This has always been my favorite H.G. Wells novel, maybe one of my favorite novels in general, and it’s always mystified me that it rarely merits mention in the Wells oeuvre. It tackles deeper philosophical themes than his better-known works, dealing with questions of religion and the essence of humanity itself. It’s been adapted for the screen no less than three times, to varying degrees of success. Here, for no good reason, I will document a revisiting of the original novel and two of the films, plus one I’d never previously seen.
The Island of Dr. Moreau
The original novel by H.G. Wells, published in 1896
Though this is my third reading, I hadn’t picked it up in many years. With a leather-bound copy of The Complete Science Fiction Treasury of H.G. Wells in hand, I find my first surprise: in an introduction by Wells himself, I learn that he wasn’t fond of the novel, and actually refers to it as “rather painful”. Oh well. Anthony Burgess didn’t feel that A Clockwork Orange was very good either. I respectfully disagree with both of them.
This is the tale of Edward Prendick, survivor of the shipwreck of the Lady Vain, who’s pulled from his dinghy by a transport carrying a collection of live animals and a mysterious man named Montgomery, a drunk with a dark past. The even more drunken captain of the vessel insists on dropping Prendick at Montgomery’s port of call, a small uncharted island. Here he meets disgraced London scientist Moreau and the results of his unorthodox experiments in vivisection. Moreau uses surgery and re-education to reconfigure animals into human beings, or rough likenesses thereof.
The novel is quite short, and filled with passages of Moreau pontificating on the malleability of the living body, the prudishness of those who are horrified by his work, and the wonders he’s wrought, not to mention Prendick’s reactions to the madness around him. The other key characters are The Sayer of the Law, a beast man whose name says it all, and M’Ling, the most docile of the beast men who works as Montgomery’s servant. What’s really interesting here is the way the beast men become a twisted microcosm of human society by forming a religion in The Law with Moreau as God. The creatures, of course, eventually violate The Law and rise up against their Gods, and Prendick gains a personal enemy in the “Hyena-Swine”, who leads the charge in shedding his humanity. Moreau and Montgomery, in their madness, meet their ends at the hands of their creations, leaving Prendick alone to deal with them for nearly a year before being rescued, and watching as they slowly revert to their bestial natures.
There are definitely some signs of the morality of its time in the assertion that it’s the beast in these creatures that makes them dangerous; so long as they cleave to the ideals of The Law, and endeavor to stay human, they can be dealt with. But, as Moreau says, “the stubborn beast flesh grows, day by day, back again”. And like much of Wells’ work, there is little here of scientific verisimilitude; Wells himself rejected the idea that he was “The English Jules Verne”, being more concerned with imaginative fancy than technical detail or prediction. It is, however, a memorable and haunting construction, and phrasings like “Not to spill blood, that is the law. Are we not men?” have become immortal by being passed through others (thank you, Devo), so it’s certainly achieved a certain cultural penetration.
Island of Lost Souls
1933, directed by Erle C. Kenton, starring Charles Laughton, Richard Arlen and Bela Lugosi
I had never seen this first filmic adaptation of Moreau. I remembered seeing features on it in Forrest Ackerman’s old Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine; apparently, it was an old favorite of his. It’s still unavailable on DVD. I finally found a guy on eBay who specializes in making DVD’s of old films whose rights have fallen into the public domain. Surprisingly, the quality is decent, better than most VHS copies of older films I’ve seen, and certainly more than watchable.
Released the same year that King Kong was heralding a cinematic revolution, the film itself is an interesting beast. The first half is amazingly faithful to the novel, down to details like the names of the ships, and the pointed hairy ears on Montgomery’s companion M’Ling. Of course, Edward Prendick has now become Edward Parker, a strapping American who never met a problem he couldn’t solve by decking someone. It doesn’t sink the film, but it’s a little jarring nonetheless. Montgomery is very well-cast in Arthur Hohl, and the character is faithful to the original. Laughton’s Moreau, while bearing little resemblance to the novel’s character, is excellent. He oozes an effete, phony charm and a creepy menace that keeps the movie on track even as the plot attempts to jump the rails. Apparently, someone at Paramount decided that the problem with H.G. Wells was a lack of sex. Here they’ve given the hero a fiancé, but even that wasn’t enough. We’re also given (in larger type than the lead actors in the opening titles) Lota the Panther Woman. Oh yes. Moreau throws her at Parker in order to test her humanity. Bela Lugosi as the Sayer of the Law isn’t given much screen time. He does alright, but nothing any competent actor couldn’t have done behind massive amounts of facial hair. The “What is the law?” sequence is nicely played, though.
The film is stylishly directed, and the makeup effects on the beast men are surprisingly good for 1933. There are some genuinely creepy and threatening moments here, and in several cases, dialogue is lifted almost intact from the novel. All of this helps to make up for the fiancé’s rescue mission, Montgomery’s odd change of heart, and of course, Lota the Panther Woman. And it’s kind of neat that Moreau brings his final fate on himself, and that fate is rather more horrific and dramatically appropriate than what he suffers in the novel. At 71 minutes, the movie breezes by and ends pretty abruptly, but it manages to hit all of the important points of Wells’ work while being pretty entertaining.
