Silver Screen Standards: Dr. Morbius, Mr. Hyde, and “Monsters from the Id”

Dr. Morbius, Mr. Hyde, and “Monsters from the Id”

I happened
to watch both the 1941 adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and the
1956 science fiction classic, Forbidden Planet, in the last few weeks,
and the thematic overlap between the two movies inspired me to think about the
ways in which classic films grapple with the dark side of human nature. It’s a
common enough theme in science fiction, horror, and film noir, all genres that
allow us to peel back the veneer of civilized life and examine the brutality
still seething underneath. While the narrative framework that explores our dark
side often relies on the fantastic – serums, experiments, supernatural events,
and so forth – our stories inevitably return to the issue because human cruelty
and violence constantly threaten our very real existence. When they erupt into plain
sight as murders, wars, and political oppression, we look to literature and
film to help us understand why our capacity to commit these horrors persists in
spite of all our supposed progress. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, adapted
from the 1886 novella by Robert Louis Stevenson and a remake of the 1931 film
starring Fredric March, offers a Victorian view of humanity’s inability to
separate itself from its unevolved, bestial nature, while Forbidden Planet
flings us into the future and simultaneously evokes Shakespeare’s 17^th
century play, The Tempest, to engage many of the same issues. In both
films, powerful men become a threat to everyone around them when they lose the
constraints of reason, empathy, and conscience, and it’s up to others to stop
their destructive rampages.

The
protagonists in the two movies have a lot in common. Both Dr. Jekyll (Spencer
Tracy) and Dr. Morbius (Walter Pidgeon) are motivated by their scientific
curiosity to experiment on themselves, although only Jekyll knows that he is
playing with the dark side of human nature in his tests. Both men have a high
regard for their own intelligence and consider themselves above the other men
around them (they don’t regard the women in this consideration at all). Both
are the beneficiaries of a system that gives men of their class access to
education, authority, and status, with Morbius becoming absolute ruler in an
empire that consists only of himself and his daughter. Our stories are full of
such men, from Victor Frankenstein and Dr. Griffin (aka The Invisible Man) to Aldrich
Killian in the MCU, and none of those stories ends well, but hubris tells each
newcomer that his plans are better than all of those that failed. Jekyll
believes he can separate the good and evil sides of human nature, while Morbius
believes he can control the ancient, alien technology of the mysterious Krell.
Both men are correct to some degree, but where they err, they do so
disastrously, with Jekyll setting free his sadistic Hyde persona and Morbius
unleashing his nameless id monster.

The id
monsters in both films are violent murderers who enact urges that their
creators repress and even refuse to acknowledge, because to do so would admit
their own flawed natures. Jekyll cannot articulate his sexual frustration about
his long-delayed marriage to Beatrix (Lana Turner), so Hyde becomes a rapist
and abuser to the unfortunate Ivy (Ingrid Bergman). Morbius cannot control his
resentment when his daughter, Altaira (Anne Francis), chooses to leave with
handsome Commander Adams (Leslie Nielsen), just as he could not control it when
his fellow colonists chose to leave the planet years before, so his id monster
lashes out to destroy everyone who defies his will. In both cases, the id
monsters attack anyone who opposes them but seem to harbor particular malice
toward women, suggesting a deep vein of misogyny running beneath the
high-mindedness of both men. These are men who expect women to obey them in
every way, whether they be wives, mistresses, or daughters, and any rebellion
or hesitation is met with the unleashed violence of the id that is otherwise so
carefully hidden from view. In the same way, real-life abusers hide their
violent sides from neighbors, friends, and family so that others don’t suspect
the monsters they become in private. Hyde torments Ivy instead of pursuing
Beatrix because Beatrix is too public a victim as the daughter of the wealthy
and important Sir Charles Emery (Donald Crisp), but Ivy has no such protection,
and Jekyll’s unacknowledged attraction to Ivy fuels Hyde’s cruelty toward her. Morbius’
id monster is literally invisible except when hit by force fields and blaster
fire, a secret he keeps even from himself until Altaira becomes his next
intended victim. Morbius loves his daughter and wants to protect her, but he
also wants to punish her. For years she has belonged to him alone, never
questioning or disobeying him in any way, but now she is a grown-up young woman
with desires of her own, especially where Commander Adams is concerned. Unable
to process his paternal emotions, Morbius unwittingly summons the id monster to
destroy his child.

Like most
of their brethren in literature and film, the two doctors eventually pay for
their transgressions with their lives, but only Morbius achieves redemption by
recognizing the darkness as part of himself. In Shakespeare’s play, the
magician Prospero claims his brutal servant, Caliban, when he says, “This thing
of darkness I acknowledge mine” (Act 5, Scene I). In the same way, Morbius has
to admit that the id monster is part of him before he can dispel it and save
Altaira. He only reaches this epiphany because Lt. Ostrow (Warren Stevens)
sacrifices himself to the Krell’s brain machine in order to be intelligent
enough to figure out the nature of the invisible creature, and Commander Adams
then insists that Morbius heed Ostrow’s dying words. Jekyll never achieves this
kind of insight, and his rampage as Hyde only ends because his friends and the
police kill him. With the help of a determined intervention, Morbius comes back
to reason and saves his daughter, but Hyde must be put down like the rabid
beast he has become. Perhaps the 1956 science fiction film is more optimistic
about a person’s ability to face his own inner demons than the Victorian horror
story, given that the movie ends with Commander Adams assuring Altaira that her
father’s reputation will one day be lauded across the stars, but in both
stories it’s clear that other people must intervene to call out, oppose, and be
willing to stop the carnage of the unrestrained id. Jekyll and Morbius were
never going to confront or restrain their monstrous urges on their own, no
matter how many people suffered as a result.

While stories about mad scientists and manifestations of the Freudian id might seem far removed from reality, films like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Forbidden Planet remind us to beware of the darkness inside all human beings, but especially in those with power to let loose their monstrous urges on the larger world. We keep remaking Frankenstein, The Invisible Man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and other, similar stories because we keep seeing real-life embodiments of the monstrous id wreak havoc on our world, whether they’re celebrities, tech billionaires, autocrats, or mass shooters. Leigh Whannell’s 2020 revision of The Invisible Man, for example, reimagines the title character as an abusive tech CEO. For a recent film that brings all of these concerns together, see the newest release in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America: Brave New World (2025), in which Harrison Ford plays a United States President who struggles with his own monstrous side. The Hulk is, after all, just another manifestation of the Jekyll/Hyde duality and the destructive urges that lurk beneath even the most scientific mind.

…

— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.