12) I, Frankenstein
Finally, a Frankenstein movie that could have actually been made by a reanimated corpse. I, Frankenstein, this year’s most hilariously wimpy attempt to launch a franchise, makes Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer look like Gladiator by comparison. For reasons still unclear to me, it posits Frankenstein’s monster as a robotic beefcake (played by Aaron Eckhart with absolutely none of the charisma he brought to The Dark Knight‘s Harvey Dent) who is thrust into a centuries-old conflict between gargoyles and demons.
The weirdness doesn’t end there. Frankenstein, dubbed “Adam” for this take, is the chosen one, wanted by both species because he unwillingly holds the key to resurrection. There are massive battles that take place in some unnamed, Gothic metropolis that feels like a blend between New York City and New Orleans, but somehow none of the humans living there are privy to the gigantic fireballs and furious fights erupting all around them. And most weirdly of all, writer-director Stuart Beattie expects us to care, without ever giving us the slightest reason to believe I, Frankenstein has a shred of originality or creativity in its entirety.
It’s frustrating but ironic that I, Frankenstein feels cobbled together from the various body parts of better movies, including somehow Underworld. Poor Mary Shelley is no doubt rolling over in her grave.