There’s a weird circularity to the plot of 1977’s The Island Of Dr. Moreau that I’m not entirely convinced serves the narrative all that well.
From what I know, the film is, structurally, reasonably similar to that of the H.G. Wells 1896 novel. Andrew Braddock (played by Michael York, renamed from ‘Edward Prendick’ in the book) finds himself – along with another – lost at sea in a lifeboat after the Lady Vain sinks. After a grueling few weeks drifting under the blazing sun, Braddock and the other survivor – don’t worry, he isn’t long for this world – spot a lush island nearby and manage to make it ashore. From here, the events involving the discovery of Moreau’s compound and his work unfold; but – briefly – it’s important to note that the film bookends itself with the image of the rescue boat nestled in a vast expanse of ocean blue, seemingly homeless in the middle of absolute nowhere.
So clearly director Don Taylor and screenwriters Al Ramrus, John Herman Shaner, and Richard Alan Simmons intended to suggest some message or ‘moral of the story’ by staging their interpretation of the classic Moreau tale in such a visual manner. Could it be that no matter where man goes or what he does in the pursuit of knowledge, perfection, and/or science that he’ll always risk such perpetual homelessness? That no matter what one learns and no matter what efforts are made along the way we’ll always wind up exactly where it is we began, bobbing to and fro at the mercy of elements we can neither understand nor control? What’s that old adage? “No matter how far you travel, in the end that’s still just where are?”
The only thing different – so far as the script goes – is that Braddock has returned to his former human self, no longer wrestling with the genetic mutations Dr. Moreau (Burt Lancaster) introduced into his body against his will. Braddock is now accompanied by the lovely Maria (Barbara Carrera), who herself is undergoing what appears to be her own transformation into something … well … let’s just say something other than what he had known her to be. Yet, because our storytellers chose to render this tale in such a fashion – with the grim spectacle of seclusion on an endless ocean – I suspect they wanted to dish a cautionary reminder that mankind will always be insignificant when compared to the insurmountable breadth of what we face in our travels.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A shipwrecked survivor discovers a remote island owned by a crazed scientist who is carrying out sinister experiments on the island's inhabitants.”
From what I know, the film is, structurally, reasonably similar to that of the H.G. Wells 1896 novel. Andrew Braddock (played by Michael York, renamed from ‘Edward Prendick’ in the book) finds himself – along with another – lost at sea in a lifeboat after the Lady Vain sinks. After a grueling few weeks drifting under the blazing sun, Braddock and the other survivor – don’t worry, he isn’t long for this world – spot a lush island nearby and manage to make it ashore. From here, the events involving the discovery of Moreau’s compound and his work unfold; but – briefly – it’s important to note that the film bookends itself with the image of the rescue boat nestled in a vast expanse of ocean blue, seemingly homeless in the middle of absolute nowhere.
So clearly director Don Taylor and screenwriters Al Ramrus, John Herman Shaner, and Richard Alan Simmons intended to suggest some message or ‘moral of the story’ by staging their interpretation of the classic Moreau tale in such a visual manner. Could it be that no matter where man goes or what he does in the pursuit of knowledge, perfection, and/or science that he’ll always risk such perpetual homelessness? That no matter what one learns and no matter what efforts are made along the way we’ll always wind up exactly where it is we began, bobbing to and fro at the mercy of elements we can neither understand nor control? What’s that old adage? “No matter how far you travel, in the end that’s still just where are?”
The only thing different – so far as the script goes – is that Braddock has returned to his former human self, no longer wrestling with the genetic mutations Dr. Moreau (Burt Lancaster) introduced into his body against his will. Braddock is now accompanied by the lovely Maria (Barbara Carrera), who herself is undergoing what appears to be her own transformation into something … well … let’s just say something other than what he had known her to be. Yet, because our storytellers chose to render this tale in such a fashion – with the grim spectacle of seclusion on an endless ocean – I suspect they wanted to dish a cautionary reminder that mankind will always be insignificant when compared to the insurmountable breadth of what we face in our travels.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A shipwrecked survivor discovers a remote island owned by a crazed scientist who is carrying out sinister experiments on the island's inhabitants.”
It seems as though – roughly once a generation – some studio, filmmaker, or producer gets the bright idea to tap the wide, wide works of H.G. Wells as an inspiration; and audiences get treated to any number of new incarnations on the classic stories. Be it The Time Machine (1895), The Invisible Man (1897), or The War Of The Worlds (1898), new productions try to re-interpret these older tomes, occasionally even hoping to inject a bit of contemporary freshness into the mix in order to demonstrate that – architecturally – they’re timeless foundations around which to explore even modern science. While it doesn’t always prove successful, those of us who worship All Things SciFi still appreciate the effort if for no other reason than it gives us more food for thought when we’re debating the highs and lows with like-minded souls.
