the city of Karlsbrück under the alias “Dr. Victor Stein”. He establishes a hugely successful medical practice, cynically catering to the wealthy while operating a free clinic for the poor to cultivate a benevolent reputation. His methods baffle and irritate the local medical council, whose delegation to his hospital includes the young, ambitious Dr. Hans Kleve Francis Matthews . Kleve alone recognises Stein as the infamous Frankenstein and, in a pivotal scene, reveals himself as a fanatical admirer, begging to become the Baron’s pupil. This dynamic injects a fresh energy into the formula; where Frankenstein previously worked in isolated obsession, he now has a devotee. Together, they embark on a new project: creating a perfect body for Karl, who willingly donates his brain in hopes of a new life. The experiment initially seems a triumph,…

This plot hinges on a notable, and rather cavalier, disregard for continuity between the two films. As noted, Frankenstein’s tale shifts from being dismissed as lunacy to being accepted as widespread fact. This inconsistency can be directly attributed to the film’s rushed genesis. Producer Michael Carreras allowed Sangster a mere six weeks to deliver the script, a pressure that inevitably forced corners to be cut and logical through-lines to be simplified in favour of expedient set-up.

Despite this foundational wobble, The Revenge of Frankenstein mostly works, thanks largely to the assured hands of its core creative team. Terence Fisher, operating again on a limited budget, directs with a lean, confident efficiency that distinguishes the sequel from its predecessor. He moves the action from a gothic castle to a more urban, clinical environment, reflecting the Baron’s new, more socially integrated guise. The film’s greatest success is Michael Gwynn’s performance as the creature. An experienced stage actor, Gwynn brings a profound pathos and intelligence to the role, making Karl’s tragic fate—his consciousness trapped in a body that becomes a prison of its own—arguably more nuanced and memorable than Lee’s more iconic but less psychologically explored Monster. Fisher also maintains the series’ brief flashes of levity, notably through Lionel Jeffries’ scene-stealing turn…

However, not all elements land effectively. The film dabbles in proto-slasher tropes when the disturbed Karl stumbles upon a young couple on a secluded street, resulting in the death of the girl Avril Leslie . The scene feels tonally jarring, a crude intrusion of sudden violence that clashes with the film’s more measured gothic and tragic tones. Furthermore, the female lead is conspicuously wasted. Eunice Gayson, who would later find fame as James Bond’s first girlfriend, Sylvia Trench, is given the inconsequential role of Margaret Conrad. She serves neither as a romantic interest nor a meaningful damsel in distress; her function is purely plot-catalytic, a device to unleash the monster before receding into the background—a disappointing treatment for a capable actress.

In terms of content, the film’s reputation for causing contemporary critics to call for stricter censorship seems hyperbolic by modern standards. Even for the 1950s, The Revenge of Frankenstein is relatively tame. True to Hammer’s early approach, much of the violence occurs off-screen, and there is very little of the explicit gore that would later define the genre. The horror is more suggested through implication and the chilling amorality of Cushing’s Frankenstein.

Sangster and Fisher salvage a potentially routine monster-on-the-loose narrative with a clever double-twist near the climax. After his patients, enraged by his deception, nearly beat him to death, Frankenstein appears to meet his end. Yet, in a final act of arrogant triumph, it is revealed that Dr. Kleve has saved the Baron’s brain, transplanting it into a new body. The epilogue, set in a London surgery where Kleve assists a “Dr. Frank”, is brilliant. It not only provides a deliciously cynical punchline but also seamlessly bridges the film to future sequels, ensuring the Baron’s—and Hammer’s—line of unholy research could continue indefinitely.

The Revenge of Frankenstein is a sequel of pragmatic ingenuity rather than groundbreaking inspiration. Hamstrung by a rushed script that papers over continuity gaps, it nonetheless succeeds through Fisher’s solid direction, Cushing’s eternally compelling central performance, and a genuinely tragic turn from Michael Gwynn. It consolidates the Hammer formula established in The Curse of Frankenstein : colour, cynicism, and a focus on human evil over supernatural monstrosity. While it stumbles in its handling of female characters and occasional tonal missteps, its effective final twist ensures it remains a compelling and important link in the chain of one of British cinema’s most enduring horror series.

RATING: 5/10 ++

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Film Review: The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958)

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