Frankenstein (1931) at Watershed on Sunday 10th June 2018
Posted on: 06 Jun 2018It's alive! It's alive! Well, it's being screened at Watershed in Bristol to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the novel's first publication anyway. What are we talking about? Well, of course, it's Mary Shelley's timeless and terrifying classic, Frankenstein, of which the original 1931 movie version will be shown at the venue on Sunday 10th June 2018.
Directed by James Whale (who also went on to direct the equally brilliant, unnerving The Invisible Man), this is arguably the most iconic and memorable adaption from page-to-screen of the story ever put on celluloid.
Colin Clive is Frankenstein, Boris Karloff is the imposing, unforgettable Monster and the whole film is imbued with melodrama, poignancy, a moral fable about the risk of playing God, and burned-on-the-retina classic images. It also kickstarted Universal's famous monster movies (now, unsurprisingly, on the receiving end of several major Hollywood reboots).
Shocking when it was first released but still holding its power to entertain and scare, this iconic genre piece will be projected in all its potent black and white glory as part of Watershed's Frankenstein 200 June brunch season.
Kenneth Branagh's grandiose, marvelously operatic re-telling gets a screening on Sunday 17th June; while Mel Brook's hysterical Gene Wilder-starring Young Frankenstein, a simultaneous tribute and parody of Whale's original and the horror flicks of the 30s, will zap a bolt of lightening-strength hilarity on Sunday 24th June.
All films will be shown at 12pm. Gather those cadavers, stitch together those body parts and check out Watershed's fabulously ghoulish Frankenstein tribute here.
Watershed is located at 1 Canon's Road, Bristol BS1 5TX. Tel. 0117 927 5100.
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Jamie is a writer, blogger, journalist, critic, film fan, soundtrack nerd and all-round Bristolian good egg. He loves the music of Philip Glass, the art of Salvador Dali, the writings of Charles Bukowksi and Hunter S Thompson, the irreverence of Harry Hill, and the timeless, straw-chomping exuberance of The Wurzels. You can sometimes find him railing against a surging tide of passing cyclists, or gorging himself senseless on the Oriental delights of a Cosmos all-you-can-eat buffet.
