There is a force of orchestral power in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein that overcomes the composer's often fluffy and dainty structural tendencies, taking that familiar hopelessly romantic allure and injecting it with so much bombast that the still harmonic burst of energy is monumentally unique, despite remaining recognizable as a Doyle entry. The scope of the recording is an outstanding asset, especially when brass layers do sonic battle. There is interestingly no choral accompaniment in this score, a shame given that Doyle had employed singers in his previous works and could have forgiven himself for such silly usage in Needful Things. A rich balance between the sections of the orchestra is aided by occasional organ, but medium range drums mixed too much at forefront are a detriment during some propulsive cues (especially the final two minutes of the score). The rowdy force of "The Creation" approaches Elliot Goldenthal territory in its densely challenging, extremely brutal tone, especially from the brass. On the other end of the score, several earlier cues express the flowing strings and flourishes of woodwinds that you'd expect in this era of Doyle's music, but with greater depth. Several melodies run throughout Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, anchored by the love theme for Victor and Elizabeth that is fully developed in "The Wedding Night" (though already explored in previous cues throughout the film). Written before the film was shot, this theme is expressive Doyle romanticism at its melodramatic pinnacle. The creature is provided a wailing brass motif (once again reminding of Goldenthal in its defiance of pitch) that extends from its birth to its fiery demise in "He Was My Father." The score features a title theme that is unfortunately under-utilized, though it is very well stated several times at the outset in "To Think of a Story." Doyle would humorously reference parts of this theme in his much later score for the animated film Igor, and its extremely heavy, downbeat personality would have been a welcome addition to more of the meat of the score. Among the best aspects of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is its frantic pacing, almost always returning to a fierce, rolling sense of momentum after brief interludes of romanticism. Even "The Honeymoon" isn't immune from this frightening, forward movement. In this regard, Doyle perfectly captures the definition of obsession in his music. The entire score is an expression of tragedy to behold, an immense career achievement that suffers from a tendency to collapse under its own weight after a while. Expect a demanding listening experience that will tax your stamina and make you wonder why Doyle has not further explored this type of music in subsequent years.  ****   @Amazon.com: CD or Download