Oct 081996
 
two reels

Edward Douglas (David Thewlis) survives a plane crash at sea, only to be rescued by Montgomery (Val Kilmer) and taken to an island controlled by mad scientist Dr. Moreau (Marlon Brando). Moreau has crossed human DNA with that of other animals, creating beastmen that he controls by means of imbedded pain chips. Moreau’s “daughter” (Fairuza Balk), a fully human-looking cat-person, joins Douglas in an escape, but they fail, and Douglas ends up a prisoner as the beastmen revolt.

They put together beautiful sets, created remarkable makeup, and hired a first class crew. Then everyone took a massive number of Quaaludes and made a film.  It’s hard to say where the drugs had the greatest effect, in the inappropriate casting, mystifying acting, meandering story, or in the decision to release the finished product as it is.

The weirdness starts with David Thewlis, who spends the entire film looking uncomfortable.  I’m not saying he’s playing a character who feels uncomfortable in his surroundings.  That would be acting.  Nope, it’s Thewlis who is furtively looking for a way out of the project.  He doesn’t appear to be paying any attention to the rest of the cast (probably a good idea), nor does he show any real interest in his own lines. He isn’t helped by a repugnant character.  Douglas is the lead (well, he’s supposed to be) and our guide to the world of Dr. Moreau.  But he’s an unpleasant man.  He owes his life to Montgomery, who he repays by hitting on Moreau’s daughter, damaging a door, snooping about a laboratory, and generally disobeying the simple rules he has been given.  Sure, the rules were given in an ominous manner, but that should encourage him to follow them.  Douglas also likes to insult his hosts whenever possible.  This calls into question not only his upbringing, but his intelligence.  Here’s a hint: If you encounter psychotic people—who are dangerous and have delusions of godhood—humor them.  Do not immediately yell that they are Satanic.  He’s also shallow, finding value in the beautiful girl, but denigrating the less attractive.  All that would be fine if we were supposed to find him loathsome, but we’re not.  The film is structured around Douglas being the reasonable human that the viewer can identify with. Maybe this isn’t an example of bad filmmaking, but rather a demonstration of the filmmakers’ belief that the average viewer is a pretty lowly sort as well.  Either way, it’s depressing.

Val Kilmer is excellent and fits his role of the sadistic neurosurgeon turned jailer—for about thirty minutes.  Kilmer gives sinister life to Montgomery, making him complex with secrets I wanted explored.  Then something happens.  What?  Perhaps Kilmer popped those Quaaludes.  Perhaps the script blew away so Kilmer decided to adlib bits from his seldom seen standup act.  Perhaps director John Frankenheimer was called away to look at exciting time-share opportunities, and the uncontrolled Kilmer went on a binge, not realizing a camera was still running.  Whatever the case, the menacing Montgomery vanishes to be replaced by the strung-out actor wandering aimlessly about the set and occasionally imitating Marlon Brando.

And that brings us to Brando.  There is no Dr. Moreau in the film; there is just Brando, playing out his eccentricities.  He appears, mumbles out incoherent gibberish in a 1950s fey British accent, than trundles on his way.  Morbidly obese, he’s carried onto the screen (he doesn’t look like he could walk), garbed in a white muumuu, and wearing a scarf and old lady hat.  Add to that his white, clown makeup, and he’s the stuff of absurdist comedy.  But the movie is played straight.  He even has a Mini-Me rat-man that imitates him (this is where Mike Myers got the idea for the Austin Powers film).  It’s hard to imagine that a costume department came up with his getup, or that Frankenheimer (or anyone else) directed him.  Unlike Kilmer, there’s something wrong with Brando’s state of mind from the beginning.

The actors playing the human-animal hybrids are in a different movie from the stars.  Their film is a skillfully made, moving drama.  Fairuza Balk is sexy and melancholy as Aissa, the cat-woman.  Daniel Rigney plays Hyena-Swine, the force behind the rebellion.  I don’t know how he manages to express real emotions behind all that makeup, but it is impressive.  And Ron Perlman, who is buried under prosthetics in movie after movie, is once again excellent, though underutilized, as Sayer of the Law.  But any tension or mood they might create is destroyed by the uncontrolled farce that Brando and Kilmer think they are in.

It’s easy to see where this project fell apart.  Kilmer was supposed to play Douglas, but switched to the lesser role late in the planning stage (rumor has it this was due to his wife serving him with divorce papers).  Brando, who is always in his own universe, had to wear a radio to feed him his lines.  Writer-director Richard Stanley was fired after five days of shooting (either due to disagreements with the studio or from prima donna antics from Kilmer).  Whatever the cause, it meant that there was no longer any communication with the man who wrote the script.  Stanley did stick around, having the makeup department secretly turn him into one of the beastmen extras so he could at least watch.  When Stanley was booted, Rob Morrow, who had taken over the role of Douglas, quit, leading to the last minute casting of Thewlis.  The sometimes brilliant (The Manchurian Candidate, The Train), sometime pathetic (Prophecy: The Monster Movie, Reindeer Games), John Frankenheimer was dropped into the director’s chair.  He has an eye for a scene, but little skill with fantasy and horror.  With no time to prepare, he had no control on Brando and Kilmer, who were in ego overdrive.  Brando remarked that Kilmer’s problem is that he thinks his talent matches his paycheck.  Thewlis found the experience so unpleasant that he refuses to ever watch the finished film.  With all that going on, it’s remarkable that any kind of film was finished.

I can see the potential on the screen, but that’s all it is. Still, it is fascinating to watch.  I suggest popping a few of whatever the cast and crew were taking before sitting down to experience Dr. Brando and His Island of Confused and Irritable Thespians.

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