Guillermo del Toro, renowned for his innovative approaches to creature creation, recently shared detailed insights with fellow filmmaker Roar Uthaug in a Netflix-hosted discussion focused on the artistry and process behind some of cinema’s most memorable monsters. Their conversation, which delved into the design philosophies for del Toro’s Frankenstein and Uthaug’s Troll films, offers a rare look at how visionary directors turn myth, art, and cultural legacy into living beings on screen, demonstrating the intricacies of Guillermo del Toro creature design.
The two filmmakers, meeting for what del Toro called an encounter with his “spiritual Norwegian brother,” explored the challenges and inspirations behind their respective creatures. With del Toro’s Frankenstein premiering on Netflix after a celebrated Venice debut and Uthaug’s Troll 2 soon arriving to viewers, their conversation presents an in-depth examination of how such creatures are imagined, sculpted, and realized, and what these processes reveal about their creators.
Reimagining Mythical Beings for a New Generation
Frankenstein stands as a dramatic revision of Mary Shelley’s seminal 1818 novel, with Oscar Isaac portraying Victor, a determined scientist who defies mortality, and Jacob Elordi joining the production last-minute to play the Creature. The film’s arrival on Netflix followed its acclaim at Venice, where its bold take on classic material was greeted with enthusiasm.
In parallel, Uthaug’s Troll 2 builds on Norwegian folklore and the artistic lineage pioneered by Theodor Kittelsen, channeling the cultural idea of trolls into contemporary cinema. Uthaug articulated how Kittelsen’s art, especially the evocative
“Troll at the Karl Johan Street,”
informed the genesis of his story—contemplating what might happen if a troll, grounded in tradition, traipsed through modern Oslo. Addressing both the government and society’s response, Uthaug explained,
“He had made a drawing called ‘Troll at the Karl Johan Street,’ which is the main street of Oslo, and there’s a troll walking down there in the early 1900s. And I thought, what would happen if a troll walked down that street today? And how would the government and the army and everybody react to that? So it’s really Kittelsen’s drawing that was the genesis of the idea,”
said the filmmaker.
Adapting to Challenges and Tight Schedules
The creation of del Toro’s creature was marked by unexpected hurdles. Originally designed for another actor, the production was thrust into a fast-paced redesign when a scheduling conflict forced a quick switch, giving the creative team just weeks to overhaul what had taken nearly a year to develop. Del Toro recounted,
“We took almost a year in reaching the final design. We had sculpted it for one actor, and it took a long time. And then that actor left the project, and we had only four or five weeks to resculpt everything,”
del Toro said. Despite time pressure, del Toro maintained composure due to his deep background in special effects, emphasizing his resilience:
“When people say, ‘Oh, it can’t be done, it’s too difficult… I know it can be done. I could do it! So we were not scared at all, and we took it,”
he reminisced.
Cross-Cultural Influence and Storytelling
Both directors spoke about the fusion of global cinematic traditions and distinct local motifs. Uthaug described how American blockbuster aesthetics, merged with Norwegian sensibilities, influence his approach, drawing from both visual spectacle and storied European character depth. He explained,
“I love those big blockbusters, and I’ve always been interested in VFX and special effects,”
adding later,
“I think we have a different attitude toward how we describe the characters in Europe than maybe in the U.S.,”
reflecting on the unique perspectives his background brings.
Del Toro highlighted a persistent kinship he feels between his own works and Uthaug’s, especially regarding creature empathy and the duality of protagonist and antagonist roles. Drawing parallels between Hellboy 2 and Troll 2, he noted shared themes and motifs, suggesting their mutual focus on the mistreatment of creatures by humans.
“There’s strands and themes and preoccupations and even devices that I thought we may be long lost brothers or something,”
del Toro joked, underscoring the connection between their creative processes.
Symbolism and Humanity in Creature Design
A core focus in the conversation was the humanity embedded within their creatures. Del Toro sees the act of designing monsters not simply as constructing symbols but as fashioning beings with genuine emotional weight. He emphasized the importance of the Creature in Frankenstein beginning life as something new, almost biblical in nature, and being forced to confront societal cruelty to develop a capacity for forgiveness. This perspective, he argued, allows audiences to not only sympathize with the creatures but occasionally side with them over their human counterparts.
Uthaug appreciated this approach in del Toro’s films, especially the refusal to portray monsters as merely evil. He said,
“I enjoy your movies as well because the creatures, they’re never pure evil. There’s some humanity or some emotions to them. You’re not looking down at your creatures,”
highlighting their mutual commitment to nuanced storytelling.
Technical Craft and Physical Production
The technical mastery required for effective creature design featured prominently in the conversation. Del Toro, leveraging his extensive experience with makeup effects, visual effects, and animation, prefers to provide actors with practical creatures whenever possible, believing that tangible presence fosters more authentic performances.
“I have extensive background on makeup effects and visual effects and animation,”
del Toro mentioned, revealing the secret to confidently tackling daunting design challenges.
Uthaug, faced with the sheer size of his trolls, described alternative methods to ground his actors’ performances. With physical props impossible, the team used drones outfitted with blinking lights and meticulously planned sequences, showing artwork and pre-visualizations to help actors visualize their mythical counterparts during shoots. Uthaug explained,
“We show them concept art to make them understand how it’s going to look. We also pre-visualize a lot of those sequences to know what shots we’re going to use and also to make sure that they understand the hand is coming, the tail is swinging around,”
outlining the steps taken to map out creature interactions on set.
