The Look of Frankenstein

“And thus the heart will break. Yet brokenly live on.” –Lord Byron 

There is a persistent warning in the film world that artists should avoid realizing their “dream projects,” lest the reality fall short of the decades of imagination that preceded it. But for Guillermo del Toro, his 2025 adaptation of Frankenstein transcends a tragedy of fulfilled expectations. The director, who has long called the creature his “personal messiah” and “avatar,” has stripped away the pop-culture clichés of bolts and green face paint to return to the philosophical marrow of Mary Shelley’s 1818 masterpiece.

(SPOILERS AHEAD!)

By shifting the setting forward to 1857, del Toro grounds the narrative in a Victorian era defined by the dawn of the industrial age and the raw, terrifying potential of electricity. This is a world where Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) is not merely a mad scientist, but a manic, grieving architect of life, obsessed with conquering the finality of death. Opposite him, Jacob Elordi’s creature — looming at 6-foot-5 but possessed of a heartbreaking, bluish pallor — is born not as a monster, but as a “new Adam” abandoned in a world of abject misery.  

PRO TIP: Bookmark this page so you can easily refer back to it later.

The visual language of the film is a “nightmare one can swoon in,” defined by del Toro’s signature palette of deep crimsons and charcoal blacks. It is an environment where the creature’s flesh resembles merged tectonic plates, and the Victorian sets evoke a lush, Gothic burial ground for human ambition. This is a story that refuses to wink at its audience. It is a sincere, agonizingly romantic exploration of what it means to be made. To be unloved. To be human. 

This is the aesthetic of a creator who has finally animated his most personal dream. It is the visual language of the hunter and the hunted.

This is The Look of Frankenstein.

CONTENTS: Tech Specs The World  Production Design Cinematography Costume Design

🗲 FRANKENSTEIN TECH SPECS 🗲

• Runtime: 2 hour 29 minutes (149 minutes)
• Color: 
  • Color 

• Aspect Ratio: 
  • 1.85 : 1 

• Camera: 
  • Arri Alexa 65, Leitz Thalia Lenses
  • Red V-Raptor XL, Arri Signature Prime Lenses

• Negative Format: 
  • Codex

• Cinematographic Process: 
  • ARRIRAW (6.5K, source format)
  • Digital Intermediate (4K, master format)

• Printed Film Format: 
  • DCP Digital Cinema Package 
  • Video (UHD)

 

🗲 THE WORLD OF FRANKENSTEIN 🗲

THE WORLD OF GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S FRANKENSTEIN

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a world defined by the “resurrection of the flesh” and the heavy, atmospheric weight of Victorian Gothicism. While Mary Shelley’s original 1818 text was set in the late 18th century, del Toro strategically shifts the timeline forward to 1857. This mid-19th-century setting provides a more “modern” electrical dawn, allowing Victor Frankenstein to weaponize the burgeoning industrial age fully. It is a world where the stark, frozen landscapes of the Arctic — reminiscent of a Caspar David Friedrich painting — clash with the vividly hued opulence of European palaces and the grimey, blood-soaked floor of a surgeon’s laboratory.

THE MILTONIC SHADOW: PARADISE LOST

The spiritual foundation of this world is built upon the bones of John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Del Toro leans into the theological remixing of the novel, framing the narrative as an agonizing dialogue between a creator and a creation who never asked to be born. The world is a reflection of this abandonment. It is lush and romantic, yet fundamentally broken.

The film’s structure mirrors this tragic cycle, beginning near the novel’s end in the desolate North Pole before spiraling back into the obsession that birthed the Creature. This is a universe where men are the true monsters, and the “Modern Prometheus” is less a hero of science and more a grieving parent suffering from a manic, scientific “postpartum malaise.”

THE DICHOTOMY OF VICTOR AND THE CREATURE

In this 1857 landscape, the characters are visual extensions of the world’s conflict. Victor Frankenstein, played with a manic, “Byronesque” quality by Oscar Isaac, inhabits spaces of high contrast — man-made structures, phallic towers, and laboratories cluttered with “steampunk” technology. He represents the death cult of capitalism and the hubris of the Victorian elite, who seek to usurp God to fund their own immortality.

