"Tomorrow we shall initiate a new series of experiments. Something harmless, like splitting the atom, perhaps?"
Dispensing with Peter Cushing's services and intended to revitalize the series with a younger generation of stars as the studio headed into the uncertain 70s, The Horror of Frankenstein instead found itself on the wrong half of a double-bill with the inferior Scars of Dracula and much detested by many Hammer purists for its tone. Which is a great shame, because this is one of Hammer's best and most delightful latter films as long as you're not expecting the traditional horror film of the title - there may be one of the highest body counts in a Hammer film, but it's not frightening. Instead, despite a wonderfully crude moment with a reanimated hand and the odd joke at the expense of Kate O'Mara's cleavage ("You've put on weight in a couple of places"), rather than pure camp or gothic chiller, this is an elegant comedy of murders with much dry wit. If anything, the influence here is more Kind Hearts and Coronets as the presence of Dennis Price as a grave robber who leaves all the digging to his devoted wife attests. Ralph Bates' young Frankenstein is a sociopath with good table manners but no great purpose: creating life from various assorted body parts isn't a quest to free man from the shadow of mortality, it's just something he wants to do, and if that means killing a tortoise, his father or his best friend then he'll do it without his heart skipping a beat. As the sleeve notes to Anchor Bay's Region 1 DVD note, it's easy to see him as a forerunner of American Psycho's Patrick Bateman.
Although he was uncomfortable in the role, Jimmy Sangster's direction is above average for the studio at this period (their once-top director Terence Fisher's drinking having led by this time to a significant drop in the quality of his work), and the film looks better than a lot of the later Hammers. Despite the traditional 19th Century setting, it's very much of its time, even offering digs at the British welfare state (which makes finding bodies so much harder these days, what with people living longer) and the permissive generation (Victor sees no reason to get married when he can have sex with the hired help whenever he wants and merely sees Veronica Carlson's smitten heroine as a potential housekeeper). It's also quite anarchic in its own way, breaking with the expectations of the Hammer formula. The forces of good are completely powerless, retribution is not handed out and evil goes unpunished at the movie's back-to-the-drawing-board end. Well, more or less...