The popular culture trend of replicating the 1980s continues with Zelda Williams’ feature film directorial debut Lisa Frankenstein. From the initial trailer and posters leading up to the film’s release, it was clear that this was a project steeped in the bright-colored neon of the 80s; the movie explodes with vibrant production design and costumes of that time. 

This film is maximalist through and through, especially in the bedroom design of the protagonist Lisa (Kathryn Newton). Every inch of the wall is covered in Creature from the Black Lagoon posters and images of the iconic moon face from A Trip to the Moon. For this film, Williams and screenwriter Diablo Cody proudly wear their influences on their sleeve. Lisa Frankenstein revels in its stylization, and it’s all the better for it. Some sequences, including the opening credits, are fully animated in an offbeat gothic style that complements the tone perfectly. For most of this film’s run-time, it’s clear that this was a fun production for everyone involved. 

The primary issues of the film come with the story despite the script’s goofy 80s energy. The backstory of Lisa felt particularly confusing; it’s played as a joke throughout most of the movie, making me question if it had even actually happened. In an effort to escalate the stakes, the movie seems to take a massive leap around halfway through which proved jarring. The objectives of the characters are clearer after the movie concludes, but they are difficult to identify in the theater. This lack of motive creates a disconnect in the later stages of the film to the point where the film feels like it is prioritizing style over substance. Thankfully, it has more than enough style to keep things engaging even when the story hits those potholes. 

The performances complement the heightened reality in this film incredibly well. Newton rises to the challenge of leading this eccentric ensemble and showcases strong chemistry with her primary costar Cole Sprouse. While Newton has full range to show off her charisma, Sprouse, who plays The Creature, has a significantly more limited palette to work with. He is not allowed any dialogue to guide his performance, so it’s all impressively physical. The film as a whole hinges on Sprouse’s shoulders, and he passes with flying colors. The character evolves throughout the film, adding more and more layers to the performance. 

There is an infectious energy that emanates from this film that helps excuse the perpetual story issues. Williams gets to the root of what makes 1980s horror/comedy so nostalgic and addictive, and although it doesn’t rise to the same level as its influences, Lisa Frankenstein carries its absurdity with love and affection. This is a lively love letter to a generation of art, even if the subject is the undead. 

Review Courtesy of Gabe Lillianthal

Feature Image Credit to Focus Features via Vanity Fair