Mireya Mendoza
Francisca Imelda / Frankelda (voice)
I Am Frankelda
“What you imagine has long been imagining you.”
2025
1h 44m
Director: Arturo Ambriz
Overview
A gifted young writer in 19th-century Mexico journeys into her subconscious and comes face to face with characters from her own spooky stories.
Cast
12 people
Reviews
5 min readThe Book That Wrote Back
I’ve seen this trick before—the story that swallows its own author, the tale that turns on the teller. It’s a gothic staple, really: the writer who realizes too late that the monsters on the page are just echoes of the ones inside. But I Am Frankelda doesn’t just reheat that old chestnut.
It animates it, literally, with a kind of stop-motion sorcery that feels less like filmmaking and more like alchemy. The Ambriz brothers, working out of a family home turned gothic atelier, have crafted something rare: a movie that looks like a fever dream but moves like a living thing, its joints creaking with the weight of its own ambition.
What strikes me first isn’t the plot—though it’s there, a tangled thread about a 19th-century Mexican girl named Francisca who writes herself into her own horror stories—but the texture of the thing. The puppets aren’t just detailed; they’re alive in a way that digital animation often isn’t. Their faces are carved with deep grooves, their eyes glassy and unblinking, their movements slightly jerky, as if they’re fighting against the very frames that bring them to life.
There’s a moment early on where Francisca’s mother braids her hair, and the strands of yarn (real yarn, I’d bet) catch the light just so. It’s the kind of small, tactile detail that makes you believe, for a second, that these figures might actually exist when the cameras stop rolling.
The Ambriz brothers have said they wanted to make a film that felt like a “living painting,” and in that, they’ve succeeded. The world of Frankelda is drenched in the kind of chiaroscuro you’d find in a Rembrandt, all deep shadows and golden highlights, but with a distinctly Mexican twist. The creatures—half-human, half-nightmare—draw from a well of folklore that feels both ancient and freshly imagined.
There’s a mermaid with the gills of an axolotl, a skeletal prince who sings like a villain from a Disney movie if Disney had a taste for the macabre, and Frankelda herself, the titular terror, a gaunt figure with a face like a cracked porcelain doll. She’s less a monster than a mirror, reflecting back the fears of the girl who conjured her.
Audience Opinions
Audience 7.1/10
"A dazzling gothic stop-motion spectacle whose rushed, muddled story keeps it from matching its visual brilliance."
Handcrafted animation, intricate puppet work, and richly detailed sets make the film a standout visual achievement, with many viewers calling it beautiful, unique, and a proud showcase of Mexican talent. The emotional tone, dark fantasy world, and a few catchy musical numbers resonate strongly, especially for those drawn to spooky, melancholic stories. latestnetflix.com's read is that at the same time, a dense and sometimes incoherent script, uneven pacing, confusing lore, and underexplained character motivations leave a sizable portion of the audience admiring the craft more than the narrative.
What viewers praise
- Striking stop-motion craft Puppets, sets, and animation are repeatedly praised as stunning, detailed, and impressively executed on a modest budget.
- Distinct gothic atmosphere The mix of dark fantasy, horror touches, and melancholic tone creates a moody, memorable world that stands apart from typical family animation.
- Imaginative visual world-building Creature designs, color work, and playful visual ideas keep the screen packed with creativity even when the story stumbles.
- Cultural and artistic pride Many highlight it as a bold milestone for Mexican animation and express excitement and affection for its ambition and stylistic identity.
- Catchy standout songs A few musical numbers, especially a villainous anthem, stick in viewers’ heads and are celebrated as fun earworms.
Common complaints
- Disorganized storyline The plot is frequently described as messy or condensed, jumping through major beats without enough connective tissue.
- Weak character development Relationships, especially the central romance and the villain’s arc, often feel rushed, underexplained, or emotionally unearned.
- Confusing lore and ending The mythology of the terror realm and the film’s status as a prequel leave some viewers lost, with lingering questions by the finale.
- Inconsistent musical execution While individual songs can be catchy, several viewers find the lyrics clumsy, sequences overlong, or the musical label not fully justified.
- Tone and pacing issues Shifts between lighthearted and grim moments, combined with rapid emotional swings, create a jarring rhythm that undercuts the drama.
Recommended for
Stop-motion animation enthusiasts Gothic dark fantasy fans Horror-tinged family adventure lovers Musical fantasy experiment seekers Mexican genre cinema supporters
Full Plot (Spoilers)
Spoiler warning
This section contains the full plot, including major story reveals. Overview above stays spoiler-free.
Buzz & Rumors
Public reportsThey mortgaged two houses to finish a puppet musical.
HBO Max asked Roy and Arturo Ambriz for a 30-minute Frankelda special. The brothers took that budget as a down payment and built a feature instead. Los Angeles Times reported they mortgaged two homes to cover the rest. They are losing one of them to pay the debt. Their parents are credited as executive producers. Roy's wife, Ana Coronilla, designed production. Arturo's spouse, Irene Melis, shot it. Cinema Fantasma in Mexico City. First Mexican stop-motion feature. latestnetflix.com's take is that Wikipedia adds they raided savings meant for their other proposed film, The Ballad of the Phoenix.
Guillermo del Toro had already kicked in on their 2016 Kickstarter short Revoltoso. When they finished I Am Frankelda he watched it and called. They talked for hours. He told them they had made something unprecedented and that they would pull through even with the debt. Then he recut their lives. The festival print that opened Guadalajara on June 6, 2025, is not the Netflix print. The brothers recut the film on his notes and animated new scenes. They call that version the Grandfather Cut. Del Toro also walked it to Netflix. Deadline dated the worldwide buy February 20, 2026, with his quote calling it "a landmark in Mexican Stop-Motion animation and a true triumph of vision, tenacity and love for the craft." The streamer set June 12. 
Arturo told TheWrap that after they finished they did not know how to sell the film, and del Toro called daily with advice. That is not a mentor blurb. That is a bailout. Mexican theaters got the Cinepolis release first, October 23, 2025. The Numbers logged about $2.7 million internationally. Fantasia gave it the Silver Audience Award for animated feature. The Annies nominated Best Independent Feature. Rotten Tomatoes sat at 95 percent of 44 reviews. Metacritic 74.
The story is a 19th-century Mexican writer, Francisca Imelda, who cannot publish horror under her own name, so she becomes Frankelda, a Mary Shelley nod, then follows a prince into the realm her stories already built. Mireya Mendoza voices her. The film is dedicated to the brothers' aunt, soprano Lourdes Ambriz, who died in 2025. Roy told the Times they buy bootleg Frankelda socks on Temu because the quality is terrible and therefore beautiful. He also said AI is the antithesis of stop-motion and they are not interested. Their next feature is The Ballad of the Phoenix, the project whose savings they raided to make this one.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diRwnGRr-Ko
Netflix's trailer is on the main channel if you want the puppets without the mortgage.
Entertainment rumors and trivia aggregated from public reporting. Treat speculation as unverified unless a cited source confirms it.
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