Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell, directed by Terence Fisher and written by John Elder (also known as Anthony Hinds), includes performances by Peter Cushing, David Prowse, Shane Briant, Madeline Smith, and John Stratton. James Bernard handled the music while Brian Probyn served as cinematographer. Doctor Victor, portrayed by Cushing, operates as the chief physician at a mental institution housing criminally insane individuals. When Simon Helder (Briant), an accomplished doctor and follower of Frankenstein’s methods, is committed under charges of sorcery, they quickly form a partnership that will bring forth Frankenstein's newest creation... The film was actually produced in 1972 but wasn’t released until two years later, coinciding with the decline of Hammer Horror. It marked the final installment in the Frankenstein series and Fisher’s last directorial effort. The movie has a complicated reputation; initial box office receipts and reviews indicated it underperformed. However, dedicated Hammer Horror enthusiasts have developed an appreciation for it, which I believe is justified because it largely revisits earlier successes, if not in scale, then certainly in narrative style and atmosphere. It’s fair to say the story closely resembles Revenge of Frankenstein, so there's a sense of repetition, but I suspect that bringing back Cushing, Fisher, and Hinds suggests they were making something for the fans, and it has its strengths despite the familiar plot and budget limitations. It’s wonderful to see Cushing return as Victor; his personal struggles give him a drawn appearance that perfectly complements Frankenstein's character development, even with the ill-fitting wig he wears and an odd moment of heroic action that feels out of place. Briant is energetic and serves as a good contrast in the complicated world of surgery, and Smith contributes to the Hammer aesthetic without resorting to nudity. Why? Why? Why? However, the film truly shines with its setting—the asylum and its inhabitants—and particularly with the monster itself. Prowse’s portrayal brings back a tragic figure; it's a creature possessing the brain of a genius who sought escape from life, the hands of a skilled artisan, and a Neolithic body. Once he understands what he has become, his sadness is palpable, conveyed effectively through visual reactions and physical movements by Prowse. The mask does create an issue when he speaks because the lips don’t move, but it remains a respectable Hammer creation nonetheless. The asylum inmates are peculiar and disturbing, and with most of the filming confined to just a few interior sets, the feeling of confinement is strong. Props are sparse, consisting mostly of some unusual tools and machinery belonging to the doctors. Gore is used sparingly, yet has an impact consistent with Hammer traditions, while the backstories of Smith’s silent character and Asylum Director Adolf Klauss (Stratton) offer intriguing details waiting to be explored in a theatrical fashion. It isn't a fitting farewell for Doc Frank within the Hammer universe, especially because the ending lacks power, but it demonstrates affection and genuine respect from those who made it. 6.5/10

Source on TMDB