One of Wells’ other stories that hasn’t quite found the level of accomplishment that it’s owed remains The Island Of Dr. Moreau. While the source novel has been used as inspiration for other stories, Wells’ yarn has really only had three major theatrical incarnations that I know of: 1932’s Island Of Lost Souls, 1996’s The Island Of Dr. Moreau, and 1977’s picture of the same name that mostly fizzled at the box office. Precisely why it underperformed so deeply is a mystery to me, chiefly because I’ve now seen it and found it a respectable attempt to remain faithful to the beats of the original tale while incorporating some solid creature effects – make-up and prosthetics, mostly – fans would expect. Having the Academy Award winning technical expertise of John Chambers – who brought the apes to life in 1968’s groundbreaking Planet Of The Apes – was about as good as a studio could hope for in that era, and the man’s work did garner a 1978 Saturn Awards nomination in the category of ‘Best Make-Up.’
Shipwreck survivor Braddock finds himself in the company of the famed Dr. Moreau when his boat washes ashore on the tropical island. The scientist’s hospitality definitely puts the failed ship’s engineer at ease until he begins realizing that there are increasingly curious creatures roaming the grounds outside Moreau’s mostly cozy estate. Eventually, Braddock ignores the advice of Moreau’s right-hand man Montgomery (Nigel Davenport); and he risks a bit of travel outside the walls, often in the company of Maria, the doctor’s platonic companion. Over time, the sailor and the lady develop a romantic relationship that only increases their jeopardy as Braddock longs to sweep her up in his arms and take her away from the sanctuary of the mostly deserted island.
What the man learns is that the jungle creatures are in fact experiments that the good doctor has undertaken in hopes of proving he can master control over genetic sequencing. Moreau believes he has tapped the ability to turn animals into human beings – indeed, he’s built a small society of hybrids and even gone to great lengths to civilize them with strictly enforced codes of conduct. Braddock’s arrival means that now the scientist can actually attempt the inverse: using the sailor as a test subject, he hopes to transform him from man to beast. Because Braddock can speak, he can share what he’s feeling throughout such a transformation, greatly benefitting Moreau’s emerging scientific knowledge in the process.
One of Wells’ other stories that hasn’t quite found the level of accomplishment that it’s owed remains The Island Of Dr. Moreau. While the source novel has been used as inspiration for other stories, Wells’ yarn has really only had three major theatrical incarnations that I know of: 1932’s Island Of Lost Souls, 1996’s The Island Of Dr. Moreau, and 1977’s picture of the same name that mostly fizzled at the box office. Precisely why it underperformed so deeply is a mystery to me, chiefly because I’ve now seen it and found it a respectable attempt to remain faithful to the beats of the original tale while incorporating some solid creature effects – make-up and prosthetics, mostly – fans would expect. Having the Academy Award winning technical expertise of John Chambers – who brought the apes to life in 1968’s groundbreaking Planet Of The Apes – was about as good as a studio could hope for in that era, and the man’s work did garner a 1978 Saturn Awards nomination in the category of ‘Best Make-Up.’
Shipwreck survivor Braddock finds himself in the company of the famed Dr. Moreau when his boat washes ashore on the tropical island. The scientist’s hospitality definitely puts the failed ship’s engineer at ease until he begins realizing that there are increasingly curious creatures roaming the grounds outside Moreau’s mostly cozy estate. Eventually, Braddock ignores the advice of Moreau’s right-hand man Montgomery (Nigel Davenport); and he risks a bit of travel outside the walls, often in the company of Maria, the doctor’s platonic companion. Over time, the sailor and the lady develop a romantic relationship that only increases their jeopardy as Braddock longs to sweep her up in his arms and take her away from the sanctuary of the mostly deserted island.
What the man learns is that the jungle creatures are in fact experiments that the good doctor has undertaken in hopes of proving he can master control over genetic sequencing. Moreau believes he has tapped the ability to turn animals into human beings – indeed, he’s built a small society of hybrids and even gone to great lengths to civilize them with strictly enforced codes of conduct. Braddock’s arrival means that now the scientist can actually attempt the inverse: using the sailor as a test subject, he hopes to transform him from man to beast. Because Braddock can speak, he can share what he’s feeling throughout such a transformation, greatly benefitting Moreau’s emerging scientific knowledge in the process.
