'The Bride!' review: Maggie Gyllenhaal's monster-sized, baffling creation

Near the end of Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel “Frankenstein,” the lonely creature at its center demands a mate from his creator. But the doctor refuses, fearing he might “set loose upon the earth a daemon.” Not until 1935 would we see what Shelley almost brought to life, in “Bride of Frankenstein,” the James Whale sequel featuring a hissing, shock-haired Elsa Lanchester in the title role. Even then, though, she never spoke a word.

In “The Bride!,” writer-director Maggie Gyllenhaal attempts to finally give this iconic character a voice. At least, I think that’s what Gyllenhaal is doing. “The Bride!” slightly modernizes Shelley’s story to 1936, relocates it to a corrupt Chicago and frames its two lovers as a lurching Bonnie and Clyde. But Gyllenhaal also wants her Bride to be an avatar of violent feminist vengeance. If there’s any cohesion in all this, you'll have to dig awfully deep to find it.

Christian Bale plays the pieced-together Frankenstein – yes, the name of his creator -- who convinces the eccentric Dr. Euphronious to do what the old man wouldn’t. (She's played by Annette Bening, the only confident presence in the film.) Their choice of corpses: A problematic prostitute named Ida (Jessie Buckley, Oscar-nominated for "Hamnet"). Erratic, destructive and given to seizures, Ida also speaks in torrents of high-flown, Joycean prose. For example: “Slow down, mate -- shipmate, helpmate, stalemate” and so on. A potion of some sort has blackened her cheek strangely (and her lips perfectly) in what looks like a nod to Lanchester’s classic white-on-black hair-streaks. Frank, as he’s called, falls for Ida instantly. You may warm to her more slowly, or never at all.

Bale and Buckley are among the best around, but here they’re just mouthpieces for Gyllenhaal’s strident yet confused screenplay. Bale’s Frank must switch from gentle soul to heartless killer depending on Gyllenhaal’s mood, while Buckley’s Ida is not really a character but a bunch of mixed-up symbols: One minute she’s a tragic heroine, the next a disruptive force. But then she's the Angel of Consent: “She said no, Eddie!” Ida bellows at two heavy-petting teens in a movie theater. Finally, she’s just a victim of organized crime, as we discover thanks to a sad-sack cop named Jake (Peter Sarsgaard, Gyllenhall’s husband) and his plucky assistant, Myrna (Penélope Cruz).

The result is a baffling, IMAX-sized mix of “Promising Young Woman” and “The Untouchables,” with an added dollop of Depression-era musicals (Jake Gyllenhaal, the director’s brother, plays a matinee idol named Ronnie Reed). There’s also an unwise nod to Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein” when Bale’s Frank sings “Puttin’ on the Ritz.” And did I mention the meta-narrative, in which Buckley also plays the late Shelley? What it all adds up to, even the filmmaker may not fully know. After all these years, The Bride still can’t make herself understood.

By Rafer Guzmán

rafer.guzman@newsday.com