Frankenstein (2025) – Tech bros, trauma, and a super-horny monster movie on Netflix

Mary Shelley by way of Guillermo del Toro feels almost too perfect, and Frankenstein (2025) absolutely leans into that match-up: lush Gothic sets, grotesque body horror, tender fairytale beats, and a very modern anxiety about people who build things they can’t control.

In this episode, the Bad Dads dig into Netflix’s lavish new take on the classic, framed in the icy Arctic as Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) and his Creature retell their shared nightmare from two sides. Along the way we get abusive fathers, creepy power dynamics, “18th-century tech bro” energy, and more limb-sawing than is probably healthy for a school night.

We also talk about how weird it is that this $120m movie technically “bombed” at the box office but only because it was dumped into cinemas for a week to qualify for Oscars, and what that says about modern streaming, awards campaigning and how success is measured now.

In the episode we cover:

• Netflix’s blink-and-you-miss-it theatrical release strategy and why the film only made $144k in cinemas
• Oscar Isaac’s monstrous turn as an abusive, glory-hungry surgeon vs the Creature’s unexpected gentleness
• Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz with gold shoes, Charles Dance as the worst dad alive, and why this is a strangely “horny” Frankenstein
• That brutal opening on the ice: shattered legs, ship-tipping strength and a monster that just won’t die
• Generational trauma, perfectionism and how Victor immediately becomes the same kind of father he hates
• The forest/fairytale stretch: mice, a blind old man, found family, and the heartbreaking deer scene
• All the grisly stuff: hanging bodies, severed limbs, skinned wolves and why the practical sets and make-up look incredible
• Frankenstein as an AI / tech parable – creating something powerful, sentient and uncontrollable, then trying to kill it
• The big split on the pod: is 2.5 hours richly earned or just too long for a story we already know?
• Mary Shelley’s original novella, written at 18 on a dare, and how its ideas still infect modern thrillers, conspiracy stories and sci-fi

If you like your horror Gothic, your monsters tragic, and your movie chat equal parts thoughtful and filthy, this is a good jumping-on point. Hit play, hear us argue about runtime, thirst over Oscar Isaac, side-eye Mia Goth, and decide for yourself whether this Frankenstein is a modern classic or just an overbuilt monster.

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Arnold Schwarzenegger in a yellow jumpsuit, a murderous game show, and more terrible puns than should be legal – this week we’re diving into The Running Man (1987).

Set in the far-flung future of… 2017, the film drops Arnie into a fascist police state where the government keeps the masses quiet with a wildly popular TV bloodsport. Framed as the “Butcher of Bakersfield,” helicopter pilot Ben Richards is forced onto The Running Man, a gladiatorial game show hosted by the gloriously slimy Damon Killian. Contestants are hunted by cartoonishly lethal “Stalkers” – Subzero, Buzzsaw, Dynamo, Fireball and Captain Freedom – while the state-run network lies, edits, and fakes everything to keep the ratings high.

We break down:

• The dystopia that arrived on time: State propaganda, rigged media, and how close this feels to modern reality TV and news spin.
• Arnie at full one-liner power: From exploding collars to chainsaw crotch kills, we go through the kills, the quips, and which puns are genuinely elite and which are plain zero.
• The Stalkers as 80s boss fights: Subzero’s razor-wire demise, Buzzsaw’s split decision, Dynamo’s opera-singing sex pest energy, and Fireball’s jet-pack nonsense.
• Killian and the cult of TV personalities: Why Richard Dawson nails the smarmy game-show host, and how the film weaponises studio audiences and phone-in contests.
• From Stephen King to Saturday-night carnage: How this loose adaptation trashes the bleak Richard Bachman novel, leans into gaudy satire, and still manages to feel weirdly ahead of its time with doctored footage and media manipulation.

If you grew up on 80s action, misremember this as a Verhoeven movie, or just want to hear three dads argue over whether this is genius satire or glorious trash, this one’s for you.

Hit play to hear us revisit exploding neck collars, terrible future fashion, and why, for all its flaws, The Running Man is still an easy strong recommend.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

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Christopher Walken, Larry Fishburne, and Abel Ferrara’s moral abyss of a movie. This week, the dads descend into King of New York, the neon-slick crime drama that turns Manhattan into a fever dream of violence, power, and warped justice.

