I watched "Frankenstein" the other day, the old one with Boris Karloff. For some reason, I guess so he can be shocked into life, he has those electrodes in his neck. You'd almost thing the doctor would make them detachable, so that he didn't have to walk around with them after he was living. But it'd come in handy, like a port that people have, in case he ever needed another jolt.
The movie's simple and short. Man makes monster, man loses monster, monster presumably dies in a burning windmill. Obviously he died, but who knows, we didn't see the body. There may have been a back way or an underground passage. That's what they could've done, then had him back for "Frankenstein II."
I keep forgetting the name of the monster isn't meant to be Frankenstein. That's just the name of the guy who made him. But I've had that habit ever since I was a kid, and it's hard to break now.
Like I said, it's a simple movie. The creator of the monster, Henry, I believe his name was, doesn't forsake his beloved and go running back, obsessive about working on the monster. You'd almost think he'd be so compelled that he'd have a relapse.
I like the part where the old doctor, the scientist, the brain specialist, is working with the monster. And he doesn't take the precaution of tying down the monster's hands. So, la la la, oops, he's got me by the throat! Bye bye, doctor!
And I'd forgotten the part about the monster throwing the little girl in the water and having her drown. Totally forgotten. Maybe I haven't ever seen this movie before. I wouldn't have forgotten that. Strange.