From Grief to Gore: 'Lisa Frankenstein' Brings the Dead to Life
- theghoulsnextdoor
- Jan 22
- 12 min read
Lisa Frankenstein is a darkly comedic, neon-soaked horror film set in the late 80s, penned by Diablo Cody and directed by Zelda Williams. It explores Lisa’s journey from grief-stricken teen to self-assured misfit as she accidentally resurrects her Victorian crush and navigates a chaotic world filled with small-town gossip, body parts, and dark humor.
Ghouls Next Door unpack this delightful mashup of camp, gore, and heart. Dive into our discussion about the film’s unique blend of comedy, grief, and 80s nostalgia, as well as how it stacks up against other iconic horror comedies like Heathers and Jennifer’s Body. Perfect for fans of unconventional storytelling, horror enthusiasts, and anyone who loves a quirky, heartfelt tale with a side of gore!
Sources in this Episode:
Other Reading:
She Slays, He Decays in ‘Lisa Frankenstein’ | The Loyola PhoenixWriting Can Help Us Heal from Trauma
Media from this week's episode:
Lisa Frankenstein (2024)
A coming of RAGE love story about a teenager and her crush, who happens to be a corpse. After a set of horrific circumstances bring him back to life, the two embark on a journey to find love, happiness - and a few missing body parts.
Director Zelda Williams | Writer Diablo Cody
Lisa Frankenstein: The Dark Humor of Teenage Angst, Grief & Self-Discovery
by gabe castro
RED: Quotes, someone else's words.
Synopsis
Lisa Frankenstein is a neon-soaked, delightfully twisted horror-comedy set in the pastel suburban bliss of the late 1980s that is a journey of self-discovery. At its heart is Lisa, an awkward, grief-stricken teenager who feels like she doesn’t fit anywhere—not at school, not at home, and certainly not in her sleepy, image-obsessed town. Her classmates are shallow, her family’s solutions to her struggles are rushed and tone-deaf, and her only solace is found wandering the local cemetery, where she pours her heart out to the grave of a handsome, long-dead Victorian man.
But things take a turn for the undead one stormy night when a bolt of lightning strikes her favorite grave, resurrecting the corpse of her Victorian crush. Disoriented and barely stitched together, The Creature (as Lisa dubs him) stumbles his way to her house, where Lisa—proving she’s not your average squeamish teen—decides to take him in, clean him up, and maybe, just maybe, make him her perfect companion. After all, if she can’t find someone who gets her, why not make one?
Cue the classic ‘80s makeover montage, as Lisa gives The Creature a modern update with clothes that scream “mall chic” while he silently endures her questionable styling choices. But in a hilarious twist, the next morning, he turns the tables and dresses her in a bold Madonna-inspired ensemble that screams confidence and individuality. This marks the beginning of Lisa’s personal transformation, as her new look empowers her to shed her insecurities and start expressing herself in ways she never dared before.
What follows is a quirky and surprisingly sweet friendship between Lisa and The Creature. Despite being mute and missing an ear (temporarily—it’s Lisa, she’s resourceful), The Creature becomes the perfect listener for Lisa’s grief and frustrations. She opens up about her pain and loneliness, finding solace in someone who, despite being undead, seems to genuinely understand her. Their bond grows deeper as they navigate small-town gossip, judgmental neighbors, and, oh yeah, a few accidental murders. (What’s a good undead love story without a little collateral damage?)
But as their friendship blossoms (and the body count rises), Lisa is faced with tough questions about identity, loss, and what it truly means to find connection in a disconnected world. By the end, she’s not just embracing her quirky, macabre side—she’s fully owning it, advocating for herself, and proving that sometimes, all you need to transform is a little self-expression, a lot of courage, and, yes, maybe an undead best friend who doesn’t mind helping you bury a body or two.
With its campy humor, heartfelt moments, and a generous splash of gore, Lisa Frankenstein is a love letter to misfits, weirdos, and anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t quite belong. It’s a hilarious, offbeat romp through grief, friendship, and the messy process of growing up—proving that sometimes, finding yourself means raising a little hell (and maybe a corpse). By literally “creating” someone to fit her ideal, Lisa learns about her own desires, insecurities, and the consequences of trying to shape others—or herself—to meet unrealistic expectations.
In an article on Collider, There’s So Much More to 'Lisa Frankenstein' Than Camp '80s Horror, writer Julianna Salinas offers, “The love Lisa finds helps her out of the depths of her grief, and she gets her happy ending even if it hurts the people she left behind. While she is able to spend the rest of her afterlife with The Creature, she leaves her father and stepsister (and the families of the victims) behind in the depths of mourning and unanswered questions. The end of Lisa Frankenstein, much like the grieving process itself, is complicated.”
Filled with biting humor, campy thrills, and heartfelt moments, Lisa Frankenstein is a quirky tale about self-discovery, acceptance, and the often messy process of creating a connection in a world that feels alienating.
