Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein is the kind of cinema where monsters get more sympathy than politicians and Gothic arches double as spiritual therapy. For decades, his imagination has lived rent-free in pop culture’s most haunted corridors. Now, with this long-awaited adaptation, the director has resurrected his lifelong obsession in a spectacle so grand it turned Venice into a cathedral of applause. The monster rose, and so did the audience.

Because sometimes saints wear halos, and sometimes they wear bolts in their neck, either way, they make people stand for 15 minutes straight.

Frankenstein was not just a screening; it was cinematic liturgy. Debuting at the Venice Film Festival, it held the crowd spellbound until they thundered with a 15-minute ovation. Oscar Isaac embodied Dr. Victor Frankenstein while Jacob Elordi embodied his doomed creation, their tragic duet fusing grand opera with bruised humanity. As Boris Karloff once defined monsters for a century, Guillermo Del Toro’s vision redefined them anew. 

The applause did not just linger; it crowned. Guillermo Del Toro, already clutching a Golden Lion and Oscar in his career chest, bowed deeply as the adoration stretched on. Frankenstein was hailed as a dream decades in the making, Mary Shelley’s text re-forged in fire and myth. It was Venice saying yes, finally, to the director’s lifelong cathedral. It was a coronation, with the monster alive and the maestro reigning supreme.

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And while Venice crowned a monster, the festival also invited chaos, as other films cracked open controversies no applause could silence.

Venice was not all cathedral bells and monster hymns. Julia Roberts faced backlash for After the Hunt, a film circling abuse allegations and #MeToo minefields. Her defense? It was not a lecture, it was a provocation. Meanwhile, Nicolas Wadimoff’s Who Is Still Alive abandoned spectacle for survival, chronicling nine Palestinians in Gaza’s relentless storm. No CGI could soften their escapes. If Guillermo Del Toro resurrected fiction, Wadimoff forced viewers to endure reality’s open wound.

This year, Venice stacked its deck like a gambler unafraid of stakes. Guillermo Del Toro’s Gothic resurrection, Julia Roberts’ controversial provocation, and Nicolas Wadimoff’s raw testament all marked a lineup refusing compromise. From Oscar-winners to agitators, every film arrived armed with intent. Cinema is alive, yes, but it is restless, political, and defiant. Venice did not just host premieres; it staged collisions, baptisms, and battles under the same cinematic sky. Applause and outrage, side by side.

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What are your thoughts on Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein inspiring a 15-minute ovation and turning Venice into a cathedral of cinema? Let us know in the comments below.