“Gods and Monsters,” directed by Bill Condon, based on the novel “Father of Frankenstein” by Christopher Bram. Running time: 105 minutes. No MPAA rating (brief nudity, mild profanity, adult content). Nightly, Feb. 15-18, Railroad Square Cinema, Waterville.

In late spring 1957, when director James Whale was found face down in his Pacific Palisades swimming pool, his lungs may have been heavy with the water that killed him, but his body — rigid and bloated from death — was nevertheless impeccably groomed in a smartly styled suit.

He chose to die as he had lived — with a measure of dignity, underscored with drama. Wittingly or not, he staged his death very much like a Hollywood film — specifically, the opening scene of “Sunset Boulevard,” which had premiered seven years earlier and which loosely paralleled Whale’s life: It was a film about a person no longer wanted by Hollywood, something Whale knew a thing or two about as it was his unwillingness to conceal his homosexuality that ultimately ruined him.

Perhaps the director took his life because he wanted another moment in the press. Perhaps he did so because he knew in his mischievous heart that nothing sets tongues wagging faster in Hollywood than a day-old corpse. Whatever the reason, speculation about the cause of his death became Hollywood lore.

Did somebody — perhaps a jilted lover or a murderous hustler — kill Whale, the director of “Frankenstein” (1931), “Bride of Frankenstein” (1935) and “The Invisible Man” (1933)? Or did he end his life himself?

Bill Condon’s excellent film “Gods and Monsters,” based on Christopher Bram’s speculative novel, “Father of Frankenstein,” cuts through the lore and answers that question in short order: His mind turning with loneliness and despair, dementia and great sadness, Whale (played superbly by Ian McKellan in an Academy Award-nominated performance) plunged headfirst into that pool and deliberately breathed in that water, ending what had been, in the 1930s, a celebrated life.

But Condon’s film, which closely follows the book, also has its share of fictional dish, fleshing out Whale’s character by introducing Clayton Boone (Brendan Fraser), a gardener, into the Englishman’s life. Young and strapping, his flattop haircut, square face and rugged build reminiscent of Whale’s monster, Boone also is a kind of god for Whale — the Greek type.

Here, in this deeply resonant, nuanced film, the two men discover, through their own unique relationship and in a series of Whale’s flashbacks, that our lives are but threads connecting us to gods and monsters, those relationships that shape who we were into what we’ve become.

With Academy Award-nominated Lynn Redgrave as Whale’s fiercely protective housekeeper, the film is marked by its performances, sparked by its humanity, driven by the past and fueled by the interior calamity of Whale’s present. It is not to be missed.

Grade: A-

“Message in a Bottle,” directed by Luis Mandoki. Written by Gerald DiPego, based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks. Running time: 126 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for mild adult content).

You’ve got to hand it to Kevin Costner, whose credo must be this: If you fail to succeed, try, try again. That’s a swell attitude for a Boy Scout, or even for an ex-con, but for a movie star whose last major hit was in 1992, it can be somewhat risky, as Costner must know by now.

Still, rather remarkably, he has followed his two biggest failures — the waterlogged “Waterworld” and the undeliverable “The Postman” — with “Message in a Bottle,” a film that combines elements of both as it ships its syrupy mail via the sea.

The uneven news here is that “Message” is better than its predecessors while never managing to rise above formula; indeed, this three-hanky romance is strictly by-the-numbers. Shot almost entirely in Maine, the film has been manufactured for the hearts-and-flowers crowd — it’s unabashedly schmaltzy yet nevertheless well-acted, featuring Robin Wright Penn as a love-struck divorcee and Paul Newman as Costner’s cranky, yet fiercely loving father.

The film has its affecting moments, but counterattacks them with bleeding-heart dialogue, great big shots of great big rainbows, a marshmallow fight on a beach and hot, sweaty sex in Chicago. The film’s ending, however, sends it all down a whirlpool. At this point they decide to break from formula? Return to sender!

But expect a big hit at the box office.

Grade: C+

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear each Monday in the NEWS. Each week on WLBZ’s “News Center 5:30 Today,” he reviews current feature films (Tuesdays) and what’s new and worth renting at video stores (Thursdays).