War Stories

Doc. Hollywood :

Good. Let's see what we've got. 

You're a lucky man, Mr. Whale. 

Whatever damage was done by your stroke, 

it left your motor abilities relatively unimpaired. 

James Whale :

Yes, Dr. Payne, but what about 

from the neck upwards? 

What's the story there? 

Doc. Hollywood :

That's what I'm trying to explain. 

The central nervous system 

selects items from a constant 

storm of sensations —

Whatever was killed in your stroke seems 

to have short-circuited this mechanism. 

James Whale :

So you're saying there's 

An Electrical Storm going on 

inside My Head. 

Doc. Hollywood :

Well, that's as good a way 

as any to describe it.

I've seen far worse cases. 

James Whale :

What about all The Rest? 

The killing headaches. 

The phantom smells. 

My inability to close my eyes,

without thinking of a hundred 

things simultaneously. 

Doc. Hollywood :

I've never encountered the 

olfactory hallucinations before, 

but I'm sure they're related. 

James Whale :

So, what do I do? 

Doc. Hollywood :

Take the Luminol to sleep... 

and whenever you feel 

an attack coming on. 

James Whale :

What you're saying is that this isn't 

just a case of resting until I'm better, 

but that my condition will continue 

to deteriorate until 

the end of my life?

Frankenstein’s Ghost

Sir Cedric Hardwicke also plays the "ghost" of His Father in the scene where Frankenstein decides to reinvigorate the Monster. Hardwicke's mellow baritone sounded nothing at all like the clipped, nervous speech of Colin Clive, who played the original Frankenstein, but Clive had passed away in 1937, the result of poor health exacerbated by acute alcoholism.

The Mob :

There's a curse upon 

This Village...

The Curse of Frankenstein.

Aye.

Aye, it is True.

The whole countryside 

shuns The Village.

Our fields are barren, 

the inn is empty.

Wailing Woman :

My little ones cry in their sleep.

They are hungry. There is no bread.

It's The Curse, The Curse of Frankenstein.

The Mayor of Frankenstein :

This is nonsense, folks.

You talk as though these were the Dark Ages.

You know as well as I do 

that The Monster died 

in the sulphur pit under 

Frankenstein's tower...

and that Ygor, his familiar 

was riddled with bullets

from the gun of Baron 

Frankenstein himself.

The Mob :

But Ygor does not die that easily.

They hanged him and 

broke his neck, 

but he lives.

Haven't I seen him, sitting beside 

the hardened sulphur pit,

playing his weird horn, as if to lure 

The Monster back from Death 

to do his evil bidding?

The Mayor of Frankenstein :

You talk like frightened children.

Elder # 1 :

Well, if something isn't done, 

there'll be a new mayor 

after the fall election.

The Mob :

Aye!

The Mayor of Frankenstein :

What do you want me to do?

The Mob :

Destroy The Castle —

Wipe the last traces of these

accursed Frankensteins 

from Our Land.

Elder # 1 :

The People are right, 

Your Honour.

Elder # 2 :

I agree, Your Honour.

The Mayor of Frankenstein :

I Don't Believe that these dead wretches can 

affect the prosperity of This Village.

But Do as You Will with The Castle :

It's yours.

The Mob :

We'll blow it up!

*****

Frankenstein :

Ever since I can remember,

I have dreaded this moment.

For years I felt secure, certain that

The Monster had been destroyed.

I tried to keep all knowledge of it from you. 

And until last night, I succeeded.

Elsa Frankenstein, 

The Princess :

I had to know.

Yesterday, when I saw Ygor...

I felt that something had come out

of The Past to threaten our Happiness.

Please don't let it spoil our lives.

Father, promise me.

Frankenstein :

I promise you, Elsa.

I'll find a way.

I must find a way.

*****

Frankenstein :

Dr. Bohmer, I need your aid.

This Monster must be destroyed.

Dr. Bohmer :

Destroyed? But how?

He's not subject to the ordinary laws of Life. 

Frankenstein :

There is a way.

He was made limb by limb, organ by organ.

He must be unmade in the same way. 

Dr. Bohmer :

Dissection?

Frankenstein :

Bit by bit, piece by piece...

just as My Father created it.

Dr. Bohmer :

But this thing Lives -- 

It would be Murder.

Frankenstein :

How can you call the removal 

of a thing that is not Human, 'Murder'?

Dr. Bohmer :

I regret, Doctor...

I cannot be part of your plan.

Frankenstein :

Then I must do it alone.

While it lives, no one is safe.

*****

Frankenstein's Ghost :

My Son - What are you about to do?

Would You Destroy...

that which I, Your Father,

dedicated his life to creating?

