It almost feels silly to write a review on this. Those who know it already appreciate its historic and literary importance, marvel at Shelley's nuance amidst the hyperbolic hysterics of Viktor and the literary tragedos of the Creature. 

But for those who are unaware, set aside every film version of this work that damages your expectations (yes, even--and maybe especially--Branagh's). There is action and the unnatural here, murder and fear. But the gaudiest action is left off-page, glossed by 19th century propriety. What is unnatural falls less to the result of Viktor Frankenstein's experiments and more to the conception of them: If we are to alter the course of natural events, what is our obligation as parent to them? Murders, too, are not so much senseless as perhaps causal responses to that last question. And the fear that Viktor (and readers) feel is less about a Creature that reasons persuasively than about the ambiguity of our human responsibility. 

There is plenty to consider, question, challenge: What name does one give to an unnamable action? (Shelley never calls her creation a "monster.") What consequences the scientist who blinds himself to his partner role as member of humanity? How responsible the being who is never offered compassion? What right of man to protest his own creation? But these are just for beginnings. There is plenty to ask of machismo, rhetorical ultimatum, religious parallels, and manifest destiny, too.

Rightfully, entire university courses have taken up Shelley's work. Surely this relatively brief read merits more hours of attention than any cheap movie thriller. Better, search the differences (some substantial) between the 1818 and 1831 editions to find out how Shelley poses her questions differently!