***Troubled production is semi-coherent with some entertainment*** Ever wonder where Col. Kurtz would've ended up had he survived the end of "Apocalypse Now"? Well, now we know: He exiled himself to a deserted island to create humanimals — the horror, the horror. This 1996 version of "The Island of Dr. Moreau" was such a troubled production that articles, books and documentaries have been made about it, like the 2014 documentary "Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley's Island of Dr. Moreau." Stanley championed the project, wrote the screenplay and was set to direct, but was fired after a few days of filming due to conflicts with Val Kilmer, who wasn't in the best of moods due to being served divorce papers while on set. Actually that wasn’t the main reason Stanley was fired. He was fine for small indie productions, but he was out of his league with a blockbuster like this. Veteran filmmaker John Frankenheimer was brought in to save the production from being a complete disaster. He got the job done, but his tyrannical approach didn’t help matters. The production was so bad that Fairuza Balk (the cat-lady, Aissa) literally tried to escape the set, but was caught at the airport in the nick of time. Add to this Brando's well-known eccentricities, not helped by the recent suicide of his daughter, Cheyenne, and constant rewrites and you have a formula for a cinematic…

Rumors about The Island of Dr. Moreau’s suckage have been greatly exaggerated. The real problem with this film isn't so much that it's bad, but that it's not nearly as good as it should be considering the actors involved; on the other hand, it is precisely these individuals (and none more than Marlon Brando) who barely manage to save, perhaps even in spite of themselves, this particular island from sinking to the bottom of the sea. Brando invariably was the best thing about his good films, and the only good thing about the bad ones — this one is no exception; indeed, his portrayal of the titular scientist is one of the ways this version is superior to that of 1977. For all its flaws, I would go so far as to say that this is the best possible film of The Island of Dr. Moreau. Whether by design or accident, Brando turns the weirdness all the way up to 11 — at one point, for example, wearing a “caloric converter” into which Fairuza Balk pours chunks of ice —, which is exactly what the role requires: the good doctor can never be anything other than the maddest of mad scientists. When David Thewlis asks him whether “has it ever occurred to you that you might have totally lost my mind? I mean, this is just satanic”, the implicit, tacit answer is no — of course such a thing has never occurred to him, because lunacy has so absolutely taken over him that sanity and insanity are now…

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