Universal Pictures’ Son of Frankenstein (1939), the third chapter in its iconic horror saga, delivers a chilling gothic experience that, while not matching the brilliance of its predecessors, stands tall thanks to a stellar cast and striking visuals. Directed by Rowland V. Lee, this film introduces Basil Rathbone as Baron Wolf von Frankenstein, son of the infamous creator, who returns to his ancestral home with ambitions to redeem his father’s legacy—only to unleash chaos once more.
The cast is the film’s beating heart. Rathbone commands the screen with a mix of aristocratic poise and obsessive fervor, while Bela Lugosi steals every scene as Ygor, the crooked-necked shepherd with a sinister agenda. Lugosi’s portrayal is a career highlight, dripping with menace and cunning, making Ygor one of the franchise’s most memorable additions. Boris Karloff, in his final outing as the Monster, still evokes sympathy with his soulful eyes and lumbering frame, and Lionel Atwill’s Inspector Krogh adds a dash of stern charm (and a wooden arm) to the mix. This ensemble elevates the film beyond its script, bringing life to the shadowy halls of Frankenstein’s world.
Visually, Son of Frankenstein excels with its atmospheric production design. The expressionistic sets—towering castle walls, slanted shadows, and a cavernous laboratory—create a haunting backdrop that’s pure Universal horror. Cinematographer George Robinson bathes these scenes in moody light, amplifying the gothic dread that fans crave. It’s a feast for the eyes, even if the sparks in the lab don’t fly as high as they did in Bride of Frankenstein.
The introduction of Ygor is a masterstroke, adding a fresh twist to the series. No longer just a tragic figure, the Monster becomes a pawn in Ygor’s vengeful schemes, shifting the narrative into darker, more manipulative territory. Lugosi’s gravelly voice and twisted grin make Ygor an instant icon, proving the franchise still had new horrors to unearth.
Yet, for all its strengths, Son of Frankenstein stumbles with the Monster’s reduced role. Karloff’s creature, once the emotional core of the series, is sidelined here—mute, less expressive, and stripped of the agency that made him unforgettable. He’s more a looming threat than a character, a shadow of the tragic soul who spoke and wept in Bride. This diminishment robs the film of the deeper pathos that defined its predecessors, leaving Karloff’s final bow as the Monster bittersweet but underwhelming.
In the end, Son of Frankenstein is a worthy, if not transcendent, addition to Universal’s horror legacy. It thrives on its cast’s brilliance, its eerie aesthetics, and Ygor’s chilling presence, but falters by relegating the Monster to the background. For fans of classic horror, it’s a must-see—flawed, yet undeniably captivating.