Frankenstein :

I must. The Monster you created

is in itself destruction.

Frankenstein's Ghost :

Nevertheless, I was near to solving a problem

that has baffled Man since The Beginning of Time...

the secret of life, artificially created. 

Frankenstein :

But it has brought Death

to everything that it's touched.

Frankenstein's Ghost :

That is because, unknowingly...

I gave it a criminal brain.

With your knowledge of Science,

You can cure that.

Frankenstein :

It's beyond My Cure.

It's a malignant brain.

Frankenstein's Ghost :

What if it had another brain?

Frankenstein :

Another brain!

*****

Frankenstein :

Bohmer! Dr. Bohmer!

Dr. Bohmer :

What is it, Doctor?

You've changed Your Mind?

Frankenstein :

Yes. Attach the high-frequency

leads to the terminal electrodes.

Dr. Bohmer :

Yes, sir.

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

Frankenstein!

Frankenstein :

Come in, Ygor. 

I may need your assistance. 

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

You have agreed.

You are going to Help Him, Doctor?

You are giving him Life.

Frankenstein :

Yes, but not for The Purpose

that you think, Ygor.

I'm giving him strength so that 

an operation may be successful. 

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

An operation?

Frankenstein :

Yes, I'm giving him another brain.

You must explain to him

when he becomes conscious.

You must make him understand.

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

Whose brain?

Kettering?

Frankenstein :

Yes, Kettering.

A Man of character and learning.

The Monster will cease to be an evil influence...

and become everything that is Good. 

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

No! You cannot take My Friend away from me. 

He's all that I have, nothing else. 

You're going to make him Your Friend, 

and I will be alone.

Frankenstein :

It will be as I say, 

or he must be destroyed. 

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

He cannot be destroyed.

Frankenstein :

There is one way - by dissection.

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

No. Not that. Doctor.

Ygor's Body's no good.

His neck is broken, crippled and distorted, 

lame and sick from the bullets

Your Brother fired into me.

You can put My Brain in His Body.

Frankenstein :

Your brain?

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

You can make us One.

We'll be together always...

my brain and his body... Together.

Frankenstein :

You're a cunning fellow, Ygor.

Do you think that I'd put 

your sly and sinister brain 

into the body of A Giant? 

That would be A Monster indeed.

Ygor, The Bad Shepherd :

You'll do as I tell you, 

or I'll not be responsible for the consequences.

Dr. Bohmer :

Ironic, isn't it, Doctor?

Yes, The Monster's Victim shall inherit His Body.

And Everlasting Life.

Frankenstein :

Build up the voltage potential to its maximum.

The Bride

The Creature :

She hate me. 

Like others. 

Dr. Pretorius :

Look out! The lever! 

Get away from that lever! You'll blow us all to atoms. 

Baroness Elizabeth von Frankenstein :

Henry! Undo the door! Henry! 

Baron Dr. Henry von Frankenstein :

Get back! 

Get back! 

Baroness Elizabeth von Frankenstein :

I won't unless you come! 

Baron Dr. Henry von Frankenstein :

But I can't leave them! I can't! 

The Creature :

Yes. Go!

You, Live! Go!

(He turns to Pretorius and The Bride)

You, stay —

We Belong Dead.

Dr. Septimus Pretorius :

Doctor. I think The Heart 

is beating. Look. 

Baron Dr. Henry von Frankenstein :

It's beating, but the rhythm 

of the beat is uneven. 

Increase the saline solution. 

Dr. Septimus Pretorius :

Is there any Life yet? 

Baron Dr. Henry von Frankenstein :

No. Not Life-Itself yet -

This is only the 

simulacrum of Life. 

This action only responds 

when the current is applied.

We must be patient - 

The Human Heart 

is more complex than 

any other part of The Body.

The Creature

No, that’s German -

it says, “The Frankenstein, The!”

Created by an Irish clergyman, 

Melmoth is one of the most fiendish 

characters in literature. 

In a satanic bargain, 

Melmoth exchanges 

his soul for 

immortality. 

The story of his tortured wanderings through the centuries 

is pieced together through those 

who have been implored by Melmoth 

to take over his pact with The Devil.

Influenced by the Gothic romances of the late 18th

century, Maturin's diabolic tale raised the genre to

a new and macabre pitch. 

