‘Lisa Frankenstein’ Review: Chivalry is Undead in Zelda Williams and Diablo Cody’s ‘80s-Set Coming-of-Age Horror Comedy

It’s a thought that has plagued anyone who has ever been interested in a man: “I can fix him.” Whether he’s emotionally unavailable or physically unattainable, there is an impulse to believe that you are the only person who can change that one guy. In Zelda Williams’ directorial debut, Lisa Frankenstein, she takes this premise a step further–what if the guy who needs fixing is a Victorian-Era bachelor who happens to rise from the dead? It’s a fun, inventive idea that flips the script on the gender dynamics often present in science fiction and horror films attempting to riff on Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein.” Instead of centering a man and his creation of the ideal woman, Williams and screenwriter Diablo Cody imagine how a confused, creative, and rage-filled teenage girl might nurse a dead man from the past back to life. While Lisa Frankenstein may lack the punch and polish required to deem it an instant classic, Williams and Cody have crafted a memorable coming-of-age horror comedy for a new generation. 

It’s 1989, and Lisa Swallows (Kathryn Newton) doesn’t seem to know an iota about the things that make life as a teenage girl any easier. She’s a loner with a frizzy, untamed perm and the wrong shade of blush, being dragged by her gregarious, gorgeous step-sister Taffy (Hollywood newcomer Liza Soberano) to the “first critical rager of the year.” While Taffy is “Junior Miss Hawaiian Tropic” and on the cheerleading squad, Lisa spends her free time within the wrought iron gates of the abandoned Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery, tending to the grave of an unnamed, unmarried man who died in 1837. As Taffy and Lisa drive to the party, it becomes even more apparent that the two girls could not be more different, recalling traces of the dynamic between Jennifer and Needy in Cody and Karyn Kusama’s misunderstood feminist cult classic Jennifer’s Body. We also learn that the two are relatively new step-sisters, as Taffy tells a friend that her mom, Janet (Carla Gugino), married Lisa’s dad, Dale (Joe Chrest), six months after Lisa witnessed an ax murderer kill her mother. The murder itself feels like a bit of a red herring, but it’s the reason that Lisa wasn’t able to speak for three months, and she still hasn’t really found her voice since. At the party, we get a sense of Lisa’s type (and Cody’s comedic tone) when we meet her crush, Michael Trent (Henry Eikenberry), a Judd Nelson look-alike and the head of the school’s literary magazine, who tells Lisa that her poetry reminds him of Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton while wearing a t-shirt with a Nietzsche quote (of course). Lisa is an old soul who loves people of the past, and Cody’s script includes a joke that Lisa thinks of G.W. Pabst when she sees “Pabst Blue Ribbon” on a shirt, not PBR. It’s only natural that she’s interested in a world other than her own. Cody’s specific writing style and knack for comedic dialogue is strongest in the film’s early scenes to establish character. It’s an acquired taste, but when the references land, the film feels most like a burgeoning cult classic.

When Lisa returns home from the party and a thunderstorm crackles outside, Williams incorporates a black-and-white dream sequence that brings Lisa out of ‘80s pop and into the Victorian era, where she dons a hairstyle that evokes the Bride of Frankenstein as a victrola plays. This scene connects to the film’s playful, shadow puppet-inspired title sequence that depicts the life of a jilted piano player in the 1800s who died when he was struck by lightning. Similarly, on the night of the party, lightning strikes a tombstone in Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery, awakening that same man who had been dead for over 100 years. These confident, creative flourishes that play with gothic literature conventions and the natural draw that teenage girls feel towards men of the past mark Williams as an exciting new filmmaker to watch and the perfect collaborator for Cody’s horror-comedy sensibilities.      

