In a touching scene that almost becomes maudlin--but doesn’t, both afflicted men tearfully rejoice at their good fortune. Rembrandt lighting suffuses the faces of the old man and the monster, and flickering shadows cast by the fireplace light play about the cabin. The scene is a meticulous composition of light, darkness, music and precise motion. In the days that follow, the monster learns to speak, enjoys wine and a good cigar, though his first energetic puffs on it make him greener than he usually is.

Hunters spoil this brief respite from calamity, and the monster is once again running away from more exasperated, torch-wielding villagers. He finds shelter in a cemetery crypt, and sees Dr. Pretorius having a grand old time among the bones. Over drink they hatch a plan to force Henry to make the monster a mate. Karloff has his most introspective lines here, and delivers them perfectly. Between his studied pantomime and simple, carefully spoken words, Karloff shows us more of the monster’s personality, eliciting even more sympathy for his ill-fortune.

According to Dr. Pretorius’ plan, the monster kidnaps Elizabeth, forcing Henry to acquiesce. After finding a suitable heart, the kites are prepared as the storm approaches to harness the cosmic energy of life. The eye of the camera quickly alternates between close-ups and far shots, keeping everything lively while taking in the non-stop laboratory and roof activity.

The laboratory once again fills with frantic electrical flashes, smoky sparks, and zapping, buzzing noises. Only this time there’s much more intensity. Slanted close-ups show Henry and Dr. Pretorius--lighted from below, causing part of their faces to be buried in shadow--intently cranking levers and twirling dials as the body is raised to the storm. Of course, Karl is killed by the impatient monster after he...you guessed it! sticks a flaming torch in the monster’s face; a horrible death is a job requirement for deformed, demented lab assistants, you know.

With eager anticipation, the body is lowered. They raise the cosmic diffuser and begin to unravel the bandages. “She’s alive!” cries Henry as Waxman’s lyrical bride music is heard. As Dr. Pretorius preens and says “the bride of Frankenstein,” wedding bells start ringing, too.

Elsa Lanchester’s wild hairdo, flowing white “wedding” gown, and hissing response when the monster comes closer saying “friend?” is a campy hoot. She turns to Henry for support. The monster presses his intentions, but clearly this is not a match made in heaven. Realizing she hates him, too, he gets angry again. Stumbling upon a lever the size of a baseball bat that can blow up the laboratory--who the hell puts a lever the size of a baseball bat like that in plain site, anyway?--he tells Henry and Elizabeth, who now show up, to skedaddle. Dr. Pretorius isn’t so lucky. Frankenstein’s monster pulls the lever and blows himself, Dr. Pretorius, and his lamentable bride to atoms. Guess which one returns in Son of Frankenstein?