Its many admirers include Poe, Balzac, 

Oscar Wilde and Baudelaire.

monster (n.)

early 14c., monstre, "malformed animal or human, creature afflicted with a birth defect," from Old French monstre, mostre "monster, monstrosity" (12c.), and directly from Latin monstrum "divine omen (especially one indicating misfortune), portent, sign; abnormal shape; monster, monstrosity," figuratively "repulsive character, object of dread, awful deed, abomination," a derivative of monere "to remind, bring to (one's) recollection, tell (of); admonish, advise, warn, instruct, teach," from PIE *moneie- "to make think of, remind," suffixed (causative) form of root *men- (1) "to think."

 

Abnormal or prodigious animals were regarded as signs or omens of impending evil. 

Extended by late 14c. to fabulous animals composed of parts of creatures (centaur, griffin, etc.). 

Meaning "animal of vast size" is from 1520s; sense of "person of inhuman cruelty or wickedness, person regarded with horror because of moral deformity" is from 1550s. As an adjective, "of extraordinary size," from 1837. In Old English, the monster Grendel was an aglæca, a word related to aglæc "calamity, terror, distress, oppression." Monster movie "movie featuring a monster as a leading element," is by 1958 (monster film is from 1941).

Origin and meaning of monster

Entries linking to monster

*men- (1)

Proto-Indo-European root meaning "to think," with derivatives referring to qualities and states of mind or thought.

It forms all or part of: admonish; Ahura Mazda; ament; amentia; amnesia; amnesty; anamnesis; anamnestic; automatic; automaton; balletomane; comment; compos mentis; dement; demonstrate; Eumenides; idiomatic; maenad; -mancy; mandarin; mania; maniac; manic; mantic; mantis; mantra; memento; mens rea; mental; mention; mentor; mind; Minerva; minnesinger; mnemonic; Mnemosyne; money; monition; monitor; monster; monument; mosaic; Muse; museum; music; muster; premonition; reminiscence; reminiscent; summon.

It is the hypothetical source of/evidence for its existence is provided by: Sanskrit manas- "mind, spirit," matih "thought," munih "sage, seer;" Avestan manah- "mind, spirit;" Greek memona "I yearn," mania "madness," mantis "one who divines, prophet, seer;" Latin mens "mind, understanding, reason," memini "I remember," mentio "remembrance;" Lithuanian mintis "thought, idea," Old Church Slavonic mineti "to believe, think," Russian pamjat "memory;" Gothic gamunds, Old English gemynd "memory, remembrance; conscious mind, intellect."

demonstrable (adj.)

"capable of being proved or made evident beyond doubt," c. 1400, from Old French demonstrable and directly from Latin demonstrabilis, from demonstrare "to point out, indicate, demonstrate," figuratively, "to prove, establish," from de- "entirely" (see de-) + monstrare "to point out, show," from monstrum "divine omen, wonder" (see monster). Related: Demonstrably.

demonstrate

demonstration

monstration

muster

remonstrance

sea-monster

Scary Monsters

 

 

She's Dreaming. 

 

Got that? Off the charts.

 

Scary Monsters.

 

Let's amp it up. 

Delcium, eight drop.

 

See, most of our best work is done

when they're asleep.

 

 

 

 

Helen, may I ask you a question?

Helen : 

Uh, yeah, of course.

 

I don't mean to be patronizing,

but you seem to be quite a fragile thing.

 

Are you ill?

Helen : 

Um, guess I am.

Got quite a few things wrong with me.

 

Um, my ankle, my wrist.

 

I get tired.

I get anxious.

 

What are you anxious about?

 

 

Helen :

Everything.

Makes it hard to make friends.

 

Oh, yeah, I had A Friend once.

 

We used to play chess every Saturday morning.

Yeah, he was very interesting.

 

He lost both legs in the 

retaking of Goose Green.

Helen :

Poor guy.

 

Yeah.

Funny thing was is 

his nickname was

‘Stumpy’ before it all happened.

Just didn't feel like I could 

call him that after.

Helen : 

What did you call him?

 

Knobby No-Legs.

I don't know what 

happened to him.

We must have had 

a falling out.

 

 

 

James Whale :

Tell me something, Clayton. 

Do you believe in mercy killing? 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

I never really gave it much thought. 

James Whale : 

You must've come across 

such situations in Korea. 

 

A wounded comrade, or 

perhaps even An Enemy. 

You know, someone for whom 

Death would be a blessing. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

I never went to Korea. 

I never even made it through boot camp. 

That I was A Marine, which is True.

You filled in the rest. 

James Whale : 

Oh, I see. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

My Old Man was A Marine. 

Lied about his age, and he enlisted. 

 

James Whale :

Is this The Great War? 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Yeah. Yeah.

By the time he was ready 

to ship out, it was all over.

So, he felt like he'd missed out. 

 

James Whale :

Well, it was a very lucky thing he did.

Clayton, The Gardener : 

 That's not the way he saw it. 