The world of the film is perfectly ‘80s, with the squiggly shapes and lines of Memphis Design, fiber optic lamps, and dayglo colors fitting of the Lisa Frank pun in the film’s title. It’s especially apparent in Lisa’s home, where we first meet her wicked stepmother, Janet. Gugino channels the camp of Joan Cusack in Addams Family Values if she were clad in neon instead of pastels. She wears a leotard inspired by Jane Fonda’s workout videos and listens to cassettes about the woes of being an empath while holding a dirty martini. She and Taffy want the family to have bonding time, but Lisa decides to stay home alone when they invite her to a movie. It’s then that the dead man whose grave Lisa has been visiting comes crashing into her home. At first, she’s terrified of him as he wreaks havoc and lumbers along clumsily, but quickly, she seems to have an implicit understanding of him, even though he can’t say a word to her. 

After Lisa dresses her undead companion, dubbed “The Creature” (a grunting Cole Sprouse), in a Violent Femmes t-shirt and gets used to his rancid smell, she starts to open up to him just as she did when she visited his grave. She doesn’t think of him as a potential suitor but simply as a companion who will listen to her. For Lisa, thinking about death and being around death seems to open her up in ways that being around the living cannot. Newton (Freaky, Big Little Lies) is a perfect Scream Queen as Lisa, leaning into the character’s early awkward qualities and convincingly transforming into a more outgoing, extroverted version of herself as she finds her confidence spending time with The Creature. Not only does Lisa start to speak up for herself more often and explore her sexuality, she also finds a new sense of style and an over-the-top wardrobe that today’s vintage shops would kill to acquire. The needle-drops to accompany her boost in confidence create the perfect soundtrack to Lisa’s journey of self-discovery. From Echo and the Bunnymen’s “Lips Like Sugar,” to “Up the Down Escalator” from The Chameleons to REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling,” the music creates an atmosphere akin to John Hughes classics like Sixteen Candles and Weird Science. You will also never be able to hear “On the Wings of Love,” the same way ever again.    

The film escalates from a wacky teen comedy to a completely off-the-wall tale that is an uneven blend of a coming-of-age story, a horror comedy, and a revenge fantasy. Tonally, the film isn’t consistent, and I often wished it would lean even harder into its morbid, campy moments to push the story forward and to say something sharper and more specific. The body horror is particularly inspired, though. The Creature has a few missing body parts (e.g., an ear, a hand) and together, he and Lisa, decide to go on a killing spree to collect them from the living. Like a living version of Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, Lisa is a seamstress and sews The Creature’s new body parts on him after they collect them together. With the help of Taffy’s broken tanning bed, The Creature’s new sewn-on parts are zapped into permanence. At first, she’s hesitant, “You’re a man, not a Chrysler LeBaron,” but then she joins him excitedly, as if he’s ignited her previously untapped teenage rage. Like The Creature, the script begins to feel like a collection of disparate parts and ideas that struggle to come together to form something cohesive.

While some of the film’s best comedic moments involve Lisa and The Creature, the film shines brightest in the moments between Lisa and Taffy. The film begins to unravel the typical step-sister trope, only to leave the audience wanting a bit more. Soberano nails the role of Taffy, as she not only leans into the archetypal characteristics of a cheerleader in a high school comedy but also elevates the film’s dialogue into genuinely memorable comedy. When asked to describe her mother, she goes into great detail, helpfully recalling her “square cut French manicure” and her signature scent (Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds) before a perfect comedic delivery of, “Yeah, she’s a bitch.” It’s a star-making turn that made me feel nostalgic for my favorite high school comedies (namely, Bring It On) and excited that a new generation will have an actress like Soberano to star in theirs. 

While The Creature may be unable to speak to Lisa, he cares for her in a way that none of the living characters in the film can manage. He listens to her, protects her, and allows her to exact her unabashed rage towards those who’ve wronged her. It’s unfortunate then that the film feels like it’s building to a final, clear biting point that just doesn’t arrive. Even with its flaws, though, Lisa Frankenstein is an often endearing film that is totally unafraid of its strangeness. It’s too early to tell if it will become a cult classic in the same way that Jennifer’s Body did, but it’s a strong reminder that horror-comedies that center young women and their desires are far from dead. 

Grade: B-

Focus Features will release Lisa Frankenstein only in theaters on February 9.