Before my screening of the new quirky horror-rom-com Lisa Frankenstein, a welcome message unfolded from the two main actors, Kathryn Newton and Cole Sprouse. While such messages are customary for press or early film screenings, it felt different this time. This was not a novel experience, I witnessed Tina Fey's recent message before the new Mean Girls release just last month, which also stuck around when I went to see the film on opening weekend with a friend.

 

Unlike the warm welcome from a familiar face in the world of comedy, something immediately felt off about this particular greeting. Kathryn Newton's demeanor struck me as clunky, awkward, and reserved—quite different from an actress with extensive experience in media junkets and interviews to promote films. It became evident that both actors were attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to deliver the welcome in character. Cole Sprouse's deep, raspy, and nearly broken speech pattern further highlighted the disconnect.

 

I eagerly anticipated the release of the new film, given Diablo Cody's adept skill in blending quirky and fun comedy with more profound and serious tones. She has demonstrated this ability in films like the drama-driven Juno and the more comedic Jennifer's Body, skillfully navigating the spectrum. Personally biased, I find it challenging not to favor her, being that the Academy Award-winning writer hails from my home state of Minnesota.

 

Additionally, I looked forward to the feature directorial debut of Zelda Williams, best known as the late comedian Robin Williams' daughter. I appreciate her voice acting work in The Legend of Korra, another personal favorite of mine. The trailer's debut heightened my excitement for what seemed to be a campy, fun, new horror-comedy, featuring two stars I greatly admired and filled with nostalgia.

 

Anticipating a bad yet entertaining experience, I soon found myself in utter misery. Lisa Frankenstein's attempt at becoming a new cult classic resulted in an utterly abysmal viewing experience that proved excruciating to sit through.

 

From the outset, the film grapples with defining its identity and purpose. In cinema, embracing camp can transform an otherwise average movie into a cult classic, relying on a commitment to self-seriousness despite objective flaws in presentation. However, Lisa Frankenstein takes a different approach; it acknowledges its intention to be a "bad" film and fully embraces that notion, crafting an inauthentic atmosphere that remains unapproachable for the audience.

 

Despite a playful opening credit sequence, I found it challenging to immerse myself fully in the unfolding world. Instead of eagerly anticipating the movie, my mind often dwelled on when it would conclude, desperately seeking an exit from the seemingly endless hour and forty-minute ordeal. Every element of the production emanates inauthenticity, from the overly forced 80s setting to the flat, shallow, and uninspiring performances delivered by nearly the entire cast. The film, rather than offering an entertaining experience, felt like an additional circle of hell with no escape.

 

The highlight of the film was when the ending credits graced the screen. Seizing the earliest opportunity, I hurriedly exited the theater, eager to escape back to my mundane reality. Film, as a medium, should strive to distract and entertain, offering a reprieve from our everyday lives. However, this particular experience left me yearning to return to my office and engage in the mundane task of sending emails for eight hours a day rather than enduring another second of the monstrosity before me.

 

Despite my initial hope for a mindless and fun experience, Lisa Frankenstein turned out to be one of the most painful cinematic ordeals I've ever encountered. In its ambitious pursuit of becoming the next "cult classic," it falters in every conceivable aspect of execution, failing to provide any redeeming qualities that might make the overall experience enjoyable. Frankly, the only recommendation I can muster for this film is with a substantial dose of anesthesia, allowing viewers to sleep through the painful experience this drug is typically used to avoid entirely and bypass this cinematic disaster.