Walken plays Frank White, a freshly released drug lord who wants to “give back” — but only by murdering every rival and funding a hospital with blood money. His crew? Mostly Black. His moral compass? Bent beyond repair. His dance moves? Still pure Walken.

What we cover

• Crime and capitalism: Frank’s twisted logic — kill the competition, save the city.
• The Walken mystique: Dead eyes, slick hair, spontaneous robot dances.
• Larry Fishburne’s “Jimmy Jump”: One of the great chaotic sidekicks — all swagger, coke, and AK-47s.
• Cops vs crooks: Caruso and Snipes as furious detectives who decide to skip due process and go full vigilante.
• Ferrara’s vision: A New York that’s nihilistic, sweaty, and corrupt from top to bottom.
• The politics of power: Race, class, loyalty, and the delusion of doing “good” through evil.
• The ending: Blood, subways, and one of Walken’s best death scenes — calm, eerie, inevitable.

Why listen?

Because it’s peak Bad Dads territory: a film that’s stylish, sleazy, and morally bankrupt, yet impossible to look away from. We argue about whether Frank’s warped Robin Hood act has any truth to it, trade notes on 1990s cop-movie chaos, and try to work out how this didn’t end every actor’s career.

🎧 Press play for a deep dive into Ferrara’s urban hellscape — all pulse, no conscience — and stick around for the laughs, tangents, and the lads’ own King of Jersey ambitions.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

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Terrence Malick’s debut gets the Bad Dads treatment. We dive into the cool, clinical menace of Martin Sheen’s James-Dean-by-way-of-the-Midwest and Sissy Spacek’s fairytale-flat voiceover that makes murder sound like homework.

What the episode covers

• The real-world shadow: The Starkweather–Fugate killings that inspired Badlands, Springsteen’s Nebraska, and the film’s uneasy “romance.”
• Vibes and visuals: Malick’s painterly Midwest, perfect framing, big blue skies, dust-trail car chases, and double-denim iconography.
• That score you’ve “heard before”: The Carl Orff/“Gassenhauer” motif lineage and why True Romance echoes it.
• Kit & Holly, de-romanticised: Dog killing. Patricide. Tree-house hideout. Calm compliance instead of panic. What that says about complicity and control.
• Malick’s tone game: Spacek’s naïf narration vs. the on-screen violence; why the fairy-tale cadence makes it creepier.
• American Dream, skewered: Celebrity criminality, the cops’ weird reverence at arrest, and that chilling last beat.
• Law tangent, modern lens: How felony-murder doctrine reframes Holly’s “innocence” and where age, coercion, and responsibility collide.

Should you listen?

Yes. If you like films that look beautiful while making you feel morally grubby, this one’s prime. We keep it sharp: craft, context, and a few savage laughs at the myth of outlaw romance.

🎧 Hit play for a tight, provocative chat that’ll have you rewatching Badlands with fresh eyes—and side-eyeing anyone who calls it a love story.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

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We’re suiting up for Paul Verhoeven’s gloriously un-subtle space satire—where propaganda pops like bubblegum, the bugs aren’t the dumb ones, and “service guarantees citizenship.” We talk giant arachnids, bigger egos, and why so many people somehow missed the joke.

What we cover

• The Federal Network effect: recruitment ads, newsreels, and how the film weaponises UI/UX to sell fascism with a smile.
• Rico’s journey: classroom ideology → boot-camp brutality → battlefield meat grinder (medic!… too late).
• Co-ed everything: showers, squads, and the film’s on-purpose glossy, soap-opera casting.
• Verhoeven’s satire dialled to 11: why it’s meant to be pretty and brain-dead—and why that still stings today.
• Effects that hold up: Tippett’s creature work + 1997 CGI that still rips (and rips people in half).
• The brain bug finale: “It’s afraid.” Why that triumphant cheer is the darkest punchline.
• Book vs film: Heinlein’s straight-faced militarism vs Verhoeven’s neon-lit mockery.

Why this episode?

Because it’s a perfect “did you get it?” movie—one that works as a pulpy bug-hunt and as a razor-sharp critique. We go deep but keep it rowdy: football flips, knife tricks, Ironside growls, and the most cursed workplace shower chat in cinema.