When Your Teen Angst Bullshit Has a Body Count
There’s a beloved horror subgenre that thrives at the intersection of camp and coming-of-age: the dark comedy slasher. The campy, dry genre perfectly serves as a metaphor for the emotional turbulence of adolescence—hormones, awkwardness, and the messy process of growing up are all reflected in the chaotic, undead antics that unfold. At first thought, Heathers comes to mind with its razor-sharp satire of high school cliques and the complicated relationship young people have with self-harm, relationships, and coming into adulthood. Diablo Cody’s other film, Jennifer’s Body also fits smugly within this framework with its bloody feminist revenge tale wrapped in demonic possession and unrequited sapphic love. Cody’s newest film, created with Zelda Williams is the newest contribution to this genre of teen angst and growing body counts. Lisa Frankenstein is about a lonely teen resurrecting a Victorian dream guy with a tanning bed and it shares that love of dark humor, rebellious protagonists, and twisted takes on teen life found in the other films.
These films share an unapologetic, gore-soaked approach to serious themes—alienation, conformity, and toxic relationships—earning their place in the hallowed halls of camp. Heathers dissects high school power dynamics with biting wit. Jennifer’s Body slays (literally) while exploring betrayal, friendship, and female empowerment. And Lisa Frankenstein reanimates suburban loneliness into a quirky love story that’s equal parts grotesque and heartfelt.
At the heart of each story are outsiders pushing against societal expectations. Veronica in Heathers is a frustrated intellectual suffocating in a world of cliques. Needy in Jennifer’s Body is the underestimated best friend, forever living in the shadow of her more confident BFF. And Lisa in Lisa Frankenstein is the awkward girl-next-door navigating grief and a craving for connection while everyone in her life has a rushed, unsupportive answer to how she handles the grief from losing her mother. Each character feels out of place and decides to rewrite their own narrative—whether it’s dismantling high school hierarchies, confronting a possessed best friend, or building the perfect boyfriend from the corpses of those who harmed you. Each answer leaves a trail of bodies in its wake.
And oh, those messy relationships! Each film brings a dark, unconventional romance to the table. Veronica’s morally murky love affair with J.D. in Heathers is as dangerous as it is thrilling. Veronica’s sexuality is embraced but her entrapment with the tumultuous and troubled J.D. is the source for concern. In Jennifer’s Body, the friendship-turned-rivalry between Jennifer and Needy drips with tension, both emotional and—let’s be honest—pretty sapphic. There’s also the toxic expectations placed upon Jennifer to be this sexual being all while still being a high school girl, there’s no wonder she’s preying on boys. Meanwhile, Lisa Frankenstein serves up a gothic, undead love story that’s weirdly sweet and hilariously grotesque. She’s just a complicated girl, obsessed with the macabre (like Shelley herself - creating rubbings of gravestones) and in great need of unconditional love and support, oh and to lose her virginity before she dies. These relationships dig into themes of power, connection, and betrayal.
Another key component to these teen tales is the visuals, all three films embrace a heightened aesthetic. Heathers dazzles with its bold, bright colors and exaggerated 80s fashion, where the characters' outfits act as both armor and masks, symbolizing the performative roles they play in high school’s rigid social hierarchy. In Jennifer’s Body, the aesthetic shifts to small-town grunge and bloody carnage, mirroring Jennifer’s struggle as she exists in a paradox—both too old and too young for the traumas she endures. The setting, wardrobe, and circumstances underscore the impossible image she’s forced to uphold, blending vulnerability with the illusion of power. And Lisa Frankenstein is a vibrant, neon-kitsch celebration of 1980s iconography and pop culture, but beneath its hyper-colorful facade lies a poignant story about the deep impact of grief and loneliness. Each film uses its visual style to amplify its tone, making every frame pop with personality.
And most importantly, the films are violent. The blood and gore is a stark contrast to the dry humor. In Heathers, it’s all about high school murders dressed as suicides—a darkly comedic take on teen culture. Jennifer’s Body ramps up the gore with Jennifer’s demon-fueled killing spree, blending horror with feminist undertones. Lisa Frankenstein takes a more playful approach, using its undead antics to explore self-discovery and healing while delivering plenty of laughs.
Together, these films prove that teen stories don’t have to be bubblegum and prom queens. With their sharp humor, unapologetic weirdness, and subversive twists, Lisa Frankenstein, Heathers, and Jennifer’s Body offer audiences a darker, smarter, and more thrilling take on growing up. If you love one, you’re bound to find something to obsess over in the others.
Trauma, Comedy, and Creativity: The Dark Magic of ‘Lisa Frankenstein'
by Kat Kushin
RED: Quotes, someone else's words.
The Subversion of Normalcy through the use of Grief and Comedy
On the ghouls we’ve talked A LOT about grief, and trauma so there are only so many things to be said about it. However, I think Lisa Frankenstein opens up the door to a way of healing that we haven’t talked about too in depth as a horror themed podcast, and that is the way comedy specifically can be used as a tool for healing. One thing that is definitely true about trauma and grief is that the exchange from those experiences is a more honest perspective on the world and how quickly we can be lost to it. It has a way of creating humans who like dark humor. There is also something to be said about the correlation between absurd humor to trauma as well. When something doesn’t make sense, something as deep and profound as the loss of someone you love, and when those around you just want you to go back to normal, there can be a lot of comfort in subversion of normalcy.
