This is a pre-code production and it shows. Even today this movie would get some serious push-back.
There is no nudity or explicit sexual behavior. The physical violence is not extraordinary. What permeates through the whole film is a sense of primal wrongness. Not just that Dr Moreau has crossed the boundaries of nature but that he's done it with prurient cruelty and indifference. He's accomplished something truly extraordinary but he's done it in the wrong way and for the wrong reasons and knows it - he simply does not care.
In a way, this is like an obscene version of Pygmalion or Frankenstein. Instead of the creator loving or at least respecting his creations, he finds even the most successful versions as curious abominations that exist only for his perverse pleasure and twisted curiosity.
It's hard to watch the Charles Laughton's lascivious, leering portrayal of Dr Moreau and not feel truly repulsed. Much as if one were watching Dr Mengele perform his monstrous experiments or Genghis Khan optimizing his torture techniques. I'm not sure I can recall a character so coldly repugnant.
The fear, suffering and resentment of his experimental subjects is palpable and unsettling. Dr Moreau walks in their midst with a sneer of absolute superiority and fearlessness, lording over them what he's done and what he can do again. Their animalistic impulses are only barely contained and they project a cold, primitive rage balanced and checked by Dr Moreau's cold, calculating omnipotence.
This isn't a slasher flick where pretty young girls are savaged by a sociopath. This is evil portrayed in it's most stark and fundamental form - the human without a soul.
There is no nudity or explicit sexual behavior. The physical violence is not extraordinary. What permeates through the whole film is a sense of primal wrongness. Not just that Dr Moreau has crossed the boundaries of nature but that he's done it with prurient cruelty and indifference. He's accomplished something truly extraordinary but he's done it in the wrong way and for the wrong reasons and knows it - he simply does not care.
In a way, this is like an obscene version of Pygmalion or Frankenstein. Instead of the creator loving or at least respecting his creations, he finds even the most successful versions as curious abominations that exist only for his perverse pleasure and twisted curiosity.
It's hard to watch the Charles Laughton's lascivious, leering portrayal of Dr Moreau and not feel truly repulsed. Much as if one were watching Dr Mengele perform his monstrous experiments or Genghis Khan optimizing his torture techniques. I'm not sure I can recall a character so coldly repugnant.
The fear, suffering and resentment of his experimental subjects is palpable and unsettling. Dr Moreau walks in their midst with a sneer of absolute superiority and fearlessness, lording over them what he's done and what he can do again. Their animalistic impulses are only barely contained and they project a cold, primitive rage balanced and checked by Dr Moreau's cold, calculating omnipotence.
This isn't a slasher flick where pretty young girls are savaged by a sociopath. This is evil portrayed in it's most stark and fundamental form - the human without a soul.