Branagh both directed the movie and played Victor Frankenstein, and it quickly becomes clear that he was equipped to handle about half of one of those tasks. His Frankenstein is the least subtle man on the planet, constantly voicing his intentions aloud, which is not helpful when your intentions are to dig up bodies and electrocute them in an experiment that you just now made up. Every moment, no matter how small, is accompanied by a score that sounds like someone threw an entire brass section at your head. And Robert De Niro plays the monster, which is a casting choice that you'd think that someone would've caught when they were proofreading the shooting schedule.
The movie was meant to be the most faithful adaptation of Mary Shelley's novel ever, and in its quest to get Frankenstein BINGO, it gets nearly everything wrong. However, it does get one thing remarkably correct: It understands that, while the father/son relationship between Frankenstein and his creature is important, what's also important is the dick-waving contest that it devolves into.
See, most Frankenstein adaptations never quite get to the part where the monster and the scientist start c**k-blocking each other at every opportunity. The most famous version of Frankenstein, the one made in 1931, is an hour long and is like a Greatest Hits collection of the book. And Bride Of Frankenstein only features the bride for about five minutes before the monster get angsty and decides to literally blow up every living cast member.