Conversely, Jacob Elordi’s Creature represents the brutalized beauty of nature. Standing at a towering 6-foot-5, his presence is both lanky and menacing, yet inherently gentle. Eschewing the traditional green skin of cinematic history, del Toro gives the Creature a bluish, dead-skin pallor — the color of the morgue. He is a “new Adam” born into abject misery, a literate and sentient being whose existence is a “chemical footprint” of his maker’s failure.

BEAUTY AND BRUTALITY: A VISUAL SYNCHRONICITY

Del Toro’s world is one where beauty and brutality are inextricably woven together. The production design emphasizes a “visual synchronicity” where the frames are replete with deep crimsons and charcoal blacks. There is a constant battle between the vibrant, nurturing life represented by characters like Elizabeth (Mia Goth) and the “nasty, brutish, and quick” violence of Victor’s laboratory.

It is a world where the sun might shine through a window into a room filled with severed limbs and tectonic plates of flesh, suggesting that in seeking life, Victor has only succeeded in creating a more elaborate form of death. This is the hallmark of del Toro’s “cinema of monsters.” It’s a world where we understand the drive of the mad scientist while weeping for the discarded soul of the creation.

🗲 FRANKENSTEIN PRODUCTION DESIGN 🗲

The production design of Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a masterclass in “handmade” world-building, defined by a rejection of green screens in favor of tactile, 360-degree environments. Led by production designer Tamara Deverell, a longtime collaborator of del Toro, the design team was tasked with realizing a decades-long dream. Like the titular doctor, Deverell stitched together disparate architectural and historical elements. They ranged from Scottish water towers to anatomical tables in London. All to create a visual narrative that del Toro describes as “deeply biographical.” 

THE ANATOMY OF A DREAM: RESEARCH AND THE HUNTERIAN INFLUENCE

To ground the film’s “Gothic science fiction” in period reality, Deverell and del Toro conducted extensive research into 19th-century medical and scientific technology. A pivotal moment in the design process occurred during a visit to the Hunterian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons in London. There, Deverell took over 3,000 photographs of medical implements and anatomical preparations.

The standout discovery was the Evelyn Tables, 17th-century anatomical preparations made from real human tissue and nerves varnished onto pinewood boards. The production created replicas of these tables, which Victor uses as teaching tools. For the Creature’s own anatomy, Deverell hand-drew a fictional map of the lymphatic system, which was then 3D-modeled and applied to weathered boards using sculpted lymph nodes and thread to give del Toro and cinematographer Dan Laustsen “real things” to light. 

THE LABORATORY: THE ABANDONED WATER TOWER

Victor Frankenstein’s laboratory is not the traditional castle seen in early cinema, but an abandoned municipal water tower perched on the edge of a cliff. The exterior was inspired by the National Wallace Monument and the Wallace Tower in Scotland, while the stonework featured “Sphinx feet” motifs requested by del Toro to echo mythological scales. 

Wallace Tower (L) | National Wallace Monument (R)

The interior was a massive studio build at Pinewood Studios Toronto, measuring 70 feet by 40 feet high. 

The Tapered Design 

Early renditions of the lab were deemed “too busy” with mezzanines and staircases. Deverell used 3D modeling to strip the design back to a single staircase and tapered walls, allowing the actors’ movements to drive the scene. 

The Medusa Head 

A massive circular Medusa head dominated one wall. Del Toro viewed Medusa as the “misunderstood monster of all monsters,” and its placement mirrored the circular motifs found throughout the film, representing the “circle of life.” 

The Battery Towers 

The lab featured four 15-foot-tall green glass battery towers. These were fully functional “maxitures” that turned red when electrified — a practical effect achieved without VFX. 

THE FARTHEST NORTH: BUILDING THE ARCTIC IN A PARKING LOT

One of the film’s greatest logistical achievements was the creation of the Arctic “Farthest North” sequences. Despite the vast scale seen on screen, these scenes were filmed in the Netflix studio parking lot in Toronto. 

