The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996) - film review

United Nations negotiator Edward Douglas is the sole survivor of an aeroplane crash in the Pacific Ocean.  He is picked up by a man named Montgomery and taken to a remote island where a reclusive scientist, Dr Moreau, is performing some highly unorthodox experiments.  Douglas is appalled when he learns that Moreau has been injecting animals with human DNA in an attempt to produce the perfect being, a creature that is incapable of acting or thinking violently.  He is even more sickened when he learns that the scientist has developed a method of shock therapy to control his ever growing stock of hybrid rejects.  Moreau is confident that he is close to achieving his dream, but the monstrosities he has created are about to bring his research to a spectacular end...

Whilst it may have gained something of a cult following, there is no denying that this is one of the daftest adaptations of an H.G. Wells story. Incredible to think that a director of the calibre of John Frankenheimer could have made such a spectacular mess of a film that had so much promise, although, to be fair, the odds were stacked against him.  Not only was he brought in as a last minute replacement for another director (Richard Stanley, who was sacked, allegedly at the instigation of Val Kilmer), but he also had Marlon Brando (the Devil in human form for most directors) and just about the worst sci-fi script ever written to contend with.  A lesser man would have given up on day one and taken early retirement, and it’s a pity Frankenheimer didn’t do just that.    

Marlon Brando has been (justly) pilloried for his performance in this film, but when you consider the totally anaemic contributions from his co-stars, his ludicrously camp portrayal of Dr Moreau is just about the only thing going for this film.  Exuding more ham than an abattoir stuffed with overweight pigs, Brando looks suspiciously as if he is auditioning for a part in La Cage aux folles.  Evidently, Dr Moreau’s real area of expertise is advanced perfumery and indoor fabrics design, genetics being just a side line of his.   But who cares anyway?   Even if Brando had taken the job seriously, the film would still have ended up looking like a turkey-shaped misfire.

© Alex Sullivan 2009

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