To be fair, Eckhart is physically impressive and Bill Nighy and his raised eyebrow do their best in the role of demon leader Naberius. But I, Frankenstein shares something else with it's monster-hero, something much worse than its patchwork nature: The film is distinctly lacking in the soul department.

If the film is made with the understanding that campiness needs to be straight-faced to be funny, then are its “unintentional” laughs really that unintentional?

At the very least, it does provide an easy excuse to sit in a heated room eating popcorn.

Sadly, as apt as comparisons to "Underworld" might seem, I, Frankenstein can't even clear that very low bar.

It doesn't come close to working, but it's sweet that they tried.