Henry, nursed by Elizabeth and his father, has returned to health by this time. Finally ready to marry Elizabeth, their wedding day is marred by little Maria’s death and the monster’s sudden attack on Elizabeth. Say, how’d he know where Frankenstein lived? Beginning with Maria’s father’s solemn walk through the singing and dancing villagers carrying her little limp body, leading to the hasty assemblage of torch-wielding mobs to hunt down the monster, and finally ending with Henry’s confrontation with his now loathed creation, the film moves to its incendiary climax at the old windmill in a lively fashion. Henry and his creation have a dad and son reunion that leaves both apparently dead, but never say die when boffo box-office receipts are involved.

It took four years and lots of coaxing to get the reluctant Whale to direct the sequel, Bride of Frankenstein. Karloff, who acted in over eighty films before finally hitting stardom in Frankenstein, in spite of sustaining severe back injuries manhandling Henry in the first film, was eager to reprise his star role. Dwight Frye, whom Whale liked very much, definitely dead after the first film, was given a new role--sort of. He will now play Karl, the murdering, club-footed assistant to Dr. Pretorius. Colin Clive is back, too, as the even more morose and unbalanced Henry Frankenstein, still looking for peace of mind after his near fatal fall from the windmill. Clive unluckily broke his leg before filming began, forcing him to be seated in his scenes. It’s Ernest Thesiger as the effete, nefarious Dr. Pretorius who steals the show this time around, though.

Originally intended for Claude Rains, Whale preferred the melodramatic Thesiger in the role of the malevolent doctor, and his choice has stood the test of time. Thesiger’s Pretorius is a flamboyant, superficially whimsical yet deeply sinister gentleman dabbling in dark alchemical arts. He knows he’s naughty and he likes it!

Whale was practically given carte blanche to do the film his way, and boy did he want to shake conventional things up a bit and add his eccentric wit to the mix. Bride of Frankenstein, under his keen direction, is part parody, part satire, and all quintessential spook show theatrics, providing him with a lucrative opportunity to poke fun at domestic relationships and his highly successful first horror film.

His decision to have the monster speak, albeit rudimentarily, did not sit well with Karloff, who felt a speaking monster would lose the audience’s sympathy; but again, time appears to have settled that point also. Karloff’s guttural growls and halting speech bring greater depth to the monster as he reveals his feelings of disgust with the living and his need for a friend.