Where Was Frankenstein Filmed? Inside Guillermo del Toro’s Handcrafted Gothic Vision

The locations that influenced Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025) are strikingly potent characters in and of themselves; they are imposing, evocative, and emotionally complex. The production created a film that feels both monumental and intimate by fusing the grandeur of British estates with the frigid isolation of Canadian landscapes. Early in 2024, filming got underway at Toronto’s Cinespace Studios, where del Toro’s crew constructed ornate sets before traveling throughout the United Kingdom to find real Gothic buildings.

Known for his painstaking craftsmanship, Del Toro stressed that nearly every element in Frankenstein was created by hand. His vision reflected the aesthetic of Mary Shelley’s original imagination, and it was particularly tactile and detailed. In a time when green screens were the norm, the team’s method was especially novel: they built full-scale environments where actors could physically occupy their spaces.

Filmed at Lake Nipissing in North Bay, Ontario, the Arctic scenes depict Victor Frankenstein’s emotional desolation. The Horisont was a massive ship that the crew built from the ground up. Under studio lights, they created the appearance of glacial ice using Plexiglas, wax, and actual metal. A remarkably realistic sense of danger was created by the set’s mechanical rocking on a gimbal. On screen, the outcome was remarkably obvious—every ice crunch and blast of frozen air felt real, not simulated.

Del Toro immersed viewers in Victor Frankenstein’s ancestral world as the story made its way back to Europe. Four magnificent estates were used in the production to recreate that lineage: Wilton House in Wiltshire, Burghley House in Lincolnshire, Dunecht House in Aberdeenshire, and Gosford House in East Lothian. Although each site had its own distinct architectural character, taken as a whole, they created a coherent picture of moral decay and inherited grandeur.

Film and Production Information

The emotional center was Gosford House. Its double staircase, which was used for a very poignant wedding scene, was illuminated by flickering candles, which accentuated the sense of beauty and dread. The contrast between creation and destruction in the movie was aptly represented by the estate, which was encircled by verdant woodlands and a gentle grey sea. Tamara Deverell, the production designer, described it as “a home that feels alive with memory.”

Another level of gravity was added by Burghley House. Family scenes in the Great Hall and Bow Room emphasized Victor’s internal struggle between emotion and reason. Burghley’s 18th-century details, such as its low, eerie ceilings and oak-paneled walls, were especially helpful to the filmmakers. The fact that Barry Lyndon, directed by Stanley Kubrick, was also filmed there is no accident; del Toro loved the location for its timeless cinematic resonance.

Wilton House encapsulated the tragic opulence of Frankenstein’s descent with its expansive marble halls and Palladian symmetry. For scenes examining guilt and atonement, the production used its dining room and cemetery. The interiors were made to seem luminous by Del Toro’s use of candlelight and reflective surfaces, which transformed the space into an emotional echo chamber. Although the house has long been a favorite in historical dramas like Bridgerton and Emma, it took on a new intimacy under del Toro’s direction, becoming more shadowed, vulnerable, and alive.

Dunecht House, further north, provided something completely different. It was well-known for its eclectic architecture, which combined Romanesque arches with Greek Revival columns, making it the ideal location for Victor’s experiments. The crew renovated its vast library, which turned into one of the movie’s most eye-catching sets. In order to achieve an eerily realistic finish, Deverell recalled how the team reconstructed shelves and polished floors. The sequence shot there combines academic accuracy with emotional sensitivity, demonstrating how successful the endeavor was.

Edinburgh, on the other hand, brought the adaptation back to its literary origins. The Royal Mile, Parliament Square, and tiny stone alleys like Lady Stair’s Close were all used for filming. The city’s texture, with its cobblestones shining in the rain and its historic alleys, vividly evoked Shelley’s imagination. Deverell remarked, “Old Edinburgh has that soaked Gothic charm we needed.” It doesn’t have any set dressing and is nearly completely period-accurate. You simply intervene and fire.

The production then headed west to the Scottish Highlands, Glasgow, and Arbroath. With their foggy moors and valleys, these locations made for ideal natural backgrounds for transition scenes. The striking landscape was more than just ornamental; it reflected Victor’s inner landscape, which was both majestic and tormented. VFX integration significantly enhanced portions of the sequence by fusing the Alberta Rocky Mountains with Scottish hills, adding depth without sacrificing authenticity.

Inspired by Scotland’s Wallace Tower in Ayr, del Toro’s team built Frankenstein’s laboratory at Pinewood Toronto, a colossal tower. With a height of almost 180 feet, it was constructed as an intricate miniature as well as a useful set. All throughout, the circular motifs represented the never-ending cycle of creation and consequence. Del Toro reinforced the idea that science and faith frequently mirror each other in their quest for power by using spiral staircases and circular windows to give the lab an almost spiritual geometry.

Digital effects were replaced inside the lab by water-cooled lights, mechanical devices, and actual copper coils. Viewers could sense the hum of machinery and the stifling heat of experimentation thanks to the aesthetic’s incredibly effective storytelling. An incredible sense of realism was added by using live electrical discharges instead of computer-generated imagery, making it seem as though the creature’s birth were taking place right in front of the viewer.

Due to the Creature’s escape, outdoor filming was resumed. A portion of the scene was shot in Canada’s Rockwood Conservation Area, where limestone cliffs and old forests made for an ethereal setting. The site was picked because of its organic symmetry, which gave the impression that time had naturally sculpted it. Rockwood’s twisted trees perfectly encapsulated Del Toro’s later statement that the Creature “belongs to nature more than to man.”

The way that Del Toro blends historical preservation with artistic production has been a particularly inventive aspect of his filmmaking style. He emphasized the timeless value of tangible craftsmanship by shooting in actual locations rather than virtual ones. In addition to providing a sense of realism that is becoming increasingly uncommon in large-scale filmmaking, his sets, handcrafted props, and authentic architecture grounded the narrative.

Beyond just being entertaining, the film’s production has already had an impact. Interest in Gosford, Wilton, and Burghley Houses has grown, according to tourism offices in England and Scotland. Similar to how Downton Abbey and The Crown once caused travel booms, fans who are eager to enter Frankenstein’s eerie hallways are scheduling guided tours. Local preservation initiatives have benefited greatly from this resurgence of interest in heritage cinema.