Deverell transformed the asphalt into a frozen expanse using metal structures clad in Styrofoam and silicone to create giant icebergs. These were inspired by Caspar David Friedrich’s painting The Sea of Ice, specifically replicating the “translucency” and “ice cream sandwich” layering of the ice.

To complete the illusion, the structures were covered in a mix of fake and real snow. The ship, the Horizon, was a 130-foot-long vessel built on a massive metal truss and roller gimbal system, allowing the Creature to physically rock the boat. 

GOTHIC GRANDEUR: THE FRANKENSTEIN VILLA AND COLOR SYMBOLISM

The Frankenstein family estate provided a stark contrast to the Arctic. Deverell utilized several Scottish and English stately homes, including Gosford House, Burghley House, and Wilton House.

Frankenstein | Netflix

 

The Color Palette

The villa was defined by a “creamy” palette of ivory stone and glossy wood. Because Gosford House was a historic building, the crew could not paint the white walls, so Laustsen’s lighting was used to “texture” the space into a Gothic mood.

The Mother’s Red

Red — specifically a shade del Toro calls “pigeon blood“ — was established as the “Mother’s color.” This hue appears in the mother’s casket, her bedding, Victor’s gloves during the creation scene, and eventually on Elizabeth’s wedding dress, serving as a visual “bloodline” throughout the story. 

THE MILL HOUSE: WEATHERING AND NATURE

The Creature’s interlude in the woods provided a rare moment of warmth. The design team built the “Mill House” on a stage and on location in Ontario. To achieve a realistic “patina,” Deverell had the exterior built months in advance, allowing it to sit through the winter so the wooden shingles would naturally fade. This “life-giving” environment was intended to show the Creature’s true personality: a being deeply tied to the “real beauty of nature,” represented by trees growing out of rocks in the Ontario conservation area where they filmed. 

🗲 FRANKENSTEIN CINEMATOGRAPHY 🗲

The cinematography of Frankenstein is the result of a decades-long creative shorthand between director Guillermo del Toro and cinematographer Dan Laustsen, ASC. Having collaborated on projects like Mimic, Crimson Peak, and The Shape of Water, the duo approached this “dream project” with a shared obsession for single-source lighting and a painterly use of shadow. Laustsen describes the visual language of the film as a “modern take on a classic movie,” drawing deep inspiration from the chiaroscuro techniques of painters like Caravaggio and Rembrandt to ensure that light functions as a character within the narrative.

THE MASTERY OF THE SINGLE SOURCE

A defining characteristic of Laustsen’s work on Frankenstein is his commitment to single-source lighting and what he calls “poor light.” This philosophy dictates that light should only exist where it is narratively necessary, rather than flooding a set with artificial brightness.

 “We talked about that a lot when we did Frankenstein… we want to have this single source lighting, not be afraid of the darkness and have it like a very moving camera, but a very contrasty [look].” —Dan Laustsen

To achieve this, Laustsen and del Toro decided that almost all illumination should originate from outside the sets, shooting through the massive, operatic windows designed by Tamara Deverell. By keeping the fixtures outside, Laustsen was able to maintain a thick, consistent atmosphere of smoke and steam without the light “breaking up” or revealing its artificial source. This approach requires the camera to almost always shoot into the light or toward the shadow side of the actors, a technique Laustsen favors to create depth and a tactile sense of “realness” on the 35mm-equivalent digital sensor.

THE BALLET OF THE 24MM LENS

While many large-scale epics rely on a variety of focal lengths, Laustsen reveals that approximately 90% of Frankenstein was shot using a 24mm lens on the Alexa 65 (Large Format). This choice allowed the production to capture the grand, operatic scale of the Victorian sets while simultaneously moving into “obsessively tight” close-ups within the same shot.

“The way we shot… we’re coming into a set where we see the full set, and then we’re dragging behind one of the actors with the crane or the Steadicam, and we are coming into a big close-up in the end. I have to be lit for a wide shot and a tight shot in the same time.” —Dan Laustsen

They choreographed movement like a ballet. Del Toro directed the dolly grips and operators via intercom to ensure the camera’s dance perfectly matched the actors’ blocking. This allowed for fluid takes where the camera would transition seamlessly into a poignant close-up, all while maintaining the integrity of the single-source lighting.

