Lisa Frankenstein (2024)

Lisa Frankenstein arrives in 1989 by way of a lightning strike, a tanning bed, and the goodwill of Diablo Cody's back catalogue. Zelda Williams directs her feature debut with a fondness for pastel gore, and the result is a romantic comedy horror picture that cannot decide whether it wants to be Jennifer's Body or Weird Science, so it settles for being both at half volume. Kathryn Newton plays the grieving teenager, Cole Sprouse plays the silent Victorian corpse she keeps in her closet, and the film proceeds with the confidence of something that has not yet been told no.

The social consciousness on display is present but gentle. A female protagonist carries the story, a predatory lab partner and a belittling stepmother are dispatched with satisfaction, and the film's sympathies sit squarely with misunderstood girls. Liza Soberano, a Filipina actress, plays the stepsister Taffy with warmth, though the film never asks her to be anything but pleasant. There is a faint current of body acceptance in the Creature's shame over his missing parts, and a fainter one about teenage oddballs finding each other. None of it is argued. None of it is preached.

The film's omissions are as telling as its inclusions. There is no environmental sermon, no indictment of wealth, no revisionist reading of the 1980s, no queer subtext, no lecture. The camp is sincere camp, the gore is played for laughs, and the messaging, such as it is, stays in the subtext where it belongs. A picture that champions weirdos without explaining why they need champions. Refreshing, if slight.