Space 1979 Wells-A-Thon: The one that everyone hated

 

Title: The Island of Dr. Moreau

What Year?: 1996

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: Pretty Good! (5/5)

 

With 79 reviews now under the belt, I have once again decided that it’s time for something new. I’m starting off with a body of material I have already been considering for a while, but didn’t quite fit with the chronology or other criteria I had laid out (not that that wasn’t already shot to Hell). This will be a lineup of movies based on the works of H.G. Wells, which as we will see includes a very diverse range of material. To really dive in, I’m opening with the most notorious example of all, a film that became the definitive example of a critical and box office bomb, without ever getting the reevaluation that such movies often attract sooner or later. I am happy to lead that charge, because it is easily among the best Wells adaptation I have encountered. Here is Island of Dr. Moreau, 1990s edition.

Our story begins with our protagonist on a lifeboat with two soldiers who kill each other fighting over the last of their water. We learn that he is a UN negotiator named Douglas, who for some reason never really demonstrates the skill sets that his career would imply. He is rescued by a medical man named Montgomery, who takes him to the island headquarters of a project that the doctor is evasive about. The newcomer meets several of the staff, whose appearance and behavior is just a little off. After an abortive escape attempt, he learns that the people of the island are really animals genetically engineered into human-like creatures by the chief of the project, a disconcertingly charming scientist named Moreau. As part of their uplift, they have been given the Law, a rudimentary religion that prohibits all violence and any further reversion to their animal behavior, enforced with electroshock implants under Moreau’s control. Soon, the doctor’s hospitality wears thin, and Douglas begins to suspect that his own presence in part of one more experiment. Meanwhile, a recalcitrant hyena creature begins finding the weaknesses in the doctor’s control, and gathers more of the humanoids for a revolt. As the rebellion unfolds, the island becomes a true Hell on Earth, and Douglas has only his wits to stay alive!

The Island of Dr. Moreau was a production of New Line Cinema based on the H.G. Wells novel of the same name. It was the second adaptation of the novel since 1933’s Island of Lost Souls, the other being a 1977 AIP release. Both of the later movies used significant elements that the black-and-white film had added to the novel, including a cat-woman character portrayed to varying degrees as a romantic interest. The project was reportedly conceived by the original director Richard Stanley, who retained credit for the screenplay. The production became notorious for numerous delays and personality conflicts, including the departure of Stanley and the effective demotion of Val Kilmer from the role of Douglas to that of Montgomery. The film was ultimately completed by John Frankenheimer with Marlon Brando as Moreau and David Thewlis as Douglas. Additional cast included Fairuza Balk as the cat-woman Aissa and Ron Perlman as the Sayer of the Law. Makeup and other practical effects were provided by Oscar winner Stan Winston (see also Invaders From Mars).  Despite its reputation as a money loser, the movie was made for a relatively modest $40 million and received almost $50M at the box office. A 100-minute “director’s cut” was released by 2006, when the movie appeared in a multipack with 1987’s The Hidden, and may be considered easier to obtain than the 96 minute theatrical version.

For my experiences, my most significant recollections are watching the 1977 movie on TV well before the ‘90s movie came out, and reading the novel not too long after. I consider the book to be in many ways Wells’ best and by any standard his bleakest. I have long regarded it as an informal trilogy with The Time Machine and War of the Worlds, all unified by a singularly dark view of the social and ethical implications of evolutionary theory. With the full benefit of hindsight, it was never a “good” fit for the Hollywood mainstream. This makes it all the more striking that high-profile filmmakers have gone at it a full three times, at least equal to any other Wells “property” outside of The Invisible Man. The curious part is that the 1990s version in particular would be the focus of so much notoriety, without any corresponding push of revisionism. As for as its presence here, I personally had long considered reviewing the ‘70s version, but didn’t really give any thought to the present film until I happened to give my copy of the director’s cut another look about a month before the present review. That was enough to convince me that it belonged here, and gave me the further motivation to spend a little money for the theatrical version. After seeing both versions, I can confidently that either one is more faithful to Wells and flat-out better than any number of better-received adaptations, which unfortunately could be enough of answer to why it has fared so poorly.