TEXTURAL INTEGRITY AND MAGENTIC FILTRATION

To combat the clinical sharpness of the Alexa 65 sensor, Laustsen employed a specific filtration strategy to maintain a painterly, “wrinkled” texture on the actors’ faces. He utilized a Black Promist filter placed behind the lens — using a magnetic clip-on system—rather than in front of the glass.

“If we get a lens flare, we don’t get a filter flare. I think that’s a lot of the richness of that… the diffusion helps a lot for the skin tones.” —Dan Laustsen

Laustsen explains that this placement is crucial because it allows the highlights to burn out and the skin tones to soften while keeping the blacks incredibly deep and rich. This was essential for maintaining the film’s high-contrast noir aesthetic without sacrificing the detail in the shadows.

PRACTICAL FIRE AND MINIATURE LIGHTING

Guillermo del Toro’s preference for practical effects meant that Laustsen had to light scenes using organic, often unpredictable sources. For the night sequences on the Arctic boat, the primary key light was provided by actual flaming torches held by the actors.

“I like flaming sources because they’re so organic and they’re so dynamic. The beauty of that is, when the wind is changing, the light is changing as well… it’s just getting so organic.” —Dan Laustsen

This commitment to practicality extended to the UK-based miniature shoot. Because these sequences were shot at 96 fps to simulate massive scale, Laustsen had to blast the miniatures with an immense amount of light to maintain a deep depth of field, all while matching the specific “poor light” atmosphere of the full-scale sets in Toronto.

THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUN

Throughout the film, the sun serves as a powerful symbol of the Creature’s internal journey. Laustsen and del Toro used color temperature to track the Creature’s emotional state, starting with warm, amber-hued sunlight during the “innocent” early days of his sentience. 

“The sun is a very, very important character for the Frankenstein… in the end of the movie, where he’s actually forgiving his daddy, he’s going into the sun again. I think it’s a circle of sun.” —Dan Laustsen

This “circle of light” was a deliberate choice, mirrored in the production design’s use of round windows in both the ship and the laboratory, reinforcing the theme that the story is a cycle of life, death, and eventual spiritual peace.

Become a member of Filmmakers Academy to master the art of cinematography!

 

🗲 FRANKENSTEIN COSTUME DESIGN 🗲

The costume design of Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is a vivid departure from the monochromatic, Dickensian tropes of standard Victorian dramas. Led by costume designer Kate Hawley, who previously collaborated with del Toro on Crimson Peak and Pacific Rim, the wardrobe serves as a “nutritional” visual feast where every stitch contributes to the film’s narrative depth. Hawley’s approach was defined by a rejection of the “sea of black hats” typically associated with the 1850s, opting instead for a world-building strategy that emphasizes color, texture, and the “alchemy” between the director’s vision and the actors’ physicality.

THE DANDY SCIENTIST: VICTOR AS ROCK STAR

For the character of Victor Frankenstein, played by Oscar Isaac, del Toro steered Hawley away from the image of a sterile scientist and toward that of a restless artist or a “dandy.” The design team drew inspiration from diverse sources, including 19th-century poet Lord Byron and 20th-century icons like David Bowie during his “Thin White Duke” era. Isaac’s wardrobe — characterized by eccentric hats, colorful robes, and French bohemian-style suiting — was intended to convey a “bravado” that matched his scientific hubris.

A key element of Victor’s look was a sense of “beautiful dishevelment.” Hawley and her team made a conscious decision to stop “fixing” Isaac’s clothing between takes, allowing the garments to become crumpled and lived-in. This irreverence reflected a man so consumed by his “muse” that he had an effortless disregard for his own appearance. During the climactic creation scenes, Victor dons a leather apron that suggests flayed skin, reinforcing his role as an artist molding life from the remains of the dead.

