Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

By the time "Frankenstein Created Woman" arrived in theaters in 1967, the series, from legendary horror factory Hammer Films, was already three installments into its run. Facing a new cinematic adventure, the producers elected to avoid coarse savagery of the flesh to travel within, sparking to a story concerning the trappable aspects of the human soul. Of course, some gore zone visits were required to please the fan base, yet, for the most part, "Frankenstein Creates Woman" is a movie with ideas, just no real sense of how implement them into a riveting feature. Lead work from Peter Cushing is reliably passionate and regal, and bombshell Susan Denberg makes an impression as an innocent vengeance machine, but the effort lacks a certain macabre zest present in other Hammer Horror endeavors. While it's digestible, with a handful of respectable scenes, the picture doesn't rise to the occasion, reaching its potential as a Frankenstein film with a minor in metaphysics.

As a young boy, Hans (Robert Morris) witnessed the execution of his father for the crime of murder. A decade later, Hans keeps busy assisting Baron Frankenstein (Peter Cushing), who, with the aid of Dr. Hertz (Thorley Walters), is attempting to perfect a process that could isolate and trap a human soul, permitting study and possibly a chance to revive the dead. Hans is in love with Christina (Susan Denberg), a disfigured girl who's ashamed of her looks, openly taunted by the locals, including fancy creeps Anton (Peter Blythe), Karl (Barry Warren), and Johann (Derek Fowlds). When the troublemakers team up to harass Christina's father, restaurateur Kleve (Alan McNaughton), the men end up committing murder, allowing Hans to take the blame. Sent to the guillotine for his crime, Hans is executed, with Christine opting to kill herself out of despair. Trying to make the best out of a bad situation, Frankenstein captures Hans's soul and places it inside Christina's body. Now refreshed and beautiful, the transformed woman teams with her new internal spirit to exact revenge on the remorseless dandies.

The marketing materials for "Frankenstein Created Woman" promise a feature of exposed females and dark science, playing into the pulpy standards of Hammer Horror as a home for cheap thrills. It's not that movie, finding director Terence Fisher ("The Hound of the Baskervilles") and screenwriter Anthony Hinds in a more reflective mood, attempting to elevate the material with big ideas on spiritual function. Not that "Frankenstein Created Woman" is a dissertation on the meaning of life and the essence of humanity, but there's a slight sense of wonder to the picture that makes it enticing, observing the character chase after the intangible, which is made a very real thing in the film, imagined as a glowing orb of light. 

Of course, that soul of innocence has to go somewhere, with the second half of the picture devoted to Christina's rebirth with Hans's battery, triggering an appetite for revenge that leads the feature to more recognizable elements of bloodshed and terror. "Frankenstein Created Woman" misses the mark in terms of scares, with no real element of danger in place, but the movie carries rage well, properly motivating the killing spree by making the dandies utterly reprehensible characters who get off on humiliating others, making Christina and her facial woes their primary target. The production doesn't let loose, transforming the body count into a visceral experience, but the oddity of such a premise, with Christina a puppet to Hans's ethereal demands, is almost enough to sustain interest, especially when this Hammer chapter doesn't show much interest in sex appeal (Playboy Playmate Denberg is unexpectedly demure here) or outrageous gore, with shock shots reserved for a few beheadings. 

While "Frankenstein" lacks dramatic firepower, it does have Cushing, who delivers his customary excellence in a lacking role, as the Baron almost comes off as a supporting player in his own movie. Making the implausible authentic, Cushing is fun to watch, emphasizing the character's thirst for scientific breakthrough, while bantering lightly with Morris, who has his moments as Hertz. The ensemble moves as instructed, with acts of bullying and fear on the menu, and while performances register as intended, "Frankenstein Created Woman" aches for more Cushing.