“Can you contain your fire, Prometheus, or will you burn your hands?” The line is spoken by Christoph Waltz’s polymath gentlemen of curiosities, a 19th century military-industrial baron who got rich off the Crimean War, and whose hobbies get in the way of his other hobbies. He is bankrolling Victor Frankenstein’s grand vision of ‘playing god,’ restoring life to dead tissue, without restraint, but on one mysterious condition. The line is also the filmmaking mission statement for Guillermo del Toro’s sprawling and opulent rendition of the speculative fiction classic. Mary Shelley’s iconic novel, along with H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness, are two mega-projects that the director has been slaving away at for years. If you excuse the mixed literary and historical metaphors,...
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