Light and Dark

Light and Dark

Are You Afraid of the Dark. Night of the Living Dead. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night. Nightmare on Elm Street.

Everywhere you look, it would seem that monsters (and monstrous humans) live for the nightlife and the darkest hours before the dawn. It makes sense, right? Monsters are evil, and nighttime is full of shadows and terrors.

But in this movie, the monster likes light. He'd go sunbathing if he could. It would probably heat up those bolts uncomfortably, but our monster is used to a little pain.

Director James Whale makes a lot of use of dramatic light and dark in his black and white film. Check out, for example, at the scene where the monster comes to life.

Here's a recap in case you didn't want to watch this scene again (you totally should, though: it's iconic).

The monster is on a table which is lifted towards a hole in the roof; you see a screen of blackness, illuminated by flashes of painfully bright light. Science is pushing back the borders of the unknown—or shining into places it would be better not to look.

The most symbolic use of light and dark, though, is when the monster is brought into the light for the first time. (Take a look.)

Having so far kept his creature in darkness, Frankenstein, winches open his ceiling, letting light flood down. The monster lifts his arms up, like he's trying to fly like Supermonster…or like he's trying to grab the light. Then Frankenstein turns off the light again, and the monster looks pathetically sad and at a loss. Poor monster—he keeps flexing his hands like he's trying to hold the light even after its gone.

Frankenstein says:

He understands!

And the light here does symbolize understanding, knowledge, love—all the human things the monster seems to want, but isn't able to get. Instead, he's relegated to darkness…along with all the other spooky creatures that go bump in the night.