”Terrible things, Lawrence. You’ve done terrible things…”
Werewolves haven’t received as much cinematic attention as their bloodsucking brethren. Right off the top of my head, I can name several great vampire films. Let the Right One In, The Hunger, The Lost Boys, Nosferatu, Innocent Blood, Near Dark, etc. I can come up with maybe two great werewolf movies, the 1941 version of Wolfman with Lon Cheney, Jr. and John Landis’s An American Werewolf in London. Joe Johnston’s remake of the 1941 film will not be counted as one of them.
Set in the 1800’s, Benicio Del Toro is Lawrence Talbot, a traveling stage actor, who returns home upon the murder of his brother after years of absence. Talbot is still haunted by the suicide of his mother and is less than enthusiastic about revisiting Stately Talbot Manor. But, he is welcomed by his eccentric father Sir John (Anthony Hopkins) and his brother’s beautiful fiancée, Gwen Conliffe (Emily Blunt). Investigating his brother’s demise, Lawrence follows the trail to a gypsy encampment just as it is being attacked by an angry and superstitious mob, complete with torches and pitchforks. And just to turn it into an all-out melee, a werewolf tears through anyone in his path, including Lawrence.
Bitten by the creature, Lawrence finds himself transformed into a beast on each night of the full moon. He desperately attempts to send Gwen away for her own safety while deep-rooted secrets about his family and his father come to light. Toss in a dash of Hugo Weaving as an inspector for Scotland Yard’s special muttonchops division.
The Wolfman has been mired with production problems beginning in 2008 with the departure of original director Mark Romanek. Joe Johnston (The Rocketeer, Jumanji) stepped in and filming was completed that spring. The movie was initially set for release November 2008, but that date was continually pushed back before finally hitting theaters this February. The opening months of the year are generally a dumping ground for the studios. The score by Danny Elfman was replaced by another composer’s work before filmmakers decided to go back to Elfman’s. The indecision about the release date and music are indicative of the troubled production. No one seemed to know which direction to take the movie.
To Johnston’s credit, he has crafted a moody and atmospheric picture aided by the fantastic make-up by Rick Baker, the artist who also worked on American Werewolf in London. You marvel at the costumes and the sets until someone gets disemboweled. When the wolf strikes, limbs are ripped off and intestines are strewn about repeatedly. In Wolfman’s best sequence, Del Toro is strapped to a gurney in a sanitarium as his doctor obliviously lectures his colleagues on Talbot’s delusions. Of course, Talbot morphs into the wolfman freaking out the entire room. It’s not long before someone gets impaled and we watch a CGI wolfman tear-assing through London.
The movie switches back and forth from an old-fashioned slower pace to a modern, action-oriented approach. In the end, all of Baker’s wonderful practical effects are for naught as the climax involves two badly rendered CGI furballs ripping into each other. Come for The Wolfman, stay for Van Helsing?
On the surface, The Wolfman appears to be a picture deserving of being a tentpole release. It has an A-list cast. The acting is more than adequate with Hopkins bringing those same hammy sensibilities left over from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Instead, it’s a forgettable popcorn movie, passable for a rent. Well, at least it’s better than Teen Wolf.
Rating: **
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