🎧 New to Bad Dads? This is a great entry point: big laughs, big ideas, zero homework. Hit play, do your part, and join Rico’s Roughnecks (temporarily).

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

In this episode, we wade into Chinatown — a sun-bleached noir where water is power, everyone’s lying, and the system wins. We talk Jack Nicholson’s bandaged nose, Faye Dunaway’s glass-shard fragility, John Huston’s all-time villainy, and that ending that still guts you. Yes, we address the director caveat up front; then we focus on what’s on screen: A precision-engineered thriller that never wastes a line, a clue, or a cut.

What we cover

• Why “Chinatown”? The title’s bleak punchline and what “forget it” really means in a city built on corruption.
• Follow the water: Droughts, land grabs, cooked records, and a murder that only makes sense when you trace the pipes.
• Noir done right: Goldsmith’s moody trumpet score, razor tailoring, art-deco menace, and how every tiny detail pays off.
• Iconic moments: The nose slice (cameo alert), the “my sister/my daughter” reveal, and the slow-motion horror of the finale.
• Performances: Nicholson’s cocky PI unravelled, Dunaway’s haunted elegance, Huston’s monstrous calm.
• The ethics disclaimer: Separating a notorious off-screen history from on-screen craft — and why that discomfort belongs in the conversation.
• Context chats: How the screenplay became a template, the year it ran into The Godfather Part II, and why the ending had to be that ending.

Should you watch it?

If you like your mysteries tidy and comforting, this isn’t that. If you want clockwork plotting, glorious craft, and a finish that lingers… it’s essential. We’re candid, a bit feral, and very fun about it.

🎧 New here? Hit play for our no-fluff, high-spirit deep dive, stick around for listener noms and the usual Top-5 chaos. This is why people love movies — and why some endings still haunt the living daylights out of you.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

In this week’s episode we dive into Better Man, Michael Gracey’s glossy Robbie Williams biopic — the one where Robbie is portrayed as a CGI chimp. Yes, really. It’s a bold swing that reframes a familiar music-biopic arc with unexpected bite: boy-band manufacture, burnout, reinvention, and the messy business of becoming “Robbie” when “Robert” is still in the room.

What we cover

• The Big Swing: Why the CGI chimp isn’t a gimmick for giggles but a visual metaphor for the “performing monkey” persona Robbie built to survive fame — and why that works (or doesn’t) for each of us.
• Factory Settings: From Nigel & Gary’s control of Take That to the economics of who actually got paid, and the cost of being the “likeable one” without songwriting credits.
• Oasis Years & Networth Fever: The hang-around era, the envy, the one-upmanship, and the obsession with conquering Knebworth as validation.
• Dad, Demons & Dopamine: Anxiety, addiction, and that lifelong pursuit of approval — including the film’s sweetest and saddest notes with Nan, and the uneasy father-son bookends.
• Does the Film Sing? Staging, choreography, and why set-pieces like “Rock DJ” land; what’s rushed (Oasis/Nicole), what’s caricature (sorry, Gary), and where the emotional math still doesn’t balance.

Should you watch the film — and our take on it?

Short answer: yes to our episode (obviously), and qualified yes to the movie. One of us calls the chimp choice inspired, one calls it clever but not essential, and one is just happy it’s never dull. If you like spirited disagreement with actual reasons, you’re in the right feed.

🎧 Hit play for sharp chat, zero reverence, and plenty of laughs.
If you’re new here, stick around after the review for our trademark Top-5 chaos and listener shout-outs.

You can now text us anonymously to leave feedback, suggest future content or simply hurl abuse at us. We'll read out any texts we receive on the show. Click here to try it out!

We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

Chimp genius or 70s hubris in a suede jacket? We dive into James Marsh’s Project Nim—the wild “let’s raise a chimp as a human” saga aimed at dunking on Noam/“Nim” Chomsky and proving apes can master language. What we actually get: sex-commune vibes, bad science, worse ethics, and one heartbreakingly charismatic chimp shunted between indulgent “parents,” media circuses, and grim laboratories.

We talk:

• Language vs mimicry: 120+ signs learned…or just expert begging?
• The ‘parents’: breast-feeding (!) and a roll-call of under-qualified carers.
• The professor: comb-over, cameras, and conclusions that nuke the funding.
• LEMSIP hell: cages, needles, PR panic—and the stoner saint Bob who actually cares.
• Violence & inevitability: cute baby ➝ teen primate with seven-men strength.
• Ethics, then and now: where the line is (and how far they trampled past it).

