Three Stars for the Monster from Hell: A Love Letter to Bad Wigs and Blood Banks

Somewhere in the annals of horror history, nestled between the cerebral nightmares of The Exorcist and the gory glory of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, there is Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell—a film that proudly proclaims, “Hey, you like Peter Cushing? You like miniatures? How about some expired blood from a real blood bank?” It’s the kind of movie that feels like an old friend: slightly eccentric, kind of scrappy, but always well-dressed (even if that wig is a crime against humanity). It’s Hammer’s swan song to its beloved Frankenstein franchise, and while it never quite hits the operatic heights of its predecessors, it certainly doesn’t go down without a fight—sometimes literally, as Cushing, at 59 and in failing health, insisted on launching himself onto the back of his towering monster for a stunt.

A Last Hurrah for Hammer

By 1974, Hammer Film Productions was like a rock band trying to score a hit in a musical landscape that had moved on. The studio had ruled the horror world in the late ‘50s and ‘60s, injecting new (and frequently crimson) life into gothic tales. But by the time Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell lurched onto the screen, the world had moved on from fog-drenched castles and mad scientists with British accents. Instead, audiences wanted psychological horror, urban legends, and demonic possession. The film performed dismally at the box office, partly because of this shift, and partly because The Exorcist had just convinced everyone that true horror involved projectile vomiting and rotating heads rather than stitched-together giants rampaging through an asylum.

Yet, for all its commercial failings, this movie remains an oddly fitting farewell to Terence Fisher, Hammer’s legendary director, who helmed 29 of their films. Fisher, known for his moody, operatic take on horror, made this his last project before retiring (and eventually passing in 1980). It wasn’t his finest work, but it was unmistakably his—grimy, gothic, and filled with moments of weird brilliance.

Cushing, Prowse, and a Wig That Will Haunt You

Peter Cushing, as always, is a joy to watch, even if his styling choices leave something to be desired. The man was known for his fastidious attention to detail, meticulously designing props, sets, and even costumes to fit his characters. But this time, his wig—a bizarre, thinning mop of hair that he later joked made him look like Helen Hayes—became its own horror element. Still, Cushing is every bit the steely-eyed, morally bankrupt Baron Frankenstein we know and love. He plays the role with the kind of dignity that suggests he’s starring in Hamlet, not a movie where he bites down on a severed artery to stop the bleeding (with real, expired blood, no less—method acting at its most unsanitary).

David Prowse, best known to the world as Darth Vader’s physical form, reprises his role as Frankenstein’s creation, having previously played another Hammer monster in The Horror of Frankenstein. Unfortunately for him, this iteration of the creature is not an imposing, tragic beast but rather a lumbering, furry neanderthal with plastic-y features. Co-star Shane Briant, upon being asked what he thought of the costume, reportedly tried to be polite and said, “The feet are fantastic!” only for Prowse to reply, “They’re mine.” Sometimes, the best acting is just keeping a straight face.

A Box Office Bust, But a Cult Classic in the Making

Critics were, at best, indifferent to Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell. The Monthly Film Bulletin lamented that it felt like a step down from Fisher’s best work, and Time Out called it a disappointment. But the film had its defenders. Some praised its return to the gothic aesthetic, even if the monster looked like a rejected Sesame Street character. Years later, The Hammer Story: The Authorised History of Hammer Films called it “a haunting, melancholy swansong” for both Fisher and the Hammer Frankenstein series. That’s a fancy way of saying, “It didn’t make much money, but some of us still really like it.”

Perhaps the most damning sign of its lackluster impact was its delayed release. In Spain, for example, it didn’t hit theaters until 2005—31 years after its initial run—playing in just one Barcelona cinema. By 2016, its re-release was down to a single-day screening, which, frankly, is the kind of thing that would probably make Frankenstein himself sigh and start tidying up his lab for another experiment.

A Worthy Final Chapter (With a Few Stitches Coming Loose)

So, is Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell a misunderstood masterpiece? Not exactly. But is it a terrible movie? Not at all. It’s the kind of film you watch on a stormy night with a glass of wine (or, if you’re feeling method, some real expired blood), marveling at Peter Cushing’s ability to elevate even the silliest of premises with sheer gravitas. It’s weird, messy, and strangely endearing—a true relic of an era when horror was drenched in fog and British accents, rather than found footage and jump scares.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ (3/5)

#MonsterMishaps #CushingCarriesIt #FrankensteinsFinale #HammerHorrorForever #WigOfTerror #ExpiredBloodMethodActing #DavidProwseDeservedBetter #GothicButGoofy