The Island of Dr. Moreau
The original novel by H.G. Wells, published in 1896
Though this is my third reading, I hadn’t picked it up in many years. With a leather-bound copy of The Complete Science Fiction Treasury of H.G. Wells in hand, I find my first surprise: in an introduction by Wells himself, I learn that he wasn’t fond of the novel, and actually refers to it as “rather painful”. Oh well. Anthony Burgess didn’t feel that A Clockwork Orange was very good either. I respectfully disagree with both of them.
This is the tale of Edward Prendick, survivor of the shipwreck of the Lady Vain, who’s pulled from his dinghy by a transport carrying a collection of live animals and a mysterious man named Montgomery, a drunk with a dark past. The even more drunken captain of the vessel insists on dropping Prendick at Montgomery’s port of call, a small uncharted island. Here he meets disgraced London scientist Moreau and the results of his unorthodox experiments in vivisection. Moreau uses surgery and re-education to reconfigure animals into human beings, or rough likenesses thereof.
The novel is quite short, and filled with passages of Moreau pontificating on the malleability of the living body, the prudishness of those who are horrified by his work, and the wonders he’s wrought, not to mention Prendick’s reactions to the madness around him. The other key characters are The Sayer of the Law, a beast man whose name says it all, and M’Ling, the most docile of the beast men who works as Montgomery’s servant. What’s really interesting here is the way the beast men become a twisted microcosm of human society by forming a religion in The Law with Moreau as God. The creatures, of course, eventually violate The Law and rise up against their Gods, and Prendick gains a personal enemy in the “Hyena-Swine”, who leads the charge in shedding his humanity. Moreau and Montgomery, in their madness, meet their ends at the hands of their creations, leaving Prendick alone to deal with them for nearly a year before being rescued, and watching as they slowly revert to their bestial natures.
There are definitely some signs of the morality of its time in the assertion that it’s the beast in these creatures that makes them dangerous; so long as they cleave to the ideals of The Law, and endeavor to stay human, they can be dealt with. But, as Moreau says, “the stubborn beast flesh grows, day by day, back again”. And like much of Wells’ work, there is little here of scientific verisimilitude; Wells himself rejected the idea that he was “The English Jules Verne”, being more concerned with imaginative fancy than technical detail or prediction. It is, however, a memorable and haunting construction, and phrasings like “Not to spill blood, that is the law. Are we not men?” have become immortal by being passed through others (thank you, Devo), so it’s certainly achieved a certain cultural penetration.
Island of Lost Souls
1933, directed by Erle C. Kenton, starring Charles Laughton, Richard Arlen and Bela Lugosi
I had never seen this first filmic adaptation of Moreau. I remembered seeing features on it in Forrest Ackerman’s old Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine; apparently, it was an old favorite of his. It’s still unavailable on DVD. I finally found a guy on eBay who specializes in making DVD’s of old films whose rights have fallen into the public domain. Surprisingly, the quality is decent, better than most VHS copies of older films I’ve seen, and certainly more than watchable.
Released the same year that King Kong was heralding a cinematic revolution, the film itself is an interesting beast. The first half is amazingly faithful to the novel, down to details like the names of the ships, and the pointed hairy ears on Montgomery’s companion M’Ling. Of course, Edward Prendick has now become Edward Parker, a strapping American who never met a problem he couldn’t solve by decking someone. It doesn’t sink the film, but it’s a little jarring nonetheless. Montgomery is very well-cast in Arthur Hohl, and the character is faithful to the original. Laughton’s Moreau, while bearing little resemblance to the novel’s character, is excellent. He oozes an effete, phony charm and a creepy menace that keeps the movie on track even as the plot attempts to jump the rails. Apparently, someone at Paramount decided that the problem with H.G. Wells was a lack of sex. Here they’ve given the hero a fiancé, but even that wasn’t enough. We’re also given (in larger type than the lead actors in the opening titles) Lota the Panther Woman. Oh yes. Moreau throws her at Parker in order to test her humanity. Bela Lugosi as the Sayer of the Law isn’t given much screen time. He does alright, but nothing any competent actor couldn’t have done behind massive amounts of facial hair. The “What is the law?” sequence is nicely played, though.
The film is stylishly directed, and the makeup effects on the beast men are surprisingly good for 1933. There are some genuinely creepy and threatening moments here, and in several cases, dialogue is lifted almost intact from the novel. All of this helps to make up for the fiancé’s rescue mission, Montgomery’s odd change of heart, and of course, Lota the Panther Woman. And it’s kind of neat that Moreau brings his final fate on himself, and that fate is rather more horrific and dramatically appropriate than what he suffers in the novel. At 71 minutes, the movie breezes by and ends pretty abruptly, but it manages to hit all of the important points of Wells’ work while being pretty entertaining.