THE ANATOMY OF A NOBLE: CRAFTING THE CREATURE

The wardrobe of Jacob Elordi’s Creature tracks his psychological evolution from an “abomination” to a sentient, articulate being. Eschewing the traditional green skin and neck bolts, Hawley worked with the Creature’s “Michelangelo’s David” physique. His journey begins in decaying bandages evocative of a macabre shroud or a “Christ-like” figure. Upon his escape, the Creature’s first real garment is a heavy trenchcoat retrieved from a mass grave of soldiers on a Crimean battlefield.

Frankenstein | Netflix

Hawley describes this coat as a “filleted skin,” with details intended to mimic the memory of anatomy, such as fabric coiling to resemble the vertebrae of a neck. As the Creature gains eloquence and experiences love from the Blind Man, his clothing shifts. By the film’s end, his silhouette is transformed into that of a “noble or a prince,” wearing robes that serve as a direct homage to the illustrations of graphic artist Bernie Wrightson.

THE LUMINOUS MUSE: ELIZABETH AND THE TIFFANY PARTNERSHIP

For Mia Goth, who plays the dual roles of Elizabeth and Claire Frankenstein, the costumes were designed to be “luminous and fleeting,” acting as the “muse” Victor can never quite grasp. Elizabeth’s wardrobe is defined by bejeweled tones and “ephemeral” textures inspired by nature, specifically the iridescent wings of beetles. Hawley utilized a “painterly approach” to color, layering transparent fabrics and patterns based on blood cells and X-rays to create a contemporary feel within a gothic context.

A historic partnership with Tiffany & Co. brought a level of “archival craftsmanship” to Goth’s performance. They granted Hawley access to the Tiffany Archives, sourcing pieces from as early as the 1860s. This collaboration resulted in bespoke jewelry, including a “Frankenstein-ed” carnelian red rosary bead necklace that combined an archival cross with a scarab beetle design. This piece served as a visual intersection of religion and the “theology of nature,” themes central to del Toro’s interpretation.

THE WEDDING GOWN: A TRIBUTE TO HORROR HISTORY

Elizabeth’s wedding dress is one of the film’s most technically complex builds, requiring nine different versions for various stunts and effects. The gown serves as an homage to the 1935 classic Bride of Frankenstein, featuring Swiss ribbon bodices and sleeves that rhyme with the Creature’s bandages. 

Constructed from six layers of ultra-light silk and transparent organza, the dress was designed to look like an “X-ray of a gown.” The internal construction — reminiscent of a rib cage or filleted skin — remained hidden until the final scene, where Elizabeth bleeds out. Hawley notes that the blood flowing through the white fabric was the “circular narrative” completed, bringing the film’s color language back to its visceral beginnings.

THE BLOODLINE OF RED: COLOR AS NUTRITION

Del Toro’s use of color is strictly thematic, particularly the use of “pigeon-blood red” to represent the mother and death. The film’s visual language is established through Claire Frankenstein’s blood-red dress and veil, a motif that echoes del Toro’s earlier work in The Devil’s Backbone. This “bloodline” follows Victor throughout his life, manifesting in the red gloves he wears as a surgeon, the red casket of his mother, and the glowing red of the laboratory’s battery towers.

Frankenstein | Netflix

To achieve the necessary depth for these colors, Hawley’s department employed a team of “alchemists” — dyers and textile designers who moved away from bright, saturated tones in favor of “tonal depth.” By looking at the archives of Louis Comfort Tiffany and his “Favrile” glasswork, the team mixed purples, greens, and blues to create a dark, shimmering iridescence that reinforced the film’s atmosphere of “melancholy and loneliness.”

🗲 WATCH FRANKENSTEIN 🗲

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein stands as a definitive riposte to the idea that a dream project is destined to disappoint. By anchoring the narrative in the physical — the weight of hand-milled wood, the flicker of real torchlight, and the tactile texture of pigeon-blood silk — the production team has created a world that feels as vital as it is haunting. It is a film that refuses the shortcuts of modern digital convenience, opting instead for a handmade aesthetic that mirrors the labor of Victor Frankenstein himself. 

The synergy between Laustsen’s single-source lighting, Deverell’s operatic architecture, and Hawley’s psychological costuming proves that a film’s look is never just one department’s victory. It is an orchestral collaboration where every frame serves the story of a creator and a creature both lost in a cold, Victorian world. In an era increasingly dominated by the artificial, Frankenstein is a soaring illustration of how the most powerful cinematic nightmares are the ones crafted by human hands.

