Entry 54: The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996)

The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996)

Dir: John Frankenheimer

"The gates of hell are unlocked."


This one's been receiving a bit of press lately; it's the subject of a just-released documentary chronicling the batshit-insane fuckery that went on behind-the-scenes of it's production, and it's also recently been covered by the popular "How Did This Get Made" podcast...

After a bit of heavy-handed narration (in which he compares squabbling men to beasts...subtle!), shipwreck survivor Douglas (David Thewlis, DragonHeart, The Big Lebowski) is rescued by Montgomery (Val Kilmer, Real Genius, The Doors) and taken to the titular island.  Douglas is suspicious of being confined to quarters, and escapes into the jungle, where he runs afoul of a grotesque pig-man and sexy Fairuza Balk (Return to Oz, The Craft).  Balk reveals that the entire island is populated by mutated beast-men, and brings Douglas to meet Sayer of the Law (genre legend Ron Perlman, TVs Beauty and the Beast, Hellboy).  Then, in one of the craziest cinematic introductions of all time, Douglas meets island ruler Dr. Moreau (Marlon Brando, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now), who appears riding in an insect net-shrouded cart, caked in chalk-white suntan lotion, wearing a white mu-mu and what appears to be a condom on his head and attended by a deformed little person who dresses identically.  Moreau reveals that the denizens of the island were all once animals that he has injected with human DNA, and that they all live under his "protection," which involves the forbidding of meat-eating and administering electric shocks to curb bad behavior.  Of course, the whole thing goes to shit when dickish Montgomery (apparently for no other reason other than to be an asshole) begins tempting the once-animals with flesh and firearms.  After Moreau's "children" messily devour him, Douglas searches for a cure for Balk (who is rapidly degenerating into a cat), while Montgomery dons Moreau's makeup and mu-mu and attempts to become the new King of the Beasts, but is shot dead for his trouble.  After cat-Balk is lynched by the beast-men while attempting to flee the island, Douglas manages to escape on a log-crafted raft...

This movie is fucking nuts.  I could write a book on the behind-the-scenes shenanigans of the notoriously troubled production.  In short summary, this was to be the Hollywood debut for acclaimed cult director/crazy person Richard Stanley (I'm serious about the "crazy" part; he currently lives in a castle and claims to be in love with a ghost haunting it), who had previously made two well-received indie horror films, the postapocalyptic gorefest Hardware (1990) and the dreamlike South African serial killer film Dust Devil (1992).  Stanley had envisioned the film as a relatively faithful adaptation of the H.G. Welles novella, but with updated science, R-rated gore and a look and tone inspired by Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust.  Stanley immediately clashed with Kilmer (in the midst of his super-assholey, post-The Doors method period), who used his clout to have Stanley fired after three days of filming.  Kilmer then decided he didn't want to be on-set for the amount of time his primary character role would have required and forced the new screenwriters to re-write his role as a fairly minor villain, assigning much of his original dialogue to Pearlman.  That's nothing compared to Brando, however, whose list of insane behavior includes:
-insisting on a "sun allergy" being written in for his character which would require him to be smeared with thick white sunscreen during most scenes, allowing his stand-in to perform more of his scenes
-refusing to learn his lines and demanding that a PA read them to him through an ear piece in real-time, resulting in a halting, stilted delivery for all of his lines
-demanding that the script be rewritten to accommodate a dwarf actor he'd become friendly with.  This new character would follow Brando around during all scenes, dressed exactly like him.  This change required a major dramatic subplot to be dropped
-refusing to work closely with Kilmer for unknown reasons.  This pissed Kilmer off and resulted in him often acting in a slurred, mean-spirited Brando impersonation
 Veteran studio director Frankenheimer (The Manchurian Candidate, Black Sunday) does his best to hold the proceedings together, but fails utterly.  Thewlis and Balk do the best they can, but their well-intentioned performances are utterly drowned out by Brando's awkward line readings and Kilmer dancing around like a maniac and making out with mutant pig-women.  This is certainly some kind of classic of madness; check it out, then be sure to follow it up with the Lost Souls documentary.