What does one do with identity? The very idea of identity has been the central thought for films and stories since the inception of either medium. Mary Shelley’s genre defining science fiction novel “Frankenstein” might just be the earliest example of a work taking that thought of identity and truly poking at and questioning it for a broad audience. Filmmakers and other writers have taken her tale and morphed it into their own visions for decades since, and now a new, bold, and unique take on the tale after that tale has arrived. “The Bride!” has arrived.
The film stars Jessie Buckley (“Women Talking,” “Hamnet”) in dual roles as Mary Shelley, the author of “Frankenstein,” and Penelope Rogers, the woman who would become the titular Bride. After an accident leads to Penelope’s death, she is revived by Dr. Cornelia Euphronious, played by Anette Benning (“The Kids Are All Right,” “Nyad”), and Frankenstein, played by Christian Bale (“The Dark Knight,” “America Psycho”). Frankenstein is looking for a companion, and soon takes the Bride as his own, with the pair on the run across the country from mobsters and cops. Among those chasing them are detectives Jake Wiles and Myrna Malloy, played by Peter Sarsgaard (“Shattered Glass,” “Jackie (2016)”) and Penélope Cruz (“Volver,” “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”) respectively, and Clyde, played by John Magaro (“The Big Short,” “First Cow”), a mobster associate and then man responsible for the accident that killed Penelope.
Regardless of your thoughts on the rest of the film, make no mistake: this is Buckley’s film and she absolutely steals the show. Her almost bipolar kind of performance here borders on transformative and takes what could have been a schlocky B movie into… well a shlocky B movie with a genuine fantastic lead performance. She’s electric, pun entirely intended, and her physicality is unmatched throughout. She also somehow manages to have note perfect chemistry with herself thanks to the all too brief interjections from Buckley’s portrayal of Shelley. Bale is also great, although in a far more restrained kind of way compared to Buckley’s role. They play excellently together and manage to twist this tale into a genuinely bitter love story by the end. Benning, while underutilized, is also great as a wild haired mad scientist that certainly fits into the archetypical mold, but still allows the actress to have plenty of fun with the material.
Outside of them, the rest of the cast seems far more satisfied to take the paycheck and leave. Sarsgaard and Cruz aren’t bad, but their roles feel so cookie-cutter that they almost seem like the kind of stereotypical detective roles trotted out for improv shows or Mad Magazine bits. At one point, one of them literally says “I picked a bad day to start drinking” and that’s all you need to know about their performances. Magaro meanwhile is fine enough, but the film simply forgets he exists for a large part of the plot, and the mobster element already isn’t one that’s particularly engaging.
What is engaging though is the film’s vision of this twisted early 1930s Chicago. There’s an almost steampunk aspect to the environment, and colors pop in virtually every scene. Costume Design lead by Sandy Powell (“The Favourite (2018,” “Hugo”) is thoroughly inspired and instantly iconic, particularly with Penelope’s striking orange dress and black formaldehyde stain streaking across her mouth. It’s a dizzying visual identity that is certainly writer/director Maggie Gyllenhaal’s (“The Lost Daughter,” “The Dark Knight”) clear vision. That vision will likely be the most divisive aspect of the film writ large, as it’s a clear and uncompromising tale, reinterpreting and recontextualizing the idea of the Bride with a more modern, revolutionary, feminist point of view.
The earliest aspects of the film, particularly the entire first half, are when it works best. There’s a loose and frenetic energy that makes the film work well as midnight movie fare: lots of thoughts thought very loudly, but with purposefully less internal logic. Hildur Guðnadóttir’s (“Joker,” “Chernobyl”) score backs this up, as it pulses and thumps throughout Frank and Penelope’s adventure, setting a purposefully anarchic rhythm to these events. The latter half, when things morph into more of a “Bonnie and Clyde” type story, are when things just become less interesting.
Gyllenhaal clearly has a lot of converging ideas she wants to fit into this story. The feminist revolutionary aspects, punctuated by a movement Penelope spurs on with the phrase “Brain Attack,” seems initially like the strongest throughline until it is forgotten in the second half. Frank’s love of movies, to the point where he cures a borderline panic attack by going to the theater, is actually the stronger central idea, eventually culminating in the film’s best scene involving a mind-control impromptu dance sequence at a crashed party. That is the only aspect truly kept intact once the scattershot second half begins, as almost all of the truly oddball identity, including the arresting and all too brief moments with Buckley as Shelley, stop. It’s up to Buckley and Bale to carry that latter half and luckily they do manage to prevent it from completely collapsing in on itself.
“The Bride!” is a title punctuated with an exclamation point and Gyllenhaal’s version of this story is clearly one she wants to tell loudly. If nothing else, Buckley’s exhilarating central performance makes this worth watching, and the jumbling of ideas certainly crafts its own identity. It’s a shame that identity can’t be carried for the entire runtime, but for all the peaks and valleys on display here, it’s still unlike pretty much anything else you’re going to see in a movie theater this year. It’s a bold film that absolutely buckles under the weight of its own self-referential ambitions. But like its titular undead lead, its just throws that broken arm around as it keeps on dancing. 3.5/5
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