Poor Things

Yorgos Lanthimos had already carved out a singular place in cinema with The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer, establishing himself as a master of strange and unsettling storytelling. With Poor Things, the Greek director merges that sensibility with gothic fantasy and a feminist rebirth narrative, producing what may be the most ambitious and visually sumptuous film of his career. Adapted from Alasdair Gray's novel of the same name, the film draws inspiration from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein while finding its own wholly original voice.

The character of Bella Baxter is a strong contender for one of the most fascinating female protagonists in cinema history. After a pregnant woman takes her own life, the eccentric scientist Dr. Godwin Baxter resurrects her by transplanting the brain of her unborn child into her skull — making Bella, in every sense, a tabula rasa. This existence, beginning with an infant's mind inside an adult body, becomes a razor-sharp allegory for the way women are socially shaped and conditioned. Poor Things is a bildungsroman that follows Bella from learning to walk like a baby, to discovering her sexuality, to questioning moral concepts, to constructing her own identity.

The film's geography — from the streets of Lisbon to the grand salons of Paris, from the rolling waters of the Mediterranean back to the foggy avenues of London — maps the terrain of a woman's journey toward emancipation. The patriarchal manipulation embodied by the character of Duncan Wedderburn becomes a work of absurdist comedy when it collides with Bella's innocent gaze. The unscrupulous lawyer played by Mark Ruffalo transforms into a tragicomic figure as the woman he tries to control grows increasingly powerful.

The visual language of Poor Things is, in the truest sense of the word, spellbinding. Cinematographer Robbie Ryan uses different lenses and film stocks across various sections of the film, visually mirroring Bella's mental development. The early London scenes are shot with fisheye lenses in a blurry, black-and-white world — as if seen through the eyes of an infant. As Bella discovers the world, colors explode, angles normalize, and everything sharpens into focus. The production design, which reinterprets Victorian architecture through a steampunk aesthetic, integrates seamlessly with Holly Waddington's extraordinary costume work to create a universe that is simultaneously dystopian and irresistibly alluring.

Emma Stone won the Oscar for her performance in Poor Things, and the award is entirely deserved. She conveys Bella's transformation from infant to grown woman in every detail — her physical movements, her manner of speech, her gaze, her gait. Watching her evolve from the unsteady, uncontrolled gestures of the opening scenes to the self-assured, direct-eyed strength of the film's final act is, in itself, a cinematic experience. Stone delivers a performance that is simultaneously comedic, dramatic, and extraordinarily courageous.

Willem Dafoe's interpretation of Dr. Godwin Baxter forms the emotional heart of the film. Scarred, physically deformed, yet sincere and bound to Bella with a genuinely paternal love, this character is a modern reimagining of Frankenstein's creator. Dafoe manages to project a deeply human warmth from beneath layers of prosthetic makeup.

The film's score, composed by Jerskin Fendrix with an experimental and unsettling sensibility, fits perfectly into Lanthimos's strange universe. The fusion of classical instruments with electronic sounds supports the film's atmosphere, which feels simultaneously historical and timeless.

Looking behind the scenes, Poor Things has some fascinating production details. Emma Stone spent nearly a year preparing for the role, working with physical therapists to perfect the infantile movements. Most of the film was shot on purpose-built sets in studios in Hungary — sets that drew inspiration from real Victorian architecture but were enriched with entirely fantastical elements. The hybrid animals in Godwin Baxter's home, in particular, were designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop.

One intriguing detail is the film's use of color. Lanthimos and his cinematographer chose a distinct color palette for each city: London is cold and grey, Lisbon is rendered in warm golden tones, and Paris is saturated with vivid, vibrant hues.

Poor Things is a visually astonishing and intellectually rich cinematic experience that conveys a feminist perspective through the language of gothic fairy tale. The cold distance present in Lanthimos's earlier films gives way here to a warmer yet equally sharp mode of storytelling. The film champions a woman's right to claim ownership of her own body, sexuality, and identity, all while blending absurdist comedy with elements of gothic horror.

For Turkish cinephiles, Poor Things occupies an interesting position — both as an experience that pushes the boundaries of art cinema and as a darling of the mainstream awards season. The film's explicit scenes and radical themes may challenge some viewers, but it stands as a beautiful testament to how bold and free the art of cinema can be. Poor Things is one of those rare films that demands to be seen, demands to be discussed, and exploits the full possibilities of cinematic language to their very limits.