Design Inspirations and Evolution
Del Toro probed Uthaug on the process of refining troll design, curious about specific influences and artistic collaborators. Uthaug shared that while Theodor Kittelsen’s artwork provided a foundational look, they worked with concept artists and animators to balance folklore with realism, ensuring each troll had a distinctive silhouette and presence reflective of Norwegian landscapes. Emphasizing the attention to anatomical details, he described adjustments made to differentiate between antagonist and protagonist trolls—sharper, predatory features for villains, and softer, more approachable shapes for heroes. Uthaug said,
“For the villain, we wanted to make him feel more of a predator. So then we looked at wolves, made his face a bit more triangular. And the hero troll is rounder and kinder. And as they’re supposed to come from Norwegian nature, we looked at rock surfaces and the ground of the forest,”
illustrating the care given to merging myth with natural forms. When it came to the eyes, Uthaug noted,
“The hero troll, he has more human eyes. But an important part of the trolls is that they always have pretty big noses and big eyes,”
pointing to specific traits that anchor the fantastical in the familiar.
The Anatomy and Aesthetics of Frankenstein’s Monster
When Uthaug inquired about the development time for the Frankenstein creature, del Toro provided valuable perspective on the blend of artistic and functional considerations. He said,
“We knew if this guy (Victor) has been thinking about it for 20 years, he’s going to do something beautiful. He’s not going to do a station wagon. He’s going to make a Lamborghini”
, highlighting Victor’s quest for beauty and innovation. Del Toro explained the period-accurate choices, like following the lines of phrenology—a once-prominent science examining skull shape and personality—when mapping the Creature’s head, as well as the significance of scars and skin tone variations to suggest a composite origin. These decisions, del Toro shared, were rooted in the idea of assembling the creature from many men, with anatomical logic mapped onto visual storytelling.
Pressed about the timeline, del Toro acknowledged that the final creature design was the product of nearly a year’s work before a sudden overhaul was required, stating,
“Well, we took almost a year in reaching the final design. We had sculpted it for one actor, and it took a long time. And then that actor left the project, and we had only four or five weeks to resculpt everything. But I was not afraid. I said, We’re going to do it. I have extensive background on makeup effects and visual effects and animation. When people say, Oh, it can be done, it’s too difficult… I know it can be done. I could do it! So we were not scared at all, and we took it,”
offering a testament to experience and adaptability under pressure.
Cultural Identity Through Monster Cinema
Both filmmakers reflected on how national identity and upbringing shape their cinematic voices. Del Toro, of Mexican heritage, attributes the distinctiveness of his films to his personal background, exemplified when he told Uthaug that what makes his movies “Mexican” is simply himself. He noted the interplay of American and European styles in Uthaug’s films, praising the “playful genre” elements, rhythm, and individual identity rooted in their countries of origin.
Uthaug responded by emphasizing the deliberate mixing of American genre conventions with Norwegian settings and characters, reinforcing the difference between European and American character construction. He described,
“I think that’s what I’ve been trying to do with the Troll movies, mix the American genre and, like you said, the flow, but make it very Norwegian, the folklore and the setting and characters. I think we have a different attitude toward how we describe the characters in Europe than maybe in the U.S.,”
underlining how cultural context informs his narrative structure.
Exploring this further, del Toro observed how American films often resist magical realism, only reluctantly accepting the fantastical, while in Uthaug’s Norwegian stories, coexistence between the mystical and the everyday is portrayed as natural. Their discussion reveals nuanced differences in how cultures approach storytelling, from fairytales ingrained in daily life to the genres and styles dominating major productions.
Legacy of Trolls and Audience Reception
Norwegian trolls, a staple of both folklore and popular culture, resonate deeply with home audiences. Uthaug explained that stories of trolls are imparted from childhood and visible everywhere, stating,
“It’s a very big part of our culture. And souvenir shops, there are trolls, trolls, trolls everywhere,”
which highlights the longstanding presence of these figures. This familiarity contributed to the first Troll’s overwhelming success on Netflix, where it racked up 103 million views in its first 91 days and became the service’s top non-English language film.
For both filmmakers, integrating culturally significant creatures into their work provides avenues not only for entertainment but also for reflecting on themes like exclusion, empathy, and the boundaries between human and other. Through character design and narrative choices, del Toro and Uthaug challenge viewers to reconsider notions of heroism, villainy, and the definition of humanity.
Looking Forward: Tradition, Innovation, and the Future of Creature Design
As Guillermo del Toro and Roar Uthaug continue to push the limits of creature-based storytelling, their commitment to blending traditional influences with bold innovation stands out. By drawing from folkloric roots, collaborative artistry, and cross-cultural inspirations, their approach to design both preserves and reinvents mythical figures for contemporary audiences. The debate between practical effects and digital magic is ongoing, but both directors agree that authenticity—even within the fantastic—is crucial for emotional resonance.
Their conversation offers a blueprint for the next wave of monster cinema: one that honors history, embraces technological evolution, and values the emotional lives of its creatures as central to narrative power. Whether manifesting on the streets of Oslo or amid the Gothic shadows of Frankenstein, these designs are more than visual marvels—they are bridges between culture, audience, and imagination that continue to evolve with each tale.
