‘Drenched in verbal and visual conceits of a sophistication not normally associated with Hollywood in the early thirties… a banquet of sensation, a comedy of horrors, a parade of perversities, a pinnacle of paradox, each scene giddier than the last, until finally the monster’s mate, with her Nefertiti hair-do and her Hawaiian theme tune, is revealed to be in the image of Mary Shelley who is telling the story.’

He described the creation sequence as –

‘…cinematically quite breathtaking… a perfect masterpiece of direction, photography and editing, and could be used even now as a showpiece for film students who want to learn something about film as a narrative art… these extraordinary six minutes would not have disgraced Eisenstein and have no parallel in Hollywood.’

LH dedicated his book about horror movies, The Dead That Walk, to his friend Jimmie Beattie…

‘…in whose company on a stormy night in 1944 I saw my first horror film, The Bride of Frankenstein.  It still seems the best.’

That occasion was at the Rialto in Bolton, and although the film carried an ‘H’ certificate, the two teenage friends managed to get in, and experienced…

‘…a simply marvellous piece of Grand Guignol which from the very beginning laces its horrors with wit and laughter.’

The film’s unique mixture of horror and camp humour made a huge impression on the young film fan: