Sometime during the 18 century, or whenever, there lives a teenager (who seems to be around 30 years old) named Victor Frankenstein. He likes to party. In fact, he wants to go to college in Vienna so he can really party. His Dad nixes that idea, so Victor arranges his death. In Vienna, Victor meets his heterosexual (maybe) life partner, Willhelm. They party. Victor parties so hard, in fact, he knocks up the dean's daughter and has to flee back home, with Willhelm in tow. Conceding that maybe his late Dad had a point about him being a worthless bum, Victor decides to belatedly try to learn some of that stuff he didn't pay attention to at medical school.
In between bouts of proto-frat-boy komedy, Victor and Willhelm slooooooooooooowly set up a mad science laboratory in Victor's castle. Then they rescue a rich girl, Elizabeth, from some would-be rapists, or maybe they're brigands, or maybe just drunk guys goofing around. Who the hell knows? Anyone, one of the rapists ends up dead and Victor decides to appropriate his head. Hey, maybe we're finally getting somewhere, eh? Well, sort of. First Victor and Willhelm kill and reanimate a turtle, then they make a deal with an elderly grave robber and his jailbait wife to procure human body parts. And we also have to establish Victor's relationship with his maid (who he f**ks on the side until he can manage to get into Elizabeth's pants), his old buddy who is now a cop, and another guy who does odd jobs around the castle. Oh, and Victor's bromance with Willhelm is on the rocks. Damn, but I hope that monster gets activated already ...
This is a Frankenstein movie that features the creature murdering people with an axe. Frankenstein's monster kills people with a f**king axe! That right there should tell you whether or not you want to see this movie. Poor David Prowse tries his damndest to actually do something with the role of the Creature, but the makeup is at least as bad as what Kiwi Kingston had to contend with in Evil of Frankenstein, so it's all for naught. (Poor, poor, Mr. Prowse would get a second chance to do absolutely nothing as the monster a few years later in Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell.) We also get plenty of chances to leer at Katie O'Mara's huge, rock-solid, and frighteningly immobile cleavage. She either had some godawful implants or one hell of a push-up bra during this movie.
And, well, that's pretty much it. A few silly murders and some big, fake boobs. If you're a fan of bad acting, Ralph Bates as Victor Frankenstein: Frat Boy might hold some appeal, though it's more "non-acting" than "bad acting". The guy is so laid back sometimes I thought he was going to fall asleep! The worst thing of all, though, is that I suspect that director Jimmy Sangster (who wrote some of Hammer's best movies but had never directed before) was making a bad movie on purpose. Whether he did it as revenge on Michael Carreras for tossing this lump of crap in his lap, or if he thought he was being clever, the result is completely disastrous, every bit as bad as one of those damned self-aware horror flicks that were vomited upon the cinemas in the wake of Scream.
If anyone ever tries to tell you that Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell is the worst of the Hammer Frankenstein movies, they obviously haven't seen this!