Originally published: February 5th, 2024.
As Kathryn Newton (Supernatural, Big Little Lies) and Cole Sprouse (Riverdale, The Suite Life franchise) continue to carve out careers away from the comfort of television, Lisa Frankenstein feels like the perfect testing ground for their evolving screen presence. Both bring with them an awareness of horror-camp traditions, and that energy is what carries Zelda Williams’ debut film from start to finish.
Lisa Frankenstein arrives in a Hollywood landscape that doesn’t exactly have a David Cronenberg or Tim Kincaid shaping the horror conversation. Instead, Williams leans heavily into the pulpy, B-side aesthetics of the 1980s, treating them with affectionate care. The film isn’t built to dominate awards season, nor is it likely to set box office records or win over every casual moviegoer. But that’s okay—it never tries to be anything more than what it is: a knowingly campy, fun, and nostalgic throwback. At its best, it recreates the feeling of wandering into a Hollywood Video in 1988, grabbing the cheesiest VHS cover you could find, and settling in for a Friday night pizza party with friends.
A Premise Steeped in Nostalgia
The premise draws from countless cult classics of the ’80s horror canon, but does so with just enough innovation to feel fresh. Newton plays Lisa, a teenager struggling to cope with her mother’s murder while awkwardly trying to fit in with her new stepfamily and high school life. Sprouse takes on the role of a corpse reanimated back to life—a character trope ripped straight from arthouse horror.
Together, the two misfits form an unlikely bond, one that quickly spirals into a murder spree as they find comfort in one another’s brokenness. While the basic outline of the story may feel familiar, the execution is where Lisa Frankenstein thrives. The film leans into the absurdity of its premise, unapologetically embracing camp instead of pretending to be something deeper or more profound.
Camp, Colour, and Carnage
The kills are gleefully creative, ranging from absurdly grotesque to hilariously over-the-top. The makeup work is fascinating—not designed to terrify, but to dazzle and amuse, perfectly fitting the film’s tone. What truly sets the film apart, however, is its production design. Every frame is drenched in neon-soaked nostalgia: fluorescent lighting washes over suburban hallways, the stepmom struts around in aerobics-video joggers, a hot pink tanning bed sits conspicuously in Lisa’s shed, and china cabinets straight out of the 1980s complete the backdrop.
It’s horror played as parody, never trying to scare the audience so much as immerse them in a heightened, tongue-in-cheek vision of an ’80s fever dream. The film knows it’s silly, and that knowledge becomes its strength.
Performances that Elevate the Camp
What could have been a shallow exercise in retro kitsch is given real weight thanks to its cast. Cole Sprouse delivers what might be one of the most surprising performances of his career. Playing a character without dialogue, he relies entirely on physicality, expressions, and presence to sell the role. That he’s able to dominate the screen without speaking a word is a testament to his growth as an actor since his child-star days.
Kathryn Newton, meanwhile, brings warmth and subtlety to a role that could have easily slipped into cliché. Her performance transforms Lisa from a stock “misunderstood teen” into someone genuinely layered and sympathetic. Her trajectory toward becoming a modern scream queen feels all but complete. And in the film’s later acts, Liza Soberano as Taffy provides an additional spark, stealing several scenes and solidifying herself as another standout in the ensemble.
The Energy in the Room
One of the most telling measures of a film like Lisa Frankenstein is audience response, and Monday night’s surprise “mystery screenings” across the country provided the first glimpse at how it plays with a crowd. At my screening, the energy was palpable: applause broke out during one particularly memorable kill, and laughter echoed at just the right moments of intentionally cheesy dialogue.
It was messy, a little gross, often ridiculous—but it was fun. And that’s exactly the point. Zelda Williams doesn’t let the film forget that it’s supposed to entertain. By leaning into absurdity and never taking itself too seriously, the movie makes fun of itself while still inviting the audience along for the ride.
Final Thoughts
At just 105 minutes, Lisa Frankenstein doesn’t demand much of its viewers other than to sit back and enjoy the chaos. It doesn’t try to be profound or reinvent the wheel. Instead, it offers neon-drenched escapism, campy performances, and a chance to revel in the playful spirit of ’80s horror cinema.
Sometimes, films don’t need to be awards contenders or billion-dollar franchises—they just need to remind audiences that cinema can still be fun. Lisa Frankenstein does exactly that, and in doing so, it earns its place as one of the more enjoyable under-the-radar theatrical experiences of 2025.
