‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ or — Funnier Than Mel Brooks?
I’d heard of ‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ (1973) for several years although had absolutely no idea what it was like. Would it be gruesome? Would it be awful? Would it be risqué? Would it be daft? Turns out it’s all of those, and then some, but what it is most of all is funny… unrelentingly, gut-bustingly, deliriously funny.
It’s utterly futile to adequately describe ‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ in any human, or non-human, language but if you can imagine ‘Carry on Screaming’ (1966) directed by Tommy Wiseau containing early Peter Jackson/Brian Yuzna gore, Walerian Borowczyk eroticism, rampant sexual depravity, set design by Gustav Klimt, the greatest Baron Frankenstein performance in history and dialogue so bananas it could shatter your mind then you’ve got the tiniest sliver of an inkling of just how batty this unhinged masterpiece really is.
Baron Frankenstein (Udo Kier) is determined to create a master race, something he plans to achieve by constructing two perfect female and male zombies from various dead body parts. It’s essential that the male is in possession of a formidable libido in order to impregnate his similarly deceased mate, although when the baron accidentally attaches the head of a celibate ascetic instead of a raging nymphomaniac onto his subject it looks as though his experiment is doomed to failure.
To make matters worse his sexually neglected wife/sister is having a passionate affair with the amorous stud originally intended for the baron’s scalpel, so as her husband gets his rocks off down in his laboratory with the dead his wife is getting naughty upstairs with the living.
So we have all the necessary elements for a slice of deranged exploitation cinema and that’s certainly what we get with ‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ providing plenty of nudity, dripping viscera and Cronenberg-esque body horror wrapped around a tale of transgressive sexuality and morality. Writer/director Paul Morrissey’s direction is relatively straight forward and unshowy but some gorgeous set design and cinematography help give the visuals some real class whilst the effects work by the legendary Carlo Rimbaldi veers towards the cartoony meaning the violence is ludicrous as opposed to actively repulsive (there’s a phenomenal decapitation that’s up there with Sam Raimi at his best).
Yet the film’s shining crown jewels are Morrissey’s script and Udo Kier’s acting, both of which would individually qualify as works of comedic genius in themselves but when you combine them together the result is the greatest performance any actor has given in the 20th Century.
Every word, every line of dialogue Kier’s baron delivers is so maniacally hysterical, so overwhelmingly demented I was left frequently gasping for air every time he opened his mouth… something he, thankfully, does almost constantly. Seriously, do not eat snacks whilst watching this movie because it would constitute a potential choking hazard. Think what the baron has just exclaimed was the funniest thing you’ve ever heard? Then just wait until you hear what he says next!
This insanity reaches its apex in the scene where the baron, after he peels himself off a bloodied corpse he’s just had sex with, turns to his assistant and proclaims “To know death, Otto, you have to fuck life…in the gall bladder!” Witnessing Kier deliver that line is the closest I’ve ever come to undergoing a religious experience.
It all culminates in what is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most magnificent death scene I’ve ever clapped eyes on. Simultaneously spectacular and howlingly berserk it’s as though Kier is attempting to win both an Oscar and a Razzie at the same time. It’s genuinely astonishing.
‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ is the funniest version of the story of the mad scientist I’ve ever encountered, and that includes ‘Young Frankenstein’ (1974). It’s so nutsoid it makes Stuart Gordon’s ‘Re-Animator’ (1985) look restrained in comparison and so stark raving loco it could permanently damage your sanity.
I think it might be the greatest film I’ve ever seen.
