Thrice Told Tales: Are Scientists Mad?

In the trailer and promotional material for 1944’s House of Frankenstein, the sell was having all the monsters together: Frankenstein’s Monster, the Wolf Man, Dracula, “the” Hunchback, and the Mad Scientist. Two of those five are not like the others – the hunchback and the scientist aren’t monsters under most definitions. And yet, when I collected those Aurora Monster Model Kits, you could get a Hunchback model (from The Hunchback of Notre Dame) and a model of the Mad Scientist.

Strangely, the Mad Scientist was not a prominent figure in 1950s science fiction monster movies. Even when “science” caused the creation of the monster (usually an atomic bomb), the scientists were the ones solving the problem. They weren’t mad, they were the heroes.

In real life, over the last five years or so, some of our most divisive debates (about Covid and trans issues and climate change) include very little agreement about The Science. Or the scientists. Our current collection of Thrice Told Tales also leaves us with a question: Are the scientists the heroes or the villains?

In H. G. Wells’ 1896 science fiction novel, The Island of Dr. Moreau, there is no doubt that the scientist is the villain. And that he is not - in the strictest sense - sane. The novel tells the story of Edward Prendick, shipwrecked and stranded on an island controlled by Dr. Moreau. The doctor had been forced to leave England a decade earlier because of his controversial experiments involving vivisection. Turns out those experiments continue as he pursues his goal of turning animals into people. In the novel and all of the film versions of the story, things don’t go well for the doctor. Or, really, for any of the characters.

There have been a number of unauthorized adaptations, including a 1913 French film, Ile d'Epouvante (The Island of Terror); a 1921 German version, Die Insel der Verschollenen (The Island of the Lost); a 1959 Filipino version, Terror is a Man; and the version made by 13-year-old Tim Burton, 1971’s The Island of Dr. Agor.

But there have been three versions that have acknowledged the source, an ideal for one of these posts.

The Island of Lost Souls (1932)

Paramount Pictures paid H. G. Wells $15,000 for the rights to film his novel. I’ll admit to thinking of Wells as a 19th-century figure, but he actually lived through WWII, dying in 1946. So he, in all likelihood, watched this adaptation of his novel.

Paramount was looking to compete with Universal in the business of horror films. The previous year, Universal produced the very successful adaptations of Frankenstein and Dracula. But that same year (1931), Paramount made a very successful horror adaptation, Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

One of the great strengths of this film is the performance of Charles Laughton as Doctor Moreau. Laughton came to America from England in 1931 and made his debut on Broadway. He immediately received offers to come to Hollywood, but not for any particular role, so he was available for this film after making The Old Dark House with Boris Karloff for Universal and playing Nero in Cecil B. DeMille’s The Sign of the Cross. Many remember Laughton as Moreau saying, “The natives are restless tonight.” Though he never said that. The actual dialogue in the film was (in reference to those who live on the island – the natives, in a way), "They are restless tonight.”

Bela Lugosi was cast after production had already begun. He took the job because he was bankrupt. The year before he had turned down the role of Frankenstein’s Monster after his success as Dracula because he didn’t want his face hidden under all that make-up. But he had plenty of make-up as the Sayer of the Law, the leader of the Beast Men.

Kathleen Burke won the role of Lota, the Panther Woman, in a competition among 60,000 entries. Her career in films only lasted six years; she was never able to overcome being typecast following this first role.

In this version of the story, Moreau has made it his goal to “accelerate evolution.” He began with plants and moved on to using plastic surgery, blood transfusions, gland extracts, and ray baths to transform animals into human beings. He then tries to keep the Beast Men in line as their Creator. Moreau tips his hand to his secret motivation when he says, “Do you know what it means to feel like God?”

This is a running theme in films with mad scientists, from Frankenstein on: the sin of taking the place of God. This isn’t just a problem of the past. The yard signs reading, “In this house we believe Science is Real,” are saying that the word of a scientist should be taken as truth above any other – especially, say, theologians or traditional ethics.

There is a reason Dr. Anthony Fauci’s face was found on devotional candles.

A scientist couldn’t possibly do a bad thing.

The Island of Doctor Moreau (1977)

American International Pictures was formed in 1955 by James Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff, dedicated primarily to making low-budget films directed at the teen market. Sam used his own name as an acronym to clarify his filmmaking philosophy:

Action

Revolution (controversy)

Killing

Oratory

Fantasy

Fornication

So, horror and science fiction were a large part of American International’s output, but how much better to have all of those elements and class it up with classic literary sources (that are in the public domain)? So, for AIP, Roger Corman made adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe, starting with The Fall of the House of Usher. Films were made based on the work of Jules Verne (Master of the World), so why not H. G. Wells?

