Found Footage, Lost Patience
Every few years, someone looks at the found footage genre and thinks, “You know what this needs? Less logic, less tension, and more Arctic snow.” Thus, The Frankenstein Theory (2013) was born — a movie so convinced it’s groundbreaking that it forgets to actually, well, be good.
Directed by Andrew Weiner, this cinematic snowdrift follows a group of filmmakers who decide to prove that Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was secretly a documentary. What could possibly go wrong? (Hint: everything, including the decision to make this film.)
It’s “The Blair Witch Project” meets “Nova Special: Mythical Monsters of Manitoba,” but without the scares, the science, or the sense that anyone involved knew how to hold a camera.
The Premise: A Monster Theory, or Theoretical Monster
Our hero — if you can call him that — is Professor Jonathan Venkenheim (Kris Lemche), a man who looks like he got lost on his way to a steampunk convention. He believes that Frankenstein was not fiction but a historical cover-up of his ancestor’s scientific achievements. It’s an intriguing concept… until he starts talking.
Venkenheim is the kind of academic who explains every theory like he’s auditioning for a TED Talk no one asked for. His grand claim? His ancestor Johann Frankenstein was actually the first geneticist. Yes, apparently before DNA was discovered, old Johann was stitching corpses together and calling it biology. Somewhere, Gregor Mendel is rolling in his pea plants.
So Venkenheim hires a small documentary crew to follow him to the Arctic, where he hopes to find the creature still wandering the tundra. Because if there’s one thing immortal monsters love, it’s hanging out in Canada.
The Crew: Doomed and Dumb in Equal Measure
Every found footage movie needs a ragtag group of likable idiots, and The Frankenstein Theory doesn’t disappoint — at least on the idiot front.
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Vicky, the director, is here to give stern looks and make sure someone says, “Are we still rolling?” before they die.
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Eric, the producer, has all the charisma of an empty thermos.
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Brian, the sound guy, exists solely to shout, “What was that?!” every time someone sneezes.
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Luke, the cameraman, is the only one who seems to remember that holding a camera steady is technically part of his job.
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And then there’s Karl, their rugged guide, played by Timothy V. Murphy, who’s clearly the only person with survival instincts — which means he’s destined to die first.
It’s a cast of characters so bland you start rooting for frostbite.
Act I: The Setup (or, A Group of People Who Deserve What’s Coming)
Things start out with some promise. There’s a spooky old man named Clarence (Joe Egender), who claims to have survived an attack by the creature. He rants, shakes, and delivers the only bit of genuine tension in the entire movie. For about three minutes, you think, “Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad.”
Then the group drives north, and all hope freezes solid. What follows is ninety minutes of people arguing about maps, gas, and whether the monster believes in God. The “documentary” footage is shot like a cross between The Office and an REI commercial, with dialogue so stiff it could double as a ski pole.
At one point, they actually stop to discuss the Illuminati’s role in Frankenstein’s experiments. When your horror movie starts sounding like a Reddit conspiracy thread, it’s time to pack it up.
Act II: The Arctic Circle (and the Circle of Poor Decisions)
Once they reach the Arctic, things get “spooky.” By “spooky,” I mean they hear distant howls, see vague shadows, and complain about the cold — which, to be fair, might be the scariest part of filming in Canada.
Venkenheim insists they’re close to finding the creature, pointing to some bones as proof. (They could belong to anything — moose, reindeer, the plot of this movie — but sure, let’s call it science.)
When their snowmobiles start disappearing and they find a yurt full of bones, panic sets in. You’d expect this to be the part where tension ramps up, but instead we get philosophical arguments about “the nature of man.” Meanwhile, the camera shakes like it’s been mounted to a blender.
Karl, the only competent adult, wisely decides to leave to investigate. Moments later, he’s dead. (Classic horror rule: Never split up unless you’re tired of being in the movie.)
Act III: Everyone Dies, Eventually
After Karl’s death, the rest of the crew spirals into paranoia. The monster kills them one by one — off-screen, of course, because apparently CGI snow was the entire budget.
Luke the cameraman disappears, Brian gets mauled, Eric panics, and Venkenheim decides this is the perfect time to reason with the creature. He insists it’s intelligent and just lonely — you know, like Frankenstein’s version of a misunderstood Tinder user.
When he finally encounters the monster, it doesn’t go well. Venkenheim tries to “make contact” and promptly gets ripped to pieces like a clearance sale mannequin. It’s all off-camera, naturally, leaving us to imagine a much better movie happening just out of frame.
The film ends with the monster abducting Vicky, the director, and trudging off into the snow with her limp body and a creepy doll. Roll credits. Cue audience confusion.
The Monster: The Real Mystery
Let’s talk about the creature — or rather, the complete lack of one. For most of the film, we’re told it’s there. We see tracks, shadows, and maybe an elbow in the distance, but the actual monster appears for roughly six seconds. When it finally shows up, it looks like someone’s uncle who got lost during a Halloween costume contest.
The big reveal lands with the impact of a snowflake on a frozen pond. You’ve spent an hour waiting for this legendary beast, and what you get looks like Sasquatch with a hangover.
It’s less “The Modern Prometheus” and more “The Mildly Irritated Mountain Man.”
Themes: Science, Faith, and Filmmaking Regret
The film tries to juggle heavy ideas — creation, hubris, the morality of playing God — but fumbles them all like a drunk Frankenstein dropping his tools.
Venkenheim is supposed to be a tragic visionary, but he’s written like a conspiracy theorist who got tenure. His obsession with proving Frankenstein’s existence is never believable, because the film never sells us on the stakes. What happens if he’s right? A Nobel Prize? A stern email from the Illuminati?
Meanwhile, the found footage format — once a clever way to make horror feel real — feels like a crutch here. Every time someone says, “Keep filming!” as another person dies, you can almost hear the director whisper, “Please, God, let this count as a third act.”
Final Thoughts: Frankenstein’s Monster Deserved Better
The Frankenstein Theory had potential. The idea of reimagining Shelley’s novel as historical fact could have been brilliant — a horror mockumentary that blends science and myth. Instead, it’s a long, dreary trudge through snow and stupidity, with characters you can’t remember and scares you can’t feel.
If the goal was to make a realistic documentary about boredom and frostbite, then congratulations — it’s a masterpiece. But as a horror film, it’s deader than Frankenstein’s first draft.
Final Verdict: ★★☆☆☆
A found-footage flop that proves even the greatest monsters can’t survive bad writing, The Frankenstein Theory is 90% snow, 10% yelling, and 0% fun.
It’s not scary. It’s not smart. It’s not even wrong — it’s just… cold. Watching it feels like being trapped in a freezer with film students arguing about philosophy.
Call it The Frankenstein Theory, but the only real theory here is how this movie ever got made.