Frankenstein is exclusively available to watch on Netflix.

 

JOIN OUR MEMBERSHIP TO LEARN FROM INDUSTRY PROFESSIONALS! 

The level of technical sophistication found in Frankenstein is the result of decades of experience — knowledge that is meant to be shared. At Filmmakers Academy, we provide the roadmap to help you bridge the gap between creative inspiration and professional technical execution.

To better serve your specific career goals, we have updated how you can learn with us. You can now customize your education by purchasing our Premium Masterclasses a la carte. Whether you want to master a specific discipline or add a specialized course to your current membership, you have the flexibility to pay only for the training you need, exactly when you need it.

Don’t just watch the look—learn how to create it.

WORKS CITED:  Deverell, Tamara. Interview by Hugh Hart. “Production Designer Tamara Deverell on Building the Gothic Grandeur of Guillermo del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein.’” Motion Pictures Association, 22 Oct. 2025, www.motionpictures.org/2025/10/production-designer-tamara-deverell-on-building-the-gothic-grandeur-of-guillermo-del-toros-frankenstein/.  Deverell, Tamara. Interview by Jazz Tangcay. “‘Frankenstein’ Production Designer Tamara Deverell Build Epic Lab and Ship Sets for Guillermo del Toro’s Gothic Tale.” Variety, 2025, variety.com/2025/artisans/news/frankenstein-production-design-ship-lab-sets-del-toro-1236608972/. Deverell, Tamara. Interview by Eric Green. “Production Designer Tamara Deverell On Hand Crafting A Humane Version Of ‘Frankenstein’.” Immersive Media, 12 Nov. 2025, immersivemedia.substack.com/p/production-designer-tamara-deverell. Deverell, Tamara. Interview by Mark Salisbury. “‘Frankenstein’ production designer on mixing the “fantastic and the real” for the film’s epic sets.” ScreenDaily, 24 Nov. 2025, www.screendaily.com/interviews/frankenstein-production-designer-on-mixing-the-fantastic-and-the-real-for-the-films-epic-sets/5211079.article. Fleming, Ryan. “The Craft Of ‘Frankenstein’: How The Production Design, Cinematography, Editing, Costume Design & Score Brought Guillermo Del Toro’s Dream To Life.” Deadline, 4 Dec. 2025, deadline.com/2025/12/frankenstein-craft-costume-edit-production-feature-magazine-1236636317/. Fordham, Joe. “Designing Frankenstein.” American Cinematographer, 2025, theasc.com/articles/frankenstein-production-design. Laustsen, Dan. Interview by Chris Haigh. Finding the Frame, 2025. Haigh, Chris. “Finding the Frame.” Filmmakers Academy, Dec. 2025. … Bellizzi, Miyako and Hawley, Kate. Interviews by Amy Synnott and Chelsey Sanchez. Goop and Harper’s Bazaar, 23 Oct. & 28 Oct. 2025. Deverell, Tamara and Hawley, Kate. Interviews by Eric Green. “Costume Designer Kate Hawley On The Power Of Color Amongst The Gothic World Of ‘Frankenstein’.” Immersive Media, 18 Nov. 2025. Fleming, Ryan. “The Craft Of ‘Frankenstein’: How The Production Design, Cinematography, Editing, Costume Design & Score Brought Guillermo Del Toro’s Dream To Life.” Deadline, 4 Dec. 2025. Foss, Gary. “Frankenstein with Kate Hawley.” Costume Designers Guild, 14 Nov. 2025. Giroux, Jack. “How ‘Frankenstein’ Costume Designer Kate Hawley on Dressing Men, Monsters, & Their Mothers.” Motion Picture Association, 10 Nov. 2025. Hawley, Kate. “TIFFANY & CO for FRANKENSTEIN.” Kate Hawley Studios, 2025. Woroner, Ken. “Horrifying Looks: Costume Designer Kate Hawley on Guillermo del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein’.” Filmmaker Magazine, 22 Dec. 2025.