The story offered Action - man vs. animal fights; Revolution - science pushed to the edge; Killing - people killing people, people killing animals, animals killing people; Oratory - fine speeches about man’s inhumanity to man by Moreau; Fantasy - did I mention animals are transformed into people; and Fornication - Michael York is in love with a beautiful woman… Or is she really a woman?

How could they top Charles Laughton as Moreau? Burt Lancaster comes close in the (jungle) scenery chewing department. He goes on and on about how his research is helping him understand the bestial nature of man and how he can make the world a better place by turning animals into men.

And maybe men into something better?

This is madness, of course, messing with the basic nature of creatures. One might as well be trying to change a man into a woman or a woman into a man.

And though we don’t get Bela Lugosi as the Sayer of the Law, we do get Richard Basehart (a great sop to those of us who watched him as Admiral Nelson in Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea).

It’s actually a decent telling of the story, though not quite the story in the book. Still, I was concerned about the use of animals in the film. There are lions and tigers and bears, and, at times, they are actually wrestling with humans. The animals in the film seem to be actually exposed to fire and flood. (There is no notice at the end of the film from the Humane Society that “No Animals Were Harmed.”)

The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996)

On paper, this had the makings of a great film. It was directed by John Frankenheimer, creator of some true classics such as Birdman of Alcatraz, The Manchurian Candidate, and The Train (even his sequel to a classic, The French Connection II, compares favorably to the original).

Two-time Oscar winner Marlon Brando (On the Waterfront and The Godfather) plays the mad doctor. Val Kilmer, a couple of years after he played Doc Holliday in Tombstone, and the same year he made the highly underrated The Ghost and the Darkness, has a starring role. Ron Perlman, who would make a career playing Man/Beasts (Beauty and the Beast and Hellboy), is the Sayer of the Law.

But instead of making a great film.

Or a good film.

Or an okay film.

We get a film that appears regularly on lists of “The Worst Films Ever Made,” and the production was even more disastrous than the film itself.

It was the dream project of South African screenwriter/director Richard Stanley. He sold the project to New Line Studios, which wanted to replace the director with Roman Polanski. However, when Stanley was able to recruit Marlon Brando, the studio was forced to trust him with the $40 million budget.

Excited by the possibility of working with Brando, Stanley was able to cast Bruce Willis as the castaway and James Woods as Moreau's assistant. You may notice I’m naming names that weren’t mentioned above. You see, just before production began, Demi Moore began a messy divorce from Willis, and he dropped out. Val Kilmer was hired, which led to James Woods being replaced by Rob Morrow (of Northern Exposure).

So production was about to begin when Brando’s daughter committed suicide. Brando left, and no one knew whether or not he would return. They began shooting all the scenes without Brando, but then Val Kilmer’s wife announced she was divorcing her husband. Kilmer tried to get out of his contract, but New Line wouldn’t allow it.

There were other challenges to location shooting in a rainforest in North Queensland, Australia. Hurricanes struck, delaying production and driving up costs. Kilmer, angry about being there, wouldn’t learn lines or show up on time. Somehow Rob Morrow was able to convince New Line to let him out of his contract, and New Line fired director Stanley and hired an old-school director, John Frankenheimer. David Thewlis (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) became the castaway.

Brando returned to the production. And immediately clashed with co-star Kilmer. And director Frankenheimer. He brought new ideas to the film, such as giving a bigger role to Nelson de la Rosa as Majai, a pig/human who acts as a miniature Moreau, dressing like and imitating the mad doctor. (And yes, Michael Myers acknowledges that the idea of Dr. Evil’s "Mini Me" came from this film.)

Both Kilmer and Brando wouldn’t bother to learn lines. More help was given to Brando, who was fed lines through an earpiece. (On occasion, police calls would come through the earpiece, and Brando would echo what they said as well.) Neither Kilmer nor Brando wanted to leave their trailer before the other, leading to hours of waiting for the rest of the cast and the crew.

While all this was happening, the fired Richard Stanley returned to the set as an extra (the animal make-up was an excellent disguise). This allowed him to know more to contribute to David Gregory’s documentary about the making of the film: Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley’s Island of Dr. Moreau. (If you’d like a more compressed telling of the story, you can watch The Critical Drinker’s post about “The Most Disastrous Movie Ever Made.”)

You may not be surprised that this film bombed at the box office – a cautionary tale that shows that madness can reign in the world of movies as well as the world of science.

("Thrice Told Tales" is an occasional series about stories adapted at least three times to the screen.)