MARY SHELLEY

Directed by Haifaa al-Mansour, Mary Shelley (2017) is a period drama that tells the true and turbulent story of one of literature’s most iconic voices: Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, the mind behind Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. The film seeks to examine not only her creative inspiration but also the romantic and intellectual rebellion that shaped her voice in a society hostile to independent women.

Set in the early 19th century, the film begins with Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (played by Elle Fanning), a bright and strong-willed teenager struggling under the shadow of her late feminist mother and her radical philosopher father, William Godwin. Mary longs for more than conventional life offers, and soon finds herself swept into a passionate but chaotic romance with Percy Bysshe Shelley, the idealistic and married poet.

Together, they flee into a life of scandal, poetry, and heartbreak—joined by Mary’s stepsister Claire Clairmont and, eventually, Lord Byron. Amid financial hardship, personal tragedy, and betrayal, Mary is pushed to the edges of despair. It is during this emotional crucible, at Byron’s stormy villa by Lake Geneva, that Mary conceives the idea of Frankenstein—a story born from grief, genius, and a world that sought to silence her.

Mary Shelley is more than a costume drama; it’s a story about a woman demanding authorship over her own voice in a time when women’s intellect was often dismissed. Elle Fanning delivers a delicate yet quietly fierce performance, showing both Mary’s vulnerability and resolve. Her chemistry with Douglas Booth as Shelley captures the intoxicating allure and the eventual emotional toll of a love built on ideals rather than stability.

The film’s production design, score, and use of natural lighting all create a moody, poetic atmosphere. Gothic textures echo the themes of repression, romanticism, and invention that permeated Mary’s life and writings. There’s restraint in the film’s storytelling—it doesn’t dramatize the writing of Frankenstein as spectacle, but rather as personal catharsis.

That said, some critics felt the film was a little too polished, or too focused on romance over literary substance. It occasionally glosses over the intellectual depth of Mary’s writing in favor of emotional melodrama. But this is arguably a creative choice—to remind us that Frankenstein was not just a product of theory, but of life: love, death, betrayal, and isolation.

A fictional continuation might explore Mary’s later years after Frankenstein’s publication—her struggle for financial survival, her later novels, her isolation after Shelley’s death, and the legacy of being reduced to the "wife of a poet." The sequel could intercut scenes of her confronting social pressures with dreamlike sequences in which she speaks with her creation—the Creature—about identity, immortality, and motherhood. It would be less biopic, more psychological gothic drama.

Mary Shelley is a beautiful and contemplative film that pays quiet tribute to a woman who defied her time. It reminds us that behind every monster story, there’s a human story—one often shaped by pain, love, and a refusal to be forgotten.