Most horror fans are familiar with Frankenstein. Mary Shelley’s gothic horror novel (also regarded as the first true science fiction story, according to Wikisource) tells of a monster created from parts of dead bodies by a mad scientist. A monster who, abandoned by his creator, seeks only acceptance, and upon finding rejection at each turn, finally wreaks bloody vengeance on every mortal who crosses his path. The subject of countless adaptations since its anonymous first publication in 1818, the classic tale is here again with director Erynn Dalton holding the reins over The Gravedigger.

In 1700s Bavaria, lonely gravedigger Kurt (Paul Homza) works in exchange for lodgings in the graveyard itself, his pitiful existence the tattered remnants of a happier past dissolved into tragedy. Resigned to, and perhaps feeling deserved of his isolated life, he’s somewhat surprised when one night he discovers a huge, bandage-swathed fellow (Gisbert Heuer) cowering, distressed, in the shadows.

Kurt, his time alone having rendered him eccentric yet unbittered, takes pity on him, bringing him back to his meagre home and making him welcome. Affable and possessed of a benign, honest wit, his is a very likeable character. The scenes inside the shack are almost too dark to see the actors; however, even without details the fearsome presence of the distressed man is obvious, as he’s about eight feet tall and built like a bulldozer. And what’s under those bandages?

Following some perfunctories Kurt agrees he can stay if he digs the graves; he himself struggles on account of an injury he’s reluctant to discuss. With this as a leveller, the man removes his facial wrappings and finding he’s nameless, Kurt christens him Anton. When Romany fortune teller Nadja (Arlette Del Toro) crosses Anton’s path she’s unfazed at first, being a tragic outcast herself. Desperate for love and acceptance he bares his soul and face to her, whereupon she backtracks sharply and flees, leaving his heart and trust shattered.

Meanwhile, Dr. Frankenstein (Tyler Charles Kane) is on the hunt for the creature he made with body parts collected by Kurt a year before, who’s murdered his family and friends in a fit of rage and escaped. It’s Nadja from whom he seeks help with this, upon which she realises the truth behind Anton, and warns him (in a rather half-hearted stab at redemption) before disappearing. As Frankenstein, verging on madness, eventually arrives at the graveyard, a scene unfolds that proves to be the ultimate test of true humanity.

The dialogue, true to the 19th century, is highly theatrical in language and delivery; the plot rarely straying far from Shelley’s novel. As such, it loses none of the drama of the original, although the warm relationship between man and monster as well as Kurt’s grounded geniality lend a lighter note to this version. Anton’s emotional breast-beating is unfortunately overplayed, as if he wants to be rejected. It becomes jarring early on, though Kurt’s disarming responses not being conducive to dramatics, it’s balanced out and isn’t too great an issue.

The concept of humanity and its essential attributes being the central point of the story, this gentler treatment works, as does the focus on the tragic backstories of each of the ‘human’ characters; Anton isn’t the only one struggling to find his humanity for others in the face of personal anguish. Emotion conflicts with moral integrity, and the subject of biological origin becomes secondary to the question of what really makes the difference between human or monster. As long as your night vision and tolerance for vintage vocab are up to it, The Gravedigger is decent fayre for any Frankenstein fan.