Stream It Or Skip It: Is ‘The Frankenstein Chronicles’ on BritBox, A Monster Smash Or Graveyard Trash?

What if Frankenstein wasn’t fictional? What if Frankenstein was real? Well, what if it wasn’t “real,” per se, but the spirit of the novel sparked a series of grisly murders in pre-Victorian London? That’s kind of the gist of Netflix’s new original series The Frankenstein Chronicles. The series, a spooky crime thriller that pits a “sort of” detective named John Marlott (Sean Bean) against a mysterious killer, mixes the hallmarks of the Victorian penny dreadful genre with some super specific historical references and a boatload of cameos from some of British literature’s biggest titans. (I SEE YOU, DICKENS!) But is it any good? Or should it be tossed in the Thames like an unholy science experiment gone wrong?

THE FRANKENSTEIN CHRONICLES: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

Opening Shot: A single rowboat trudges through the rain and thunder in London, 1827. By the light of a single lantern, we see that the boat’s passenger is none other than Sean Bean. You know, that guy who dies in a lot of stuff. Another boat emerges from the mist, troubling Mr. Bean, who rises to meet the other boat’s passenger. The first thing he says? “Where are my goods, them crates you promised me?” Aw, man, this looks like something to do with smuggling, which means we got a crime story on our hands!

The Gist: Sean Bean plays John Marlott, a London “police officer” operating in a time before policing was really a thing. That means rules are laxer, crimes are grislier, and there’s not much oversight. That also means that after his little smuggling ring bust (see above) goes awry, no one really cares about the culprit who dies in some kind of quicksand muck.

However, in the aftermath, Marlott and his men discover a grotesque corpse: a young girl whose body seems to have been stitched together from other dead children’s body parts. You know, like Frankenstein. Oh, and then her hand snaps to life even though she’s dead. You know, like Frankenstein. Marlott demands that the body get examined by the best physician in the land and that means he gets to drag the Home Secretary, a young-ish Sir Robert Peel, into the case and Peel, in turn, enlists Marlott to get to the bottom of what happened.

Marlott soon finds himself embroiled in what seems to be a multi-layered conspiracy. Are these “piecemeal” corpses the work of some embittered amateur scientist pissed off about Sir Robert Peel’s upcoming legislature? Is it the work of a monster haunting the poorer neighborhoods? Was a missing girl named Alice Evans captured by the killer? Is there even a killer? And why-oh-why do so many literary figures seem to be in the case’s orbit? The overwhelming Mary Shelley-ness of the case aside, the first episode ends with Marlott seizing upon a William Blake poetry print as a key clue in young Alice Evans’ disappearance. (And don’t think I don’t see the Keats reference in Mr. Nightgale’s name.)

The Frankenstein Chronicles also features one of Netflix’s big breakout actresses: The Crown‘s Vanessa Kirby. She shows up as Lady Hervey, a concerned aristocrat sporting a very brassy red dye job.

Our Take: Wow, this is a weird show. I say that because there seems to be some confusion as to what The Frankenstein Chronicles is even about. The title and crime suggest a macabre deep dive into the supernatural, but some of my fellow critics have already written warnings that, “actually,” this is a cut and dry proto-detective series. Um, actually, it’s not quite that, either. This is a crime show desperately concerned with the origins of the modern crime genre, particularly in the sketchy give-and-take between real life and fiction. Why include William Blake? Maybe because he lived during this time period, but maybe also because he has had such an influence on modern crime thrillers, like Red Dragon. Why introduce Sir Robert Peel? Probably because he’s the guy destined to revamp the British police force into real law enforcement officers. Why play with the mythos of Frankenstein? Because it reflected interest and anxiety in what we could learn from corpses (i.e. the birth of forensic science). This show is full of layered allusions and references that all circle around the uneasy chicken-and-egg relationship that real life has with our nightmares.

That said, The Frankenstein Chronicles flails as a pure crime thriller. The first episode drags at times and is drearier than a grey London day. Its more interested in hitting the notes of a“penny dreadful” than doing anything new with the genre itself. That said, the show is probably a must-see for historical drama nerds. The first episode is brimming with uber-precise historical references — like the fact that Marlott has syphilis! Do you know who had syphilis in the 1800s? A LOT OF PEOPLE. We hardly ever see syphilis onscreen because a) it could make someone extremely ugly and b) most people were so ashamed of it that they never wrote about it, and since they never wrote about it, a lot of modern writers, lazily lifting from source material, assume it wasn’t as pernicious as it really was. The Frankenstein Chronicles wants to look at what writers cut out of their books, too.

Sex and Skin: The only skin we get in the first episode is of the gross kind. We see dead children’s bodies cut up and sewn together. Also, as far as sex goes, there’s not much to speak of outside Marlott’s syphilis reveal. Well, there is this awful scene were a Fagan-like orphan lord tries to quiet Marlott by letting him deflower a virgin girl, but nothing much happens except an interrogation scene. Marlott’s a hero, y’all!

Parting Shot: A poor little boy we’ve been following lays dead on a slab. At first it seems that his chest has merely been cut open and stitched up, autopsy-style, but then we get a close up at his limp sewn-on wrist twitching to life in the hands of a mystery man.

Sleeper Star: We get barely more than a glance at a writer scribbling away at Parliamentary proceedings with a smirk, but he stands out amongst the dreariness of the show and with good reason. Actor Ryan Sampson plays “Boz,” a character you just know is going to pop up again in later episodes. How do we know? Because “Boz” was Charles Dickens’ byline as a witty young newspaper reporter. (Also we checked IMDB.)

Most Pilot-y Line: “I’ve seen murder before, sir, but… nothing like this.”

Our Call: Skip it. The show is fine, but unless you love to count literary Easter Eggs — I mean, I do — then your time is better spent catching up on the superior Old Timey murder mystery, The Alienist.