Oscar Isaac reveals that he only spoke in Spanish with Guillermo del Toro when filming ‘Frankenstein’: “It’s a European story told from a Latin point of view”

Just a few days after its premiere, Frankenstein of Guillermo del Toro It has become the number one movie in Netflixmarking a milestone for both the platform and the renowned Mexican director. The feature film not only carries out an ambitious rereading of the classic Mary Shelleybut also reveals the weight of identity and cultural complicity between del Toro and the protagonist, Oscar Isaacwho decided to communicate exclusively in Spanish throughout filming.

From the first moments on set, the decision to speak only in Spanish altered the usual atmosphere of an international production. Oscar Isaac told GQ that the intimate and organic communication with del Toro allowed him to create a tone for the film that was far from the solemn Gothic drama: “This film is an emotional Mexican melodrama. It is a very European story told from an extremely Latin point of view,” stated the actor. This linguistic and affective framework was felt in each scene, imbuing the adaptation with a visceral and Latin American sensitivity capable of transforming the European story into something different, emotional and close.

The gestation of the film has been, in itself, the fulfillment of a prolonged search for Guillermo del Toro. According to the director himself, his fascination with the figure of Shelley’s monster began in childhood, when he saw the creature as a “patron saint.” After several failed attempts to bring the novel to the screen, del Toro finally opted for a personal version, challenging the traditional molds. In its adaptation, the monstrosity acts as a tragic and tender mirror of the human condition, relating personal wounds to those of an entire orphaned, uprooted and hopeful continent.

The project is also rooted in cultural complicity. Both del Toro and Isaac share Latin roots; The director trusted Isaac for the central role after a meeting at his house that had little formality. As the actor himself said, the offer of the role arose between personal confidences, dishes of Cuban food and family memories. Before saying goodbye, del Toro gave him two books: the novel by Mary Shelley and the Tao Te Chingmanifesting a deliberate intention to fuse the European tradition of horror with a sensitive and spiritual perspective.

The bet is reflected in the entire visual and dramatic design of the film. “I didn’t want Frankenstein to be a museum piece but a living organism, full of modern energy,” del Toro stated according to GQ. The photography saturates the colors and the costumes give each character uniqueness, while the Victor Frankenstein Isaac’s work oscillates between torn romanticism and introspection. Jacob Elordiin the role of the creature, alternates moments of pure innocence and mortal tragedy, constructing an ambivalent, almost sacred figure.

To delve deeper into this cultural appropriation, del Toro baptized his Frankenstein with the legal names of Oscar Isaac, thus affirming the Latin American belonging of the character. “It is no coincidence that my Víctor’s real name is Óscar Isaac Hernández,” the director recalled. Isaac himself recognized that the emotional closeness and the use of Spanish helped avoid excess solemnity: “Between jokes and confidences, the darkness of the story coexisted with a necessary lightness,” explained the actor.

This fusion of traditions, feelings and roots defines the originality of del Toro’s version. Mexican melodrama surfaces in overflowing passions, inherited pain, and bonds that struggle to persist despite tragedy. The spiritual and human sphere flies over the entire narrative, generating unprecedented bridges between English literature and Latin American cultural identity. Today, with the film now available globally through Netflix, viewers around the world have access to a reinterpretation of the classic myth in an intensely personal key. Far from offering a simple tribute, Guillermo del Toro and Oscar Isaac have woven a universal story told in the sentimental register of Latin America, where monstrosity is not only horror, but also refuge, wound and hope.