Monster mush

When I took a look at the slate of movies coming out in January 2014, there was a date on the calendar that I found particularly disturbing and foreboding.

That would be January 24, the release date for I, Frankenstein. I feared that date like an ardent Coke drinker with a saltwater taffy addiction and a taste for meth would fear a dental appointment.

That fear was well justified, for I, Frankenstein is a movie so bad it will affect your body chemically in a negative way, as if you ingested a chainsaw through your face. I seriously think viewing this film will have an adverse effect on your sphincter, your thyroid, your epiglottis, your self-esteem, and your ability to process mathematics. Seeing I, Frankenstein, even for a few minutes, could diminish your sperm count, cause irreversible eye fungus, and make you inconsolably sad.

OK, maybe I should talk about why the film is so crappy, and less about how it will do things like make your ears fall off and create Hell’s vortex in your left nostril.

Aaron Eckhart, in a career move that’s as fatal as the time Halle Berry said, “Sure, I’ll play Catwoman. What’s the worst that could happen?” plays Adam Frankenstein, a.k.a. Frankenstein’s Monster. Adam—and I’m going to just call him Adam for the purposes of this review because it’s cute—has led a lonely, undead life for the hundreds of years since he was first stitched together and brought to life by crazy science involving electric eels.

Adam has spent those years scowling a lot, and hitting demons with sticks like some sort of super ninja. His look has progressed from gothic longhaired badass to clean cut, but probably stinky, metrosexual, replete with a hoodie/trench coat that is just to die for. Really, Adam’s coat is the best thing about the movie, and I confess to wanting one.

The film takes place in modern day England, where some sort of demon prince (Bill Nighy … OF COURSE!) wants to create an army of Frankenstein Monsters so that he may defeat some sort of gargoyle army that equates to the good guys in this movie. I’m not making this up—demons vs. gargoyles aided by a semi-reluctant Adam Frankenstein in a kickass jacket. That’s the plot.

Eckhart doesn’t crack a smile for the whole movie. He never once changes his expression, which might make sense in a Frankenstein sort of way, but makes for monotonous movie viewing. His every line is delivered with a growly croak that sounds like he’s trying to take first place at a movie trailer voiceover contest, or first place in an over earnest, far-too-dramatic, completely vacuous douche contest. He’d probably win the latter.

Did I mention that there were gargoyles in this movie? The Gargoyle Order, or whatever the hell it is, is led by Leonore, played by once promising Lord of the Rings actress Miranda Otto. When Leonore switches from human to gargoyle form, her chest is void of nipples, for this is a PG-13 rated movie, and we just won’t stand for that sort of thing.

There are various poorly staged 3-D battles between demons and gargoyles, and I honestly had no freaking idea what was really going on. I know the demons looked like they were wearing dollar store Halloween masks, and they were trying to fight for the journal of Victor Frankenstein for the recipe on how to reanimate humans. (I think one of the ingredients was coriander.)

As for the post-production 3-D, it is the worst I’ve ever seen. It’s a big mess up there on the screen, with the once reliable Eckhart presiding over it.

No, seriously, what the hell were the producers thinking when they set about making this thing? Putting a new twist on Frankenstein is one thing, but turning him into an ab-tastic ninja with a surly attitude, sexy scars and snappy hoodie is truly pushing it.

I, Frankenstein? More like I, Frankly-blow-ass!