When I was eight years old my parents bought a house in Rio Rancho, NM, which was at the time very undeveloped. We were in what one might call the Middle of Nowhere, and I was terrified of that idea. The first night that we drove out through the desert to get there I was struck by the absence of light except for that coming from the moon, and was convinced that our van was going to be attacked by a werewolf. No matter the fact that there are no real werewolf myths in the Southwestern United States, the fact that I could not see further than ten feet out from the vehicle left me with the idea that a wolfman could jump at the windshield at any time.
There is something supremely frightening about the concept of a man who uncontrollably changes into a monster in the middle of the night and kills at random. There is nothing intellectual or poetic or romantic about this creature that might be found vampire lore, specters, or even Frankenstein's monster. There is simply the fear of the primal and a gruesome death at the hands (or claws) of someone you might trust and love. Of all of the Halloweenish type ghouls, monsters, and creatures, the wolfman scares me most of all because of its ancient history and its destructive view of civilization and evolution.
This film does justice to these thoughts and fears in sporadic and completely inconsistent intervals. When it does work it works very well, but when it fails it is abysmal. This is a short, sad tale of two young American tourists backpacking through Northern England who are mauled by a werewolf before it is shot dead. Only one dies leaving the other, David, in a coma for three weeks with scratch marks and bad dreams. When he awakens he falls for his nurse and seems well enough, but mentally he begins to breakdown when he is haunted--quite Dickensian in style--by the undead presence of his friend who warns him that come the full moon he will turn into a werewolf himself. His friend suggests suicide (what a guy), but how can David know that he is not simply going crazy? Leave the moon to answer that question right quick.
This is a pretty good but over-hyped attempt at genre blending, and cannot seem to find the proper balance between what it attempts to combine. It is very funny is some places, frightening in others, but there is nothing that blends the two together creating a jarring ride between comedy and horror. It seems to me that were they to create a cohesive story to go along with its good idea then it would have need at least another fifteen minutes worth of material in order to develop character relationships. Instead the jokes were rolled out until they felt it was time to be scary, then the killings began and ended to give way to more jokes.
I didn't dislike the characters; I thought they were all very sweet and well acted, but their interactions were forced, sometimes quite painfully for the audience. It also seemed like there was no ending. Many questions are raised by the idea of a werewolf prowling Piccadilly, but the audience is left with those questions at the end with only the smallest amount of information to fill in some major holes. I was disappointed, not in the very gratifying climax, but in the absence of a resolution that was desperately needed.
The one thing that everyone will appreciate and talk about after this film is the great makeup and special effects. The transformation sequences in particular had me burying my face in my pillow as I watched poor David mutate into a monster. That is the scene to remember. Lon Chaney's film had the suspense, but he was a man dressed in furs. This, on the other hand, is how one imagines becoming a werewolf to happen, and it was as horrific as I always thought it would be. The effects were great, but they could have done more not to show the beast as much as they did. After all, it was because I couldn't see outside of my van that made that werewolf so terrifying.
2/4
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