Despite Aaron Eckhart’s definitive portrayal of Mary Shelley’s iconic beast in Yo, Frankenstein, filmmakers remain committed to realizing the gothic horror novel on-screen.

The latest incarnation of the 1818 novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, from writer/director Guillermo del Toro, feels reverent despite several changes. Some are big, like reimaginging Elizabeth Lavenza (Mia Goth) as Victor’s (Oscar Issac) brother William’s (Felix Kammerer) fiancée. Others, smaller, such as giving Victor only one brother. However, the feature retains the traditional skeleton of the Frankenstein myth. Del Toro isn’t interested in creating a subversion or pastiche of the novel. His classical take on the tale ultimately proves a problem for the project.

Victor, haunted by the premature death of his mother and desperate to leave his stamp on history, yearns to bring people back from the dead. He begins his frenzied quest to reanimate the deceased power by exorbitant funding from war profiteer Henrich Harlander (Christopher Waltz). Finally, on a stormy, lightning-filled night, he realizes his vision. Into this world comes The Creature (Jacob Elordi), a childlike being with immense strength and a vocabulary limited to the word “Victor.”

So follows a rudimentary, chronological retelling of the Frankenstein story, hitting all the expected beats, including interactions between The Creature and an elderly Blind Man (David Bradley) that guide the former toward knowledge and compassion. In addition to being textually loyal, the film becomes a Del Toro greatest hits compilation. Once more, a conventionally attractive lady shares tender moments with a “ghastly” beast. Humanity’s barbarism is constantly on full display. Goth even briefly dons Crimson Peak cosplay for a sneaky nighttime rendezvous.

This merger tips the adaptation into too familiar for its own good. As a result, there’s a shocking dearth of vigor. Instead, everything oozes with stultifying veneration. The director who once boldly put his stamp on Hellboy and Pinocchio offers no such audacious subversions here.

It doesn’t help that this new Frankenstein spends an interminable amount of time on Victor. As in Shelley’s original, the adaptation begins with a weary Victor recounting his life to a ship captain. Roughly half of the 150-minute runtime, then, concerns the machinations of bringing The Creature to life. Despite Isaac’s commendable performance, this version of Victor isn’t compelling. He works neither as tragic character nor fascinatingly devious villain. He remains stubbornly one-note, no matter how long the camera lingers on him.

It’s no wonder the movie perks up once The Creature’s perspective is center stage. Compared to tedious material concerning the tenuousness of Victor’s financing, this resurrected secretly learning to read or silently feeding wild deer berries provides far better drama. Elordi’s performance is easily the film’s greatest accomplishment. His gradual portrayal of The Creature steadily becoming more comfortable walking and talking is itself remarkable. You really feel like you’re watching a nascent organism comprehending a wider world.

Elordi’s physicality, meanwhile, impressively and effortlessly conveys a mixture of soulfulness and intimidation. The Creature’s heart is always apparent, even alongside hints of ferocity. It suggests the soul of poet inside an entity who can shatter a man’s spinal column with one punch. Like King Kong, Elordi’s Creature is a lumbering giant always exuding tragic humanity. Sadly, the Creature sequences still suffer a flaw that dominates the entire feature: excessive narration. At times, the voiceover grows so excessive, one wonders if del Toro meant to make an audiobook. Full of flowery prose, it reinforces the film’s lack of new thematic terrain. Frustratingly, there is no justification for it.

Such a defect reflects Frankenstein’s most crushing flaw: it doesn’t work as a visual exercise. Motion pictures can make familiar ancient texts feel new again through sumptuous imagery, as with Akira Kurosawa’s Ran or last year’s Nosferatu. This effort, meanwhile, lacks precise, striking blocking or camerawork. Worse, the whole thing looks too clean for a gothic horror film. The dilapidated castle that will serve as Victor’s laboratory looks like a polished set you’d see on a Universal Studios backlot tour, not a lived-in environment. Excessive cleanliness pervades the whole enterprise, with even the muddy streets of London radiating a pristine aura.

Considering del Toro and cinematographer Dan Laustsen previously (and successfully) shot Crimson Peak on digital cameras without sacrificing an evocative atmosphere, this isn’t as simple as Frankenstein suffering from not being captured on 70mm film. Instead, the problem lies in how inescapable the darn Netflix sheen permeating so many of the streamer’s works is here. That visual element is all wrong for something supposedly channeling Robert Weine and Georges Franju. Eschewing more sensational camera angles and movements, meanwhile, lends the proceedings “respectability” but robs them of personality.

A lack of personality crops up elsewhere, including in the bizarre miscasting of Mia Goth as Elizabeth. Hiring her for a buttoned-up high-society lady—albeit one with a love for insects—is like securing Nicolas Cage to inhabit Bob Newhart. Why secure a performer known for loud maximalism if you won’t let them get wild? Elizabeth’s dryness epitomizes how little personality or bombastic flair Frankenstein lends to the non-Creature characters it insists on emphasizing.

Del Toro’s immense skills as a filmmaker ensure the movie isn’t without standout scenes. The tremendous warmth exuded in interactions between The Creature and Blind Man, for instance, is impressively moving. Additionally, costume designer Kate Hawley and the makeup crew turn in excellent work. However, those individual pieces can’t fully redeem something this excessively reticent. Del Toro’s prior efforts surprised viewers with unexpected incest plotlines, emotional gut-punch endings, or lovesick monster crooning Barry Manilow.

In contrast, the surprises are scarce here. Del Toro checks off expected narrative beats and spends too much time with uninteresting human characters. This new Frankenstein is technically alive, thanks largely to Elordi’s performance, but it too often lacks a compelling pulse.

After a current limited theatrical run, Frankenstein shakes to life on Netflix November 7.

Frankenstein Trailer: