Frankenstein’s Daughter appears in an aspect ratio of approximately 1.85:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. Though iffy at times, this was usually an acceptable presentation.
Overall sharpness seemed good, but exceptions occurred, as some shots felt a bit soft. Nonetheless, the majority of the film offered positive delineation.
The image lacked jagged edges or moiré effects, and edge haloes remained absent. With a fine layer of grain, I suspected no digital noise reduction, but print flaws became a distraction.
These popped up persistently through the film. Though never heavy, the specks created a consistent issue.
Blacks looked dark and deep, while shadows were smooth and clear. Without the print flaws, I’d like this image a lot, but the defects left it as a “C+”.
As for the film’s DTS-HD MA monaural soundtrack, it worked fine given the era of its origins. Speech remained a little thin but still appeared reasonably natural, without edginess or other issues.
Music showed pretty good range and punch, while effects came across as a bit lifeless but accurate and clean enough. The audio held up nicely over the last 64 years.
The disc provides a mix of extras, and we find an audio commentary from film historian Tom Weaver. He offers a running, screen-specific discussion of story/characters/genre, cast and crew, and various production/genre domains.
Weaver doesn’t operate on his own, as he occasionally cues taped remarks from others. We get sporadic notes from journalist Steven Cronenberg, actors Robert Kokai and John Ashley, filmmaker Larry Blamire, makeup artist Harry Thomas and film score historian David Schechter.
A veteran of the format, Weaver is money in the bank, and that trend continues here. He brings us a brisk, entertaining and informative view of the film, though Weaver’s unnecessary references to the COVID pandemic make me wonder if he owns a red baseball hat, and these asides seem pointlessly antagonistic and inappropriate.
Note that the Blu-ray’s case claims that the disc will also include a commentary from filmmaker Larry Blamire. None appears, though as mentioned, Blamire pops up during Weaver’s chat. The disc’s menu also credits its sole commentary to Jason A. Ney, but it’s Weaver.
Filmmaker of the Unknown runs 36 minutes and provides material from 1983. Back then, Weaver sent questions to director Richard E. Cunha, and he got videotaped responses in return.
Cunha acts as the focus of this collection of nearly 40-year-old comments, though we also hear from producer Arthur A. Jacobs as well. This becomes a good exploration of Cunha’s life and career.
Next comes Man from the B’s, a 10-minute, 15-second featurette that includes notes from film historian C. Courtney Joyner as he discusses actor/producer John Ashley. Joyner offers a tight overview.
The set concludes with a booklet that features photos and an essay from Weaver. He offers a succinct overview.
A then-modern-day update on the classic tale, Frankenstein’s Daughter comes with enough intriguing alterations to make the viewer hope it will bring us something interesting. Unfortunately, it winds up as a scattered, less than coherent attempt at horror that fails to go much of anywhere. The Blu-ray brings acceptable picture and audio along with a mix of bonus materials. This feels like a subpar 1950s monster movie.