Bits that floored us

• The throwaway “I breastfed him.”
• Documenting Nim’s Oedipal…metrics.
• A “sanctuary” with horses and one lonely chimp.
• A finale that’s “interesting,” not “enjoyable.”

Verdict (Bad Dads split decision)

Fascinating, infuriating, essential—a five-alarm case study in how not to do science. Watch it, rage at it, then argue about animal testing like we did.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

This week, the dads swapped blockbusters for something quieter, sadder, and sneakily hilarious: The Ballad of Wallis Island, the melancholic comedy starring Tim Key, Tom Basden, and Carey Mulligan.

In a remote Welsh idyll, a lonely lottery winner (Key) invites his favourite long-lost folk duo to reunite and perform a private gig just for him. What follows is a beautifully awkward, bittersweet exploration of nostalgia, grief, and the impossibility of recapturing the past — with an emotional gut punch that sneaks up on you like a hangover.

We talk:
 🎸 Folk, fame, and failure – Tom Basden’s grumpy has-been musician trying to relaunch himself as a pop star, and the ex-bandmate (Mulligan) who’s outgrown him.
💔 Love, loss, and lanterns – Tim Key’s lonely optimism, his message to his late wife, and that heart-crushing scene on the beach.
💬 Killer one-liners – Key’s nervous chatter, the rice-pudding phone fix, and the island shop that offers peanut butter and a cup instead of Reese’s.
🎶 Music that matters – The climactic performance of “The Ballad of Wallis Island,” a scene that hits harder than most Oscar speeches.

We also covered:
 🏘️ Top 5 Neighbours – From Rear Window and The ’Burbs to Ned Flanders, Sid Phillips, and Gran Torino’s Walt Kowalski.
💬 Cultural crossfire – Why neighbourly relations cause more wars than parking disputes, and which of us is most likely to start one.

Verdict:
A quietly devastating gem that blends dry British humour with genuine emotional weight. If After Life met Inside Llewyn Davis and went bird-watching in Wales, this would be it.

🎧 Listen now for laughter, melancholy, and maybe a tear or two.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

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Bad Dads

We dove back into Ramsay Street for a pure hit of Aussie soap nostalgia: Neighbours ep. 234, a.k.a. the first-ever appearance of Charlene (a tiny, feral Kylie Minogue) breaking into a house and into British hearts.

Why this episode slaps

• Iconic entrance: Scott grabs a “burglar” in the window… hat comes off… “Charlene!” Cue destiny, perms, and pop superstardom.
• Peak mullet era: Two mullets before the first ad break. Oxygen levels dangerously low in those singlets.
• Budget telly charm: Cricket in the yard, sprinklers on, a helicopter shot that looks like a camcorder on a fishing line… and yes, a boom mic cameo at 4:42. Chef’s kiss.
• Daphne’s Café drama: Eviction threats, gender-role argy-bargy, and Shane trying to mansplain her out of a job. Meanwhile Paul Robinson is already scheming, smarming, and hair-gelling.
• Max’s feelings summit: The blokiest man in Erinsborough attempts group therapy (“I read it in an American magazine”), gets laughed out of his own lounge. Bless.

Faces you forgot were here

• Guy Pearce looking about twelve and already magnetic.
• Jason Donovan 2.0 (post–mysterious-riverbed recast).
• The Robinson clan (Helen forever), and an army of future chart acts and horror-movie alumni warming up in the background.

Stats & trivia

• Aired (AU): 17 Apr 1986
• Aired (UK): 28 Sep 1987 (we waited 17 months for Kylie and still turned up in our millions)
• Episodes on IMDb: 9,300+ (and somehow all roads still lead back to Daphne’s espresso machine)

Verdict

Still daft, still cozy, still weirdly gripping. The fashion is a hate crime and the production is held together with gaffer tape, but the charisma-to-cost ratio remains undefeated.

Strong recommend. Now hum the theme tune and pretend you didn’t.

You can now text us anonymously to leave feedback, suggest future content or simply hurl abuse at us. We'll read out any texts we receive on the show. Click here to try it out!

We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at [email protected] or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads