The monster's birth scene in "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein" is a microcosm of the film's strengths and weaknesses. The creature and his creator wrestle in a mesmerizing but awkward dance through the laboratory, slick with the creature's birth fluid. Branagh's interpretation of the Frankenstein story is thematically sound and visually arresting, though often gruesome. Yet its director/star/co-producer is never able to wrestle the film, its camera or script into a graceful waltz.

Mary Shelley's story, recreated in its late 18th century splendor, is wellknown. A young medical student succeeds in bringing to life a body he has created from a collection of corpses. This new Adam, hungry for guidance from his creator, faces only Frankenstein's revulsion, and seeks revenge on his "father's" loved ones. Bereft of everything except a desire to destory his terrible creation, the scientist chases the monster over the earth to their common doom.

Francis Ford Coppola, Branagh's co-producer, apparently sought to create a lush, accessible 'literary' film in the style of his "Bram Stoker's Dracula." Yet both men would have done well to examine Branagh's own Henry V and Dead Again--films that seek to tell a compelling story well rather than to make a pretty film, and hence succeed at both.

Branagh apparently spent more time pumping iron and tousseling his locks for the film than planning its direction. The film is almost destroyed by poor editing. Victor Frankenstein's comically bad dialogue with his monster and his fiancee is drawn out painfully. We can't bear to listen to gems like the monster's vow, "Frankenstein, I will have my revenge!" or Frankenstein's lament, "What have I done?" Yet the opening sequences, where his strange passion for dark science and his devotion to his family should be established, leave us with the dizzying sensation that we are watching yet another of the trailers for this eagerly anticipated film. Ten minutes into the movie, we are waiting for the real film to start--and it sure looks great from the previews!

Helena Bonham Carter's role as Frankenstein's fiancee Elizabeth has been rewritten from Shelley's domestic angel into a well-dressed bundle of Gothic spitfire. Her courage in facing the horror of Frankenstein's unnatural creations is far greater than his own self-absorbed cowardice.

Robert De Niro has the nasty task of undergoing 12 hours of makeup to become a monster who looks like a sloppily assembled Freddy Kruger, Branagh apparently can't sew, either. De Niro does make the monster into a sympathetic human-like character, but that character bears a striking resemblance to Robert De Niro with a lisp under several pounds of latex. John Cleese and Tom Hulce are welcome diversions from Branagh's well-oiled chest.

The overall ineptness of the narration and dialogue in "Frankenstein," and its strangely schizophrenic nature should not keep audiences away. The film is certainly worth seeing, since, like its monster, it is gruesome on the surface, but wants honestly to redeem itself. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is powerful enough to make even "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein an enjoyable film. And just wait till you see its beating heart.