To him it was like

His Life never really got started. 

 

Nothing else seemed to matter.

Certainly not His Family. 

James Whale : 

Is that why you became 

A Marine, for Your Father's sake? 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

I figured it'd be The Next Best Thing. 

I mean, but, you know, 

I loved it, too. 

 

It was a chance to be 

a part of something important, 

Something that's 

bigger than yourself. 

 

James Whale :

So, what happened? 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Didn't have the guts for it. 

 

James Whale :

Hmm? 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Literally. My appendix burst. 

They gave me a medical discharge.

 

And the only thing I can think is, 

‘How the hell am I gonna 

tell My Father?’

 

And you know what happened

when I finally did tell him?  

He laughed at me. 

 

Well, them's the breaks, huh? 

No War Stories for this pup. 

 

 

James Whale :

That's where you're wrong, Clayton. 

You just told me one. 

 

A Very Good Story indeed. 

 

Whew. This Storm is getting worse.

"A Perfect Night for Mystery and Horror.

The Air Itself is filled with Monsters." 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

That's from one of your movies, right? 

 

James Whale :

Very good. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

"The only monsters are here." 

 

James Whale :

Don't remember that one.

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

This afternoon at the party when you said, 

"The only monsters are here," 

I was wondering which "here" that was. 

 

James Whale :

No, I--I don't recall. 

Memories of The War, perhaps.

Barnett. Barnett on The Wire. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Your Friend. 

 

James Whale :

He caught his one night coming 

back from reconnaissance. 

 

I wouldn't take him, but McGill did, 

"just to give the laddie a taste." 

 

They were nearly home when 

a Maxim gun opened fire. 

 

Barnet's body landed on this wire 

that was as thick as briers. 

 

It was hanging there the next morning. 

 

It was only a hundred yards from The Line,

but too far... For anyone to fetch it. 

 

So we saw him every morning stand-to 

"Good morning, Barnett," 

we used to say to him. 

 

"How's old Barnett looking today?"

 

"He seemed a little peaked. 

Looks a little plumper." 

And if he hung there... 

 

Well, at least until we were relieved.

 

We introduced him to 

the new unit before marching out,

speaking highly of his companionship. 

 

God, we were a witty lot.  

Laughing at Our Dead, 

feeling that it was Our Death, too. 

 

But I tell you, for each man who died I thought, 

"better you than me, poor sod." 

 

You know, a whole generation 

was wiped out by that war. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

You survived it. 

Can't hurt you now. 

No good to dig it up. 

James Whale : 

Oh. Friend, it's digging itself up. 

There is nothing in

The Here and Now

to take my mind off it. 

 

The parties... Well, you were there. 

Reading... I can't--

 

I-I can't concentrate. 

There's no Work, of course, 

 

And, uh, love and, uh, 

painting and, uh... 

 

Drawing, I mean. Look. 

 

Your Portrait, Clayton. 

It's all gone from me now. All gone. 

 

They're nothing but the scribblings of an infant. 

There's nothing. Nothing. 

 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

You said you wanted to 

draw me like A Statue —

There. 

 

James Whale : 

It's going to happen after all. 

 

 Clayton, The Gardener :

What did you say? 

 

James Whale :

....No, it won't do. 

 

 Clayton, The Gardener :

What won't do? 

 

James Whale :

You're much too human. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Well, what do you expect, bronze? 

 

James Whale :

Don't move. 

I want you to wear this. 

Just so I can see the artistic effect. 

 

Your very human body

against the inhuman mask. 

 

Oh! Very striking. Mmm. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

I don't know. 

 

James Whale :

Just for a minute, 

so I can see the effects. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

From the first world war, isn't it? 

 

James Whale :

Fasten this around the back. 

Let me help you. There. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Hmm? Uh... Now what?

 

James Whale :

All right, let's take it off.

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Uh, it's too tight. 

I can't breathe. 

 

James Whale :

Oh, no, l-l-leave it. I'll help. 

Leave it to me. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Wha-can you-- 

 

James Whale :

I'm still here. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Um... Mr. Whale. 

 

James Whale :

Oh, what steely muscles 

you've got there. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Just take the fuckin' 

mask off me now, ok? 

 

James Whale :

What a solid brute you are. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Hey, just get your fuckin' hands off me! 

James Whale : 

It's no use, Clayton. I can't hear you.

I can't hear a word. 

Oh, well, then, maybe this. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Hey, hey, hey, hey! 

James Whale :

Ohh! How will you ever 

get yourself back? 

 

I told you, I'm not that way! 

Get it through your fuckin' head, all right? 

