A New Bride Rises: Maggie Gyllenhaal’s “The Bride!” Reimagines a Classic Tale
Maggie Gyllenhaal’s latest cinematic venture, “The Bride!”, offers a bold and provocative reimagining of the iconic 1936 film, “The Bride of Frankenstein.” While the original presented the titular bride as a fleeting, silent figure, Gyllenhaal’s vision thrusts her into the spotlight, giving voice and agency to a character long relegated to the periphery.
The film’s premise is captivating: from the ethereal realm of the afterlife, Mary Shelley, the brilliant but often overlooked author of “Frankenstein,” seeks an earthly vessel. She selects Ida (both played by Jessie Buckley), a resilient escort navigating the treacherous underworld of 1930s Chicago, under the thumb of the notorious crime boss Mr. Lupino (Zlatko Burić).
In a pivotal moment, Mary compels Ida to unleash a furious outburst before Mr. Lupino, a defiant act that leads to Ida’s tragic fall down a flight of stairs and a broken neck. This fatal event, however, sets the stage for an extraordinary resurrection. Ida is exhumed from a pauper’s grave by the enigmatic Dr. Frankenstein (Christian Bale) and his equally intriguing associate, Dr. Euphronious (Annette Bening).
Dr. Euphronious succeeds in reanimating Ida, and with her, Mary Shelley also reappears, now sharing Ida’s physical form. “The Bride!” transcends a simple retelling of the Frankenstein mythos. Instead, it delves into the often-unacknowledged struggles and the potent “second life” of Mary Shelley herself. It’s a compelling exploration of what the author might have articulated had she been granted the opportunity to rewrite not only her seminal novel but also her own tumultuous existence.
Unpacking the Legacy of Mary Shelley
Mary Shelley is frequently remembered as a prodigious talent, a literary wunderkind. Born in 1797 into a world of esteemed intellectuals – her parents were the writers William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, and she was married to the celebrated poet Percy Bysshe Shelley – her place in literary history was cemented when, as a teenager, she penned the first science fiction novel.
“Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus,” published in 1818 when she was a mere 20 years old, emerged from a creative fever ignited just two years prior during a “fateful night in Geneva.” The novel chronicles the ambition of Victor Frankenstein, a young scientist who dares to play God with catastrophic consequences. His creation of a sentient being from the remains of corpses is met with horror and abandonment upon witnessing its monstrous form. The work quickly ascended to become a cornerstone of English literature.
However, Shelley’s story is far more complex than that of a gifted young girl. At the tender age of 18, she had already eloped with a married man, endured the devastating loss of a child, and given birth to a son. “Frankenstein” was not born from innocent musings but was forged in the crucible of her profound grief and simmering rage. By the time she was 21, within a year of her novel’s publication, Shelley had buried three children, with a fourth born shortly thereafter.
Despite the monumental success of “Frankenstein,” Shelley’s subsequent literary endeavours were largely overlooked. Yet, across the two centuries since her masterpiece’s debut, her legacy has been continually re-evaluated. She has been lauded as a radical thinker, a feminist icon, and the progenitor of science fiction. Conversely, she has also faced accusations of heresy, infidelity, and being as “mad as her hero.”
A Starkly Different Mary
The Mary Shelley depicted in “The Bride!” is a far cry from the romanticised figures of previous cinematic portrayals. Jessie Buckley’s performance imbues her with a raw, lived-in quality. Lit to accentuate the shadows beneath her eyes and the subtle lines on her face, this Mary is often seen with a downturned mouth, punctuated by humourless laughter. This is not a Mary of lighthearted whimsy; she is a Mary who has weathered immense hardship.
This stark portrayal contrasts sharply with earlier cinematic interpretations. The 1931 film “The Bride of Frankenstein” opens with Mary Shelley (Elsa Lanchester) narrating the tale to Lord Byron and Percy Shelley, positioning her as the storyteller. In this version, Mary is depicted as demure, dressed in pristine white, overshadowed by Byron’s commanding presence and Percy’s creative focus. Her response to the storm outside – “You know how lightning alarms me” – paints a picture of a sweet, mild-mannered, and morally upright woman.
A more recent portrayal, “Mary Shelley” (2017), featured Elle Fanning as the author, charting her journey from youth to grief-stricken motherhood. This film largely presents Mary as energetic and inspired, dedicating herself to writing at all hours. Her passionate love affair with Percy is central, and much of the narrative revolves around the dismissive attitudes of the men surrounding her in Geneva.
Neither of these films offers a particularly empowering depiction. In both, Shelley appears subservient to her husband. The 1931 film has her needing “Shelley, darling” to perform simple tasks like lighting a candle. The 2017 film suggests she wrote “Frankenstein” as a coded critique of Percy’s perceived flaws through the character of Victor.
The Bride’s Reckoning
“The Bride!” challenges viewers to look beyond the familiar narrative of Frankenstein, his creation, and his intended mate, and to confront the woman behind the legend. This film’s Mary is a force, a demon unleashed. She asserts that during her lifetime, she was unable to express all she wished to, both in her life and in her writing. Now, she seizes the opportunity, employing any means necessary.
Ida, as Mary’s vessel, becomes a conduit for this unexpressed rage. She refuses to be silenced, her body often writhing and screaming. Her mouth, frequently stained with an inky substance, symbolises its constant, defiant opening.
Through Ida, Mary confronts the men who seek to control and silence women like Ida, and by extension, herself. She rails against the expectation that women should be demure, placid, and subservient, incapable of independent action. Mary uses Ida to directly challenge these patriarchal structures, metaphorically holding a gun to the heads of those who perpetuate them. This act of defiance paves the way for a broader feminist awakening, empowering women to resist the oppressive forces that have long bound them.
In “The Bride!”, Mary Shelley finally emerges not as a delicate writer of gothic tales, but as the formidable architect who could stitch together literature’s most enduring monster, a testament to her enduring power and a reclamation of her voice.