I don’t know if anyone else can relate to this but I remember distinctly when I was grieving my Grandpa, the person who essentially raised me, I handled it rough. I was a whole entire mess. And as a human who largely never let anyone witness them experience emotions (in my youth, adult me has stayed emotional lol) me being a mess was a really jarring and uncomfortable thing for other people. People would get really uncomfortable around my grief, and I could sense them wanting me to stop talking about it, or wanting me to just go back to answering “good” when they asked how I was doing. That demand to return to normalcy after something so abnormal has happened to you can be really uncomfortable and I really appreciated that being shown in this film. When your personhood is defined by what you can produce and contribute, your ability to fall in line, keep moving, grief can be an act of protest against that system. So absurd things, dark humor can appear as a really refreshing break from the normalcy were forced to operate under.
Zelda Williams, Robin Williams’ daughter also describes this in a Rolling Stones article titled How Zelda Williams Found Humor in Trauma With ‘Lisa Frankenstein’ saying, “I think my sense of humor was shaped by a lot of trauma,” Williams says. “I find a lot of humor in darkness, and I want to make things lighter for other people. Aspects of that definitely carry over into this movie. We spend so much time trying to make the way we navigate anything more palatable for others, especially women. Lisa gets to do the opposite in this.” Making grief palatable is something lots of outsiders expect from the grieving person, and it’s an unfair expectation. Suppressing grief only hurts the person more, because repression of emotions can damage both the mind and body. Pushing off the grief won’t make it go away, it’ll just make it pop up in ways that can’t be ignored, like illness or damaging coping mechanisms.
As an added bonus, comedy and dark humor can actually help with healing trauma by providing a psychological and emotional release. When individuals engage with comedic content or dark humor, it can trigger the release of endorphins, which are neurotransmitters that act as natural painkillers and mood elevators. This release can lead to a temporary reduction in stress and anxiety, offering individuals a respite from the emotional weight of trauma. Humor can also facilitate a cognitive shift in how individuals perceive their traumatic experiences. By finding humor in challenging situations, individuals may be able to reframe their narratives, viewing their experiences from a different angle. This reframing can contribute to a sense of empowerment and control, potentially reducing the emotional impact of the trauma.
Additionally, as we see films do often, comedy and dark humor can create a sense of connection and community. Sharing a laugh with others can foster social bonds and provide a shared experience of relief and joy. This communal aspect of humor can be particularly beneficial in the healing process, as it offers individuals a sense of support and understanding. It's important to recognize that the effectiveness of comedy and dark humor in healing trauma can vary among individuals. While some may find these forms of humor helpful, others may not resonate with them. Therefore, it's essential to approach the use of humor with sensitivity and respect for individual preferences and boundaries. When used thoughtfully and in a supportive environment, comedy and dark humor can serve as valuable tools in navigating the complexities of trauma and contributing to the healing process.
Writing as a tool for healing
As someone who also does this, Zelda’s why for writing after the loss of her father resonated with me. Writing as always been a point of healing for me, in the creation of my webtoon, and also in songwriting, both act as a kind of processing of the trauma i’ve experienced and creating it into something more beautiful than it’s root. This is apparently scientific, as writing and creative activities can play a crucial role in the healing of trauma. Expressive writing has been shown to have therapeutic benefits. When individuals write about their traumatic experiences, it can help them process and make sense of their emotions. This process of emotional expression through writing can lead to a reduction in stress, anxiety, and depressive symptoms. Moreover, it can contribute to an increased sense of well-being and improved mood.
Engaging in creative activities, such as art, music, or crafting, can provide individuals with a non-verbal outlet for expressing their emotions. This form of expression can be particularly beneficial for individuals who find it challenging to articulate their feelings through words. Creative activities allow individuals to externalize their emotions, providing a tangible representation of their internal experiences. This process can lead to a sense of catharsis and emotional release, potentially reducing the emotional burden associated with trauma. From a neurodivergent perspective it also can be a great stim or physical outlet for the feelings. For people who process their emotions through talking through them, writing can simulate that and it’s also kind of meditative.
When writing about things that were traumatic or felt out of your control, being the narrator of what happened can return some of that control also. If writing creatively it can provide a path to different endings, growth in characters that didn’t get to experience that in reality and other forms of catharsis. Because of this, writing and creative activities can facilitate a sense of empowerment and control. This empowerment can be instrumental in the healing process, fostering resilience and a positive sense of self.
Moreover, writing and creative activities can promote mindfulness and self-reflection. Engaging in these activities encourages individuals to be present in the moment and connect with their inner experiences. This mindfulness can aid in emotional regulation and self-awareness, allowing individuals to develop a deeper understanding of their emotions and thought patterns. Ultimately, these creative outlets can also serve as a form of distraction, providing individuals with a break from intrusive thoughts and rumination associated with trauma. Overall, writing and creative activities offer specific and tangible benefits in the healing of trauma. They provide individuals with diverse avenues for emotional expression, empowerment, and self-discovery, contributing to their overall well-being and resilience in the face of trauma.
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