James Whale : 

You feel so good, Clayton.

 

Uhh! Didn't even sting! 

Wait till I tell My Friends about this. 

Won't they be surprised. 

 

 Clayton, The Gardener :

I haven't done anything with you 

 

James Whale :

You undressed for me. 

I've been kissing you. 

How will you ever be able 

to live with yourself? 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

What do you want from me? 

James Whale : 

I want You to Kill Me. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

What?

 

James Whale :

Break My Neck. 

It'll be so easy to choke 

The Life out of me. 

 

Come on, Clayton. 

We've come this far. 

 

I'm losing My Mind. 

Every day a new piece of it goes,

and soon there'll be none of it left. 

 

But if You Kill Me, 

Death will be bearable. 

 

You could be My Second Monster. 

Come on. Please, do it now. 

Make me invisible. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

I am not... Your Monster! 

 

 James Whale :

You're a bloody pussycat. 

My deepest apologies.

 Can you ever forgive me? 

 

No, I suppose not. 

I've got to go to bed. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Are you ok? 

 

James Whale :

Oh, Clayton. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Do you need some help? 

 

James Whale :

Pray, you undo this button. 

I don't seem to be able 

to manage it when I'm tired. 

 

Do you believe people 

come into our lives 

for a purpose?

 

 Ok, I can manage now. 

When you die, make sure that

your brain is the last organ to fizzle. 

 

 Clayton, The Gardener :

You'll feel better tomorrow. 

James Whale : 

Good night. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Good night. 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

Hello? 

Oh, hello, Mr. David. 

No, he did not tell me, 

but that's no problem. 

I make the breakfast. 

Yes, very good. Good-bye. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Hanna, this is not what you think it is. 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

Aah! All I ask is you get dressed and go. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Hanna, I need to talk to you 

about Mr. Whale. 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

There is nothing you could 

say would surprise me. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Maybe, but I still need to 

talk to you about him. 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

I blame my daughter for keeping me out so late. 

I only hope you did not get him excited. 

You could give him new stroke. 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Why do you do it, Hanna? 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

What I do? 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Like he was your own 

flesh and blood? 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

I did it when he was happy. It was easy. 

It's only fair I do it now he is ill. 

 

Oh, enough of this talk. 

I must go wake The Master. 

 

Mr. Jimmy, good morning. 

Mr. Jimmy? 

What have you done with him? 

You look for him. 

Clayton, The Gardener :

I put him to bed last night. 

Mr. Jimmy? Mr. Jimmy! 

Mr. Jimmy! Mr. Jimmy! 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Crazy son of a bitch! 

Oh! No! No! No! 

Mr. Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy! 

Clayton, The Gardener :

H-he wanted me to kill him, 

and then he did it himself! 

I didn't do this!

 

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

Mr. Jimmy. It says here, "good-bye."

I find in his room. ‘Sorry', he says. 

'He's had wonderful life'.

 

Oh, my Mr. Jimmy. 

Poor, foolish man.

 

You could not wait for God 

to take you in his time?

 

You must leave.

You were not here 

this morning.

 

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Look, I did not do this.

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

Police will not know that.

They will want to investigate.

You want them to question 

you about Mr. Jimmy?

 

Please, Clayton, it's better 

that I find the body alone.

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

How are you gonna explain how 

you got him out of The Water?

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

You're right. Uh, we must 

put him back.

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

Wh-uh...

 

Hanna / Fritz / Igor :

Oh, Mr. Jimmy, we do not mean disrespect.

You will keep better in water. 

 

 

 

The Hermit :

“Who are You? 

I think you're A Stranger to me. 

 

I cannot see you. 

I cannot see anything. 

 

You must please excuse me, 

but I'm blind. 

 

Perhaps you're afflicted, too. 

We shall be friends. 

 

It's very lonely here, 

and it's been a long time since

any human being came into this hut. 

 

I shall look after you, 

and you will comfort me.

  

 No, no. This is good.

Smoke. You try. Smoke. 

 

The Creature :

Good! Good! 

The Hermit : 

I was all alone. 

It is bad to be alone. 

 

The Creature :

Alone Bad. Friend Good. 

Friend Good! 

 

 Clayton, The Gardener :

Time for bed, sport.

What did you think of the movie?

Clayton's Son : 

Pretty cool.

Better than most monster movies.

 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Yeah? I knew the guy who made it.

 

Clayton's Son :  

Is this another one of your stories?

 

Clayton, The Gardener :

No. It's the original sketch of The Monster.

 

Clayton's Son : 

Is this for real? 

 

 

 

Clay, the trash, before it rains. 

Clayton, The Gardener : 

Come on.