More than the similarly mythologized Monsters, Inc., the first stop-motion feature produced in Mexico (courtesy of the Cinema Fantasma studio) recalls an old childhood favorite from the ’80s: Little Monsters. Just like that Fred Savage vehicle, writers-directors Los Hermanos Ambriz (Arturo and Roy) have created a means to connect reality to nightmare so a human might embrace the latter’s mischief, mystery, and terror that the former rejects. The 19th-century-set I Am Frankelda is thus born from a young woman’s mind (Mireya Mendoza’s Francisca Imelda) as a manifestation of her aspiration to become a horror writer––a dream met with major pushback from publishers, society, and family alike.
Her sole fan? Prince Herneval (Arturo Mercado Jr.) of the nightmare realm’s Topus Terrentus kingdom. Just like his royal parents, he was born to serve as their home’s protector by playing the strings of their castle’s spider tree and implanting terror inside sleeping human minds. It’s a symbiotic relationship maintained ever since a monster of old dared conquer the real world, only to be defeated by the great Ceimuth (Carlos Segundo). It was a foolish urge for power: spooks literally cannot exist without human belief supplying them life (think Tinkerbell), and reality should never seek to extinguish the spooks when nightmares are crucial for imagination, processing trauma, and progress.
There’s admittedly a lot of exposition to wade through at the film’s start, but it all clicks into place rather quickly so the second half’s drama can unfold unencumbered. The gist is that Herneval’s parents are fading away in their attempt to absorb as much of their world’s destruction as possible. While they’re aware of the cause, politics and a tenuous peace between the Seven Clans ensure proof remains elusive. Procustes, the Royal Nightmarer (Luis Leonardo Suárez), is too cunning to let his orchestration of their demise be revealed. He does his job poorly, blames an easily targeted common enemy, and positions himself as the only person fit to restore former greatness. Sound familiar?
We receive resonant and timely themes as a result. The propagandized misinformation of Procustes sows the seeds that humanity causes their plight when it’s really his creative bankruptcy’s inability to scare the necessary levels of fear out of them. That leads to plagiarism by entitlement (see the Generative AI debate), considering Procustes promises a masterpiece his talents could never create, before positioning himself to steal and weaponize another’s work for his plan’s advantage. And he does so by denigrating progress so he can reconsolidate the power time has redistributed from him. It’s the same discouragement Francisca has battled her entire life: an oppressive conservatism borne from jealousy that seeks to destroy the dreams it could never conjure itself.
It’s the old guard clawing desperately to maintain relevancy as the new guard prepares to take over. Regardless of how the bond between Herneval and Francisca began, their connection is key to the salvation of both species and thus the source of power necessary to bridge their worlds again. He needs the stories her realm discounts as “low art” to strike the fear Procustes is simply too out-of-touch to deliver (hence his pivot to conquering reality by force). She needs his fandom and support to rejuvenate the passion and belief in herself that has propelled her into becoming a woman ahead of her time at home and an unlikely savior abroad. They must only loosen Procustes’s grip to do so.
Psychological and emotional warfare is tough to combat, though. Especially for the optimistically pure at heart. Herneval has such faith in truth winning out that he simply cannot fathom the lengths Procustes will go to risk everything for himself. He doesn’t understand just how efficient hate and greed are at dismantling a system of democracy from the inside simply by omitting a few bits of relevant context from half-truths; see America’s scorched-earth military strategy always radicalizing more enemies than it defeats to keep indoctrinating the populace with the animosity necessary to profit from the feedback loop. Saving lives is never as sexy as violent rebellions against one’s self-interests.
That all this is at the back of a stop-motion musical only speaks to the relevancy of I Am Frankelda as a piece willing to speak truth to power while still providing an infectious level of fun. Being students of Guillermo del Toro surely helps in this respect––there’s no one better at fusing social commentary to genre thrills. And while the ending might feel like an attempt to sell franchise potential, it’s actually just leaving a narrative opening to the studio’s 2021 miniseries Frankelda’s Book of Spooks, for which it serves as a prequel. This is a story-first project utilizing everything at its disposal to enchant, entertain, and inspire with catchy songs, three-dimensional characters, and impeccable craft.
Stay for behind-the-scenes end-credit reels to fully comprehend the artistry’s scale. We see a crew member sitting below the castle’s staircase and the two-headed, bird-like clan leader is shown to be taller than its animators and almost twice as long, allowing the puppets for Herneval’s owl-man and Francisca’s transparent consciousness to fly around it during the climactic battle. The slow disintegration of the King and Queen into batted stuffing is ingenious and the horror-fused character design excels by leaning into the grotesque nightmare fuel of The Dark Crystal while still approaching the cutesy polish of A Nightmare Before Christmas. Sign me up for whatever comes next.
I Am Frankelda screened at the 2025 Fantasia International Film Festival.
The post Fantasia Review: I Am Frankelda, Mexico’s First Stop-Motion Feature, Speaks Truth to Power first appeared on The Film Stage.
