The worst of Hammer Films' Frankenstein series, this dismal third installment suffers from the direction of the studio's resident hack, Freddie Francis (Craze), who stepped in for Terence Fisher for the first (and thankfully last) time. The other problem was the agreement Hammer had reached with Universal, allowing the use of makeup similar to that in the American series and the liberal appropriation of plot elements. Most of the film deals with Frankenstein's boring efforts to evade detection by local authorities, and Anthony Hinds' script makes his character into a temperamental ninny rather than a ruthless genius. Kingston's makeup (by Roy Ashton) looks like a clay brick rather than the intended Boris Karloff effect and the plot is a lame hybrid of elements from Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman and House of Frankenstein. Luckily, Terence Fisher returned for the next installment, the superior Frankenstein Created Woman.