Welcome back, ghouls and ghosts, to the third annual installment of SpookyJawn! It’s our horror takeover of MovieJawn, and this year we are wall to wall with monsters!

by Billie Anderson, Staff Writer

I’ve got a complicated relationship with the “mad scientist” narrative. With a background in disability theory, I tend to struggle with the stereotype that equates madness with villainy. The films that often lean into this trope tend to fall into what disability theorists call the “evil cripple”: a morally disturbed character that is villainous as a result of their disability status. This is often the only way that disability is represented on film, and when that happens, it can have detrimental effects on the way people interpret and interact with disability in real life. The evil cripple is often represented alongside the “genius cripple,” which represents disabled characters that “compensate” for their physical disability by having higher intellectual prowess than the non-disabled protagonist. This is where the mad genius, scientist, or doctor narratives typically reside.

That being said, the mad scientist can also be used to challenge normative narratives surrounding the medical world. Mad scientists often inhabit antirationalist stories, conveying the argument that secular science is dangerous if unchallenged. Mad scientists push the narrative of what is possible with science, attempting to “play God” and challenge the power of nature and the finiteness of the human mind. Mad scientists allow us to push the boundaries and borders of the possible, of what is normal, something that I believe is inherently powerful in narratives of disability.

While the films in this list aren’t perfect in their disability representation, they tend to shy a little farther from the “madness = villainy” trope, and try to grapple with the psychosocial/emotional effects of what it means to be mad. Happy watching this spooky season!

The Fly (dir. David Cronenberg, 1986)

While this list isn’t ranked, I’d be wrong to say that this isn’t my number one. Cronenberg reimagines the mad scientist trope through Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum), a quirky genius turned monstrous as he descends into madness while experimenting with a teleportation device. I say reimagined because Brundle is not your typical mad scientist: he is not driven by a lust for power or a desire for world domination; instead, his motivation is pure scientific curiosity. His madness comes from perfection and is demonstrated both physically and psychologically. The genius of The Fly lies in its ability to evoke sympathy for Brudnle, even as he becomes mad, and even as he becomes a physically grotesque and horrifying creature. Not only is this my favorite mad scientist film, it’s one of my favorite disability-focused films. Brundle’s transformation into a fly-human hybrid serves as a metaphor for the dangers of unchecked scientific ambition, sure, but it also represents a human being coming to terms with a new identity, and new physical body, and a new way of life.

Island of Lost Souls (dir. Erle C. Kenton, 1932)

In Kenton’s classic horror film, we see a stereotypical portrayal of the mad scientist archetype through Dr. Moreau (Charles Laughton) as he conducts sinister experiments on a remote island, with the aim of transforming animals into humans. Unlike The Fly’s Seth Brundle, Moreau’s quest for forbidden knowledge and the manipulation of life and nature leads him to cross ethical and moral boundaries, experimenting not on himself but on other living creatures. While the origins of the mad scientist in film can likely be credited to Metropolis (1927), or in Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) in literature, there’s something so classic about Kenton’s perspective on the ethics and laws of science and human nature. It doesn’t do anything particularly original when compared to Metropolis or Frankenstein (beyond the focus on animals) but it managed to captivate me with its sheer audacity and unapologetic portrayal of scientific transgression.

Young Frankenstein (dir. Mel Brooks, 1974)

The obvious choice is to include the 1931 adaptation of Frankenstein here, but it’s hard to deny that there is something special about Brooks’ Young Frankenstein. Whereas most mad scientist films are dramatic (although this list is split 50/50), Young Frankenstein kind of exists as a parody to the classic mad scientist trope while still paying homage to the iconic story of Frankenstein. The film follows Dr. Frederick Frankenstein (Gene Wilder), the grandson of the original Dr. Frankenstein, as he reluctantly embraces his family’s legacy. This film really manages to fill itself with every form of comedy possible: parody (obviously), slapstick, musical, dark, screwball. Brooks and Wilder co-wrote the script, clearly during the time when they were firing on every cylinder they had–I truly believe that every Brooks movie after this one was clearly just chasing the magic of Young Frankenstein.

Megamind (dir. Tom McGrath, 2010)

I’ve got kind of a silly history with this film: I had just gotten out of a two week stay in the hospital and a month long rest in my house after getting a major life-changing surgery that required me to learn how to walk again, get up on my own, and even how to comfortably sit. I was extremely bored, having been reliant on my family to take care of me for weeks, and wanted to go see a movie. This had just come out and I decided to check it out, when halfway through the movie my head dropped behind me and I was basically unable to pick it back up for the remainder of the film. I can confidently say that this movie is fun, even if you can’t correctly see the screen. Megamind follows the titular character Megamind (Will Ferrell) who starts out in a classic villainous role: trying to take over and run his town with his sidekick (David Cross), defeat the Superman-like character named Metro Man (Brad Pitt), and become the most well-respected scientist in the world. However, the film explores this journey through narratives of redemption and self-discovery. Megamind really challenges the whole idea of the mad scientist trope, dissecting the genre and rebuilding it again. It almost creates a parallel between a classic superhero tale and a villain origin story, making you question where one narrative is ending and the other is starting.

Eyes Without a Face (dir. George Franju, 1960)

Franju’s 1960 mad scientist horror is not a typical mad scientist tale: Dr. Génessier (Pierre Brasseur) is a mad scientist, yes, but he is enthralled not by the reanimation of what once was dead, but rather by the recreation of the past and the eradication of his own misdeeds. The story of a skilled surgeon who is willing to kidnap women to use their faces as the model for his daughter’s horrifically scarred face feels like another hack example of the mad scientist trope. But it's patient use of time and the framing of the mad doctor’s daughter (Édith Scob) pulls the film out of purely genre territory. Eyes Without a Face plays more like a haunted house film than it does mad scientist, the film is seeped in sadness and guilt. Because of this, it’s a film not so focused on plot but rather its imagery, the poetic, unshakeable visions that it embeds in your mind, never to be forgotten. This film does some really fun stuff with the idea of beauty, the concept of normalcy or the ideal, and represents a lot of ideas that I look for when trying to find subtle representations of disability in film.

Re-Animator (dir. Stuart Gordon, 1985)

A true cult classic that revels in the mad scientist trope, delivering a gleefully grotesque and darkly comedic exploration of scientific obsession. The film's narrative is driven by Dr. West's (Jeffrey Combs) relentless pursuit of a reanimation serum, and his reckless disregard for ethical boundaries creates a palpable sense of tension and unease. I’ve rarely seen a B-horror film with as much self-awareness as this one. This film is just full of a total commitment to both comedy and horror throughout: none of the camp, deadpan humor, masterful practical effects, or deranged unfold of events outweigh each other. This is one of those movies you want to seek out a special screening for, it’s worth seeing it with a rowdy audience.

The Emperor’s New Groove (dir. Mark Dindal, 2000)

While I already included an animated film, I felt the need to include an even sillier, more “is this even a mad scientist” pick in this list. The only woman on our list, the wonderful Yzma (Eartha Kitt). While there are a million great things about this film, and while it continues to age so gracefully, no Disney villain is as special as Yzma. There’s really no scientific grounding to back up this mad scientist, but she fits the stereotype: she wants to rule the world and the easiest way to do so is to turn the emperor into a llama. If you don’t consider that to be mad scientist behavior then you need to expand your parameters. I think the film labels her as a “sorceress,” but we never see her conduct any magic as far as I’m concerned, it’s really all chemistry.