Like a great many stories, Island chiefly coasts on the energy created by two men in opposition to one another physically, emotionally, and morally. Braddock and Moreau engage in some lesser debates on the bastardization of man and his genetic components; but it’s never anything all that grand or eloquent. As an engineer, Braddock would be largely out of his league as an intellectual foil to Moreau and his genius: for this reason, the script mostly sticks to issues of right and wrong, postulating that even in separation from the world-at-large mankind must strive to attain a kind of existential purity, a strict adherence to improving (not altering) ‘the self.’ It doesn’t always work – Lancaster remains a bit subdued consistently, especially when compared to York’s propensity for speechifying some dialogue – but the two do serve as clear polar opposites when the melodrama sticks to simplicity.
If anything, it would be easy to criticize Island for never quite refining its creature effects to the point wherein the hybrids looked like they were anything other than men concealed under latex and wigs; but – as I said above – I found the work more than sufficient to convey the idea of genetic misfits trapped somewhere between man and beast. Perhaps if there had been a few more scenes showing how this burgeoning society communicated and/or existed in such a troublesome domain physically and culturally then the flick might’ve resonated more strongly with audiences. Frankly, it’s hard to say given that they’re all depicted as simple creatures, and maybe that just didn’t work for 1970’s audiences. Thematically, I believe the tone worked quite well for genre productions of the day, and I think it rests comfortably alongside those who embrace the aforementioned Apes picture as it feels as if drawn from the same vein.
The Island Of Dr. Moreau (1977) was produced by Cinema 77 and Major Productions. At present, the film shows available for digital streaming on a variety of entertainment platforms. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I’ll still attest to the fact that Moreau looks and sounds mostly fabulous: the cinematography might not always be the kind of didactic symbolism our cultural betters desire, but I thought it worked wonderfully from start to finish. Lastly, if you’re wondering about special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
I have read that some familiar with the H.G. Wells’ novel might take issue with the theatrical interpretation of 1977’s The Island Of Dr. Moreau. Frankly, it’s been years since I read it – I did read a graphic novel version of it a year or two back – so my two cents could be a bit misaligned … but I was pretty smitten with the flick as is. Chambers’ make-up work is about as good as it comes especially for the mid-1970’s; and the pairing of Lancaster and York work well enough as narrative adversaries to captivate me just long enough so that some subpar scenes and effects here and there are inconsequential. While I’m not entirely certain that the bookend structure delivered what the storytellers wanted, I’ll admit that it still gives one something to think about.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of The Island Of Dr. Moreau (1977) as I viewed it via one of my very own internet subscriptions.
-- EZ
If anything, it would be easy to criticize Island for never quite refining its creature effects to the point wherein the hybrids looked like they were anything other than men concealed under latex and wigs; but – as I said above – I found the work more than sufficient to convey the idea of genetic misfits trapped somewhere between man and beast. Perhaps if there had been a few more scenes showing how this burgeoning society communicated and/or existed in such a troublesome domain physically and culturally then the flick might’ve resonated more strongly with audiences. Frankly, it’s hard to say given that they’re all depicted as simple creatures, and maybe that just didn’t work for 1970’s audiences. Thematically, I believe the tone worked quite well for genre productions of the day, and I think it rests comfortably alongside those who embrace the aforementioned Apes picture as it feels as if drawn from the same vein.
The Island Of Dr. Moreau (1977) was produced by Cinema 77 and Major Productions. At present, the film shows available for digital streaming on a variety of entertainment platforms. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I’ll still attest to the fact that Moreau looks and sounds mostly fabulous: the cinematography might not always be the kind of didactic symbolism our cultural betters desire, but I thought it worked wonderfully from start to finish. Lastly, if you’re wondering about special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
I have read that some familiar with the H.G. Wells’ novel might take issue with the theatrical interpretation of 1977’s The Island Of Dr. Moreau. Frankly, it’s been years since I read it – I did read a graphic novel version of it a year or two back – so my two cents could be a bit misaligned … but I was pretty smitten with the flick as is. Chambers’ make-up work is about as good as it comes especially for the mid-1970’s; and the pairing of Lancaster and York work well enough as narrative adversaries to captivate me just long enough so that some subpar scenes and effects here and there are inconsequential. While I’m not entirely certain that the bookend structure delivered what the storytellers wanted, I’ll admit that it still gives one something to think about.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of The Island Of Dr. Moreau (1977) as I viewed it via one of my very own internet subscriptions.
-- EZ
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