Sometimes, we find ourselves blessed with an unexpected gift. Earlier this year, Netflix continued to prove themselves as not only one of the most rapidly-ascending entertainment providers but also the facilitator of some truly astounding and original pieces. It came in the form of an obscure short film that bears the masterful title Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein. To describe this in any coherent way is not only inadequate, but it’s also entirely impossible. However, what can be said is very simple: it is an abstract, strange and absolutely delightful piece of metafictional cinema, a hilariously irreverent mockumentary that manages to deconstruct the artistic process in little over a half an hour, and finds itself being one of the year’s most fascinating experiments, an unexpectedly brilliant piece of postmodern artistry that may not amount to much more than just being a brief diversion into the realm of unabashed silliness, but still remains a rich, evocative and exceptionally unique short film that finds its footing precisely because of how unbelievably strange it is.

David Harbour III (played by David Harbour) is an actor hailing from a long line of actors. His father, David Harbour Jr. (also played by David Harbour) has long lived in the shadow of his father, David Harbour Sr. (played by David Harbour, if you can believe it), and has tried desperately to forge a name for himself in the acting industry. At the outset of the film, we are introduced to David III, who is going in search of his deceased father’s creative process, which manifested in what some would call his definitive masterpiece, Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein, which saw David Junior adapting Mary Shelley’s gothic masterpiece to fit his own sensibilities, which essentially means that he is going to write it so that he may play both Frankenstein and The Monster, which essentially gives rise to the beautifully convoluted plot that sees Dr Frankenstein become the Monster to his own creation, which doesn’t make much sense, but in the defence of this film, absolutely nothing in it does make even a lick of sense. Along the way, David III interviews various people who knew his father, including his agent (Michael Lerner), his producer (Mary Woronov) and the youthful femme fatale star of the play (Kate Berlant), in the hopes of gaining insights into the mind of his father and his creative process, which he hopes to manage to penetrate, simply for the sake of understanding what drove his father to the point of obsession that he perpetually demonstrated.

We could try and make sense of Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein and see it as an intricate deconstruction of the creative process, which it really is. Alternatively, we can look at it as a bit of mindless fun, a diverting and strange surreal piece that exists solely for the sake of being an offbeat excursion into the realm of the weird and wonderful. The beauty of this film is that both are equally as relevant, and make this such an enriching experience. It is odd to heap this amount of praise on something that is nothing more than an extended comedy sketch, something that feels ripped directly from the outtakes of Saturday Night Live (but from the earlier years, when this kind of abstract, surreal comedy was commonplace), but Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein really is that brilliant, a film that may be a third of the length of a feature film, but feels just as complete and worthwhile. There is so much that could’ve gone wrong in this film – it could’ve easily been excruciatingly unfunny, pretentious or malformed, and the threat of missing the target looms heavily over it. Yet, it deftly defies it to the point where it becomes one of the most wonderfully idiosyncratic comedy films of the past few years, something that may be short, but is no less impressive, both on a narrative and visual level.

Certainly, Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein was always going to be something I loved, especially when it becomes clear that the character of David Harbour Jr. was constructed as a parody of Orson Welles, an actor and director who I revere to an almost deity-like status, and who has been no stranger to loving ridicule over the years – it is impossible to possess the pretentions and joie de vivre that Welles had without being subjected to the occasional parody. This film, or in particular Harbour, captures the spirit of Welles perfectly – from his attempts to occupy every role he could in the production of a piece, to his obsessive perfectionism, to his excessive style of performance and even his penchant for the occasional commercial (normally for products he loved to indulge in, such as the recurring motif of London, USA’s beef wellington). Harbour has quietly been building a steady career filled to the brim with some impressive performances, and when he isn’t appearing as one of the sole saving graces of the otherwise troublesome Stranger Things, or in Hellboy, as the titular character in the most unnecessary superhero reboot in recent memory, he is able to appear in films like Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein, which make use of his strange sense of humour and ability to adapt himself to any role. What he does here may be outrageously funny, but it is also very impressive – essentially playing three different characters, Harbour is able to riff off his castmembers in a way that doesn’t detract attention from them, but rather enriches all of the performances. Harbour is steadily on the rise, and if he continues this standard of interesting work, there’s no doubt he’ll be heading towards becoming one of his generation’s most fascinating performers.

The best aspect of Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein is that it is just plain silly – this could have easily been a well-constructed, logical and intelligent comedy that follows the same formula as more traditional films of this ilk. It certainly does meet all these criteria, but in a way that is a lot more entertaining, taking its own route to success, and picking up a sense of unrelenting absurdity along the way. This is a film that is not afraid to have fun, and the audience can certainly see it in the way it is constructed. It is certainly quite small (there is a constant feeling that the cast and crew got together one weekend and decided to film this absurd little comedy for fun), but it does impress with its ability to not only capture the essence of the story, but also to visually replicate the era effectively – the “footage” that forms the core of the film is so well-produced and cohesive to the filmed stage plays of the time, the viewer is often fooled into thinking they are watching something from decades ago. This is testament to a variety of people – the director and writer, who successfully constructed a image of a familiar but bygone era, the cinematographer who captured the grainy, low-budget aesthetic and the actors, who bring the right amount of restraint and excess to the roles, always going too far to be natural, but holding back just enough before it became too ridiculous. It is certainly a film that relishes in how excessive it is, perhaps not in terms of the scope, but in how it resonates with those who grew up watching these exact kind of programmes, which were so awful, over-dramatic and utterly entertaining in every way.

Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein may not be much, but it is a lot of fun. It may not make much of an impact, and it could possibly be misunderstood by those who don’t find this very subtle and absurd humour particularly entertaining. Yet, this is a great little film, a hysterical mockumentary that takes a simple but effective look at artistry, albeit through a lens of sheer absurdity. I’m usually a great proponent for these daring projects that venture backwards and try and replicate the art of previous eras – nothing says postmodernism quite like recapturing the spirit of a bygone period in a way that is playful and sheds new insight into the artistic process. David Harbour is terrific (as are his supporting players, with Kate Berlant being hilarious, and the astoundingly generous Alfred Molina once again giving a tremendous performance as the most genial of acting teachers), and he demonstrates a range rarely seen in his more famous works. Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein may be ridiculous, over-the-top and sometimes intentionally awkward, but it all works splendidly in the realization of this strange short film that lies proudly off the beaten track. I do hope we see more films produced along these lines – I could easily see Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein being turned into a worthwhile feature-length film, or even a series (which is subtly implied, I found, but perhaps that’s just wishful thinking), and one can only hope that Harbour and the rest of the creative people behind this film are given more space to explore their quirky and idiosyncratic vision and satiate their shared appetite for the best kind of absurdity.