Quick Read
- Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein premieres on Netflix globally November 7, 2025.
- Del Toro refuses to use generative AI in any part of his filmmaking process.
- The film received an 86% critics score on Rotten Tomatoes and is praised for practical effects.
- Industry figures and unions are increasingly vocal about risks of AI in cinema.
- Frankenstein’s success reignites debate over the value of human artistry in movies.
Del Toro’s Defiant Stand: No AI in His Films
Guillermo del Toro, the visionary Oscar-winning director, has never been one to follow Hollywood trends blindly. This autumn, his long-awaited adaptation of Frankenstein lands on Netflix globally November 7, after a limited theatrical run and a world premiere at the Venice Film Festival. But it’s not just the film’s gothic grandeur or its star-studded cast that’s drawing headlines—it’s del Toro’s uncompromising stance against artificial intelligence in filmmaking.
“I’d rather die than use generative AI,” del Toro declared in recent interviews, an unfiltered response that’s echoed across media outlets from Variety to Deadline. At a New York screening, he reportedly ended a Q&A with a blunt, “F*** AI.” For del Toro, this isn’t a passing sentiment—it’s a philosophy rooted in his deep respect for human creativity, and a pointed critique of what he sees as the industry’s dangerous drift toward algorithmic convenience.
The Frankenstein Parallel: Blind Creation and Consequences
Del Toro’s take on Mary Shelley’s classic isn’t just cinematic spectacle; it’s a reflection on technology, hubris, and consequence. He’s drawn direct parallels between Victor Frankenstein’s reckless ambition and the current “tech bros” driving AI innovation in Hollywood. “He’s kind of blind, creating something without considering the consequences,” del Toro explained, urging a pause to reflect on where this technological race is leading.
“My concern is not artificial intelligence, but natural stupidity,” he quipped to NPR. In his view, it’s not the tools themselves that threaten artistry, but the careless, shortsighted way humans deploy them. Victor Frankenstein’s arrogance, he argues, mirrors the uncritical enthusiasm for AI—creation without thought for what’s lost in the process.
Handcrafted Cinema in an AI Era
Del Toro’s Frankenstein is more than a story; it’s a showcase for the tactile beauty of traditional filmmaking. The 149-minute epic, starring Oscar Isaac as Victor, Jacob Elordi as the Creature, and Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz, and Charles Dance in supporting roles, uses practical effects, real sets, and meticulously crafted creature designs. No AI-generated scripts, digital performers, or algorithmic visuals—just the painstaking work of human hands and minds.
This deliberate choice resonates powerfully in an industry where studios increasingly weigh the speed and cost-saving potential of AI tools. Del Toro’s producer J. Miles Dale summed it up: suggesting AI to del Toro would be “like spitting on God.” Every frame of Frankenstein is a testament to the value of imperfection, nuance, and emotional depth that only human artists can achieve.
Industry Response: Resistance and Debate
Del Toro isn’t alone in his resistance. The debate over AI in film has galvanized Hollywood’s unions, with SAG-AFTRA leading strikes in 2023 to secure protections against AI-generated performers and scripts. Figures like Justine Bateman and Nicolas Cage have joined the chorus, warning that AI threatens to “burn down the business” and replace artistic integrity with commercial expediency. As AI’s economic footprint grows—projected to reach $4.8 trillion by 2033, according to UN Trade and Development—concerns about copyright, authenticity, and the erosion of creative labor have become central to industry negotiations.
Emily Blunt, Natasha Lyonne, and Sophie Turner have publicly condemned the use of AI-generated actors, calling them “terrifying” and urging agencies to halt such practices. In March 2025, over 400 filmmakers rallied against exemptions for AI training models, demanding stricter controls and intellectual property protections. The pressure is mounting, but del Toro’s position remains singularly uncompromising.
Critical Reception: A Triumph for Human Artistry
Frankenstein premiered at Venice to a Golden Lion nomination and won the Fanheart3 Award, before earning runner-up for the People’s Choice Award at Toronto. Early reviews are overwhelmingly positive: Rotten Tomatoes shows an 86% critics score, with praise for the film’s “tactile, handmade beauty” and Jacob Elordi’s emotionally nuanced portrayal of the Creature. Oscar Isaac’s performance as Victor Frankenstein has already earned him honors at the Savannah Film Festival and the Celebration of Cinema and Television.
Reviewers highlight the film’s slow pacing—not as a flaw, but as a deliberate choice that allows the story’s emotional and philosophical depth to unfold. Del Toro’s commitment to analog techniques—puppetry, makeup, set design—has drawn particular admiration. The creature’s look, inspired by historical phrenology manuals, exemplifies the meticulous research and craftsmanship that AI simply cannot replicate.
Set against the backdrop of the Crimean War, the film explores loneliness, ambition, and the yearning for connection. The Creature is not merely a monster, but a tragic figure searching for meaning, separating this adaptation from countless predecessors.
Cultural Impact: Can One Director Shift the Conversation?
With Frankenstein, del Toro has sparked a broader industry conversation: can the success of human-crafted cinema turn the tide against the rush to AI? His stance is provocative, especially as studios chase efficiency and profitability. Yet the film’s reception suggests audiences and critics still crave the authenticity and emotional resonance that comes from hands-on artistry.
Netflix’s release strategy—three weeks in theaters, followed by a global streaming debut—reflects a commitment to both prestige and accessibility. As viewership data rolls in, the question lingers: will del Toro’s approach inspire others, or remain a noble outlier?
Perhaps the most compelling aspect of del Toro’s defiance is its narrative symmetry. The film itself is about the dangers of unchecked creation; its making is an act of resistance against precisely that. As the debate over AI continues to roil Hollywood, Frankenstein stands as a timely reminder of what’s at stake: not just jobs or traditions, but the soul of cinema itself.
Del Toro’s principled refusal to use AI in his filmmaking is more than a personal preference—it’s a challenge to an industry at a crossroads. As technology accelerates, his analog masterpiece asks us to reconsider what we value in art: speed and scale, or the irreplaceable touch of human imagination?