Moving forward, the first thing to get out of the way is the central image of Marlon Brando made up as the literal Pope, which the film’s own ads seemed to try to make ridiculous. In the actual film, it’s Dr. Moreau’s first appearance, and in context, it’s among the first of many effective and unsettling uses of religious imagery. The scene itself unfolds as a tense confrontation between Douglas, Moreau and the humanoids, which the doctor manages to defuse with unsettling ease. After returning to his estate, colonial and racial baggage quickly pile up on top of the discomforting Christian subtexts as we meet his “children”, a group of humanoids groomed and dressed as the house staff. Winston’s effects add an extra layer of awkwardness, making these most anthropomorphic of the humanoids just different enough to trigger an “uncanny valley” reaction not present in other creatures we see before and since. Extra mention is in order for Balk and Temuera Derek Morrison as the dog-man Azazello, whose initially subservient character will become representative of the disorder and decay that follows. I personally find an extra distraction in a kind of humunculus, apparently played by actual midget Nelson De Larossa. It’s jarring enough to work out that the character isn’t simply a puppet, but I find it all the more unsettling that his features seem human, not animal. So who or what was he created from?

All of this remains a springboard for the main event as the Hyena-Pig (whose laughter is even more unpleasant than might be expected) leads the rebellion against Moreau. The overthrow of Moreau is a short but potent sequence, as the doctor maintains his charm long enough to delay what is clearly inevitable. We then see the possibly literal devolution of the humanoids as they scramble to seize the doctor’s power or just settle old grudges. The darkest arc is the fate of Aissa, making it altogether merciful that this is the one version not to run away with the romance angle. It’s also here that Kilmer, already almost embarrassingly entertaining, goes into high gear. As seen so far, he’s an apathetic foreman type on the verge of going native; now, he truly goes amok, all while doing a quite good imitation of Brando’s speech and mannerisms. It all builds up to a confrontation between the hyena creature and the Speaker of the Law, one more well-played character I haven’t gotten to. The religious allegory turns all the more potent when the rebel turns to Douglas to acknowledge him as Moreau’s successor. We’re then treated to the peak of Thewlis’s quite capable performance as he patiently spells out theology and philosophy, all the more noteworthy as his character finally acts like the skilled communicator he is supposed to be.

After all that, I still haven’t gotten to the “one scene”. It was really tough this time around, and a big part of the “problem” is how many of the good and effective scenes remain well-integrated with the story. With that in mind, there was a single sequence that stood out just for being uncharacteristically random. Around the halfway mark, Douglas makes one more bid to escape the island, this time getting as far as the boat at the dock. As he inspects the controls, there is chittering and the sound of movement. At first, he just looks around for the animal, but when something brushes by, he cries out. Finally, he follows the noise to a covered object that proves to be a cage. As he peers inside, a creature comes out of the darkness (the first and among the only ones clearly portrayed with CGI) that resembles nothing so much as the rat-monkey in Dead Alive. He withdraws with another cry, then discovers that more of the creatures are already loose on the deck. As they gather and advance, he apparently leaps overboard, and the next shot jumps to daylight with Dr. Moreau. As with the homunculus, it’s something that has no internal explanation. Are they rodents imbued with some measure of intelligence, or crossed with primates? Or are they something shrunk and degraded down to a rodent’s size and form? The most unsettling and undoubtedly effective part is that no answer will be forthcoming.

In closing, I can’t do better than repeat what I have already said: This is simply one of the best movies out there based on Wells’ work, both in quality and attention to the source material. The unfortunate “other side” is that it is one of the last Wells adaptations of any significance, with only the post-2000 remakes of The Time Machine and War of the Worlds coming later. (I will not count House Of Pain.) It’s all the more depressing that Island of Dr. Moreau is the one that is more applicable than Wells could have guessed in the era of genetic engineering and the internet. Still, we can hope that as time passes, there will be new interest in the film, the novel, and Wells in general. The more things change, the more the question will remain the same: “Who is God Number One?”