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What is it that so appeals to me about the lusty lycanthrope? Shit, I think I just answered my own question: the werewolf is a creature of the basest, most primal lusts — the lust for killing, the lust for sex, the lust to protect its territory, the lust to consume warm, bloody flesh — each something clearly identifiable and understandable as the needs of an animal, something wild and untamed that garners its power from nature itself, rather than denying the natural order by being some reanimated corpse with an agenda. Vampires, for all their elegance, are a mostly bunch of aristocratic, poncy douchebags who most people forget are fucking corpses, and corpses are not exactly known for their pleasant bouquet. I always get grossed out whenever I see some horny suckface putting the moves on a hypnotized, heaving-bosomed cutie who's oblivious to his reeking charms, and while the actual bloodsucking can be read as metaphorical Osh-Osh, I'm way too literal-minded for that and can't help but picture Count Douchebagula's fetid member about to go to work in the Good Place. "Yecch," to say the least (although I've gotta admit that Frank Langella's Dracula was a pretty sexy guy).
The rapaciousness of the werewolf is far less steeped in treachery and mystical date rape tactics than that of the velvet-caped revenant. No less deadly or without quantifiable side effects, certainly, but far more honest in the way of a dog who dislikes you for no apparent reason taking a chunk out of your ass. The werewolf’s all about the indomitability of nature, and vampires, zombies, and other such critters fly in the face of that, which is perhaps what gives them their power, the threat of the expired refusing to be dead as we understand that state of being, and that animate expression of death seeking either to mind-control us, feed on our lifeblood, or feast upon our living flesh to fuel their aimless, undead march.
The werewolf, on the other hand, is as uncontrollable and unpredictable as a natural force while also being a fusion of “civilized” humanity with the primal, and seldom can the two find a harmonious middle ground. The typical protagonist in lupine lore does not embrace the loss of control that accompanies the transformative gift and instead seeks a cure, or, since treatments for lycanthropy are apparently few and far between, they seek death but can’t work up the gumption to off themselves, either from the urge for simple self-preservation, or through some aspect of their curse that also seeks to stay alive. Any way you cut it, the tales of those thus afflicted seldom end well, and that may also be a key to their appeal: a person unwittingly thrust into a supernatural state of great power and animal drives that they can’t hope to comprehend or master, often losing themselves to their lupine side and becoming perceived as a thing of evil, by others and themselves, only to face an inevitable and tragic end that scars the lives of their loved ones.
I can totally relate to that, having done some pretty out of control shit over the years, but I groove on the wolf more for its potential for a connection with the natural world in a way that man has long ago left behind. In legendary tales of werewolfism it’s a frequent given that the shape-shifter has full control over his actions and the moments of transformation, and is not merely a slave to the influence of lunar cycles. Imagine the freedom in that state, the sharpness of the senses, the supple power of a beast built for mastery of its environment, the innate hunting skills of a born predator, and the ability to return to one’s place within human society with the ease of doffing an overcoat…
That would simply be awesome.
So I’m fascinated with all tales of the wolf-folk, be they works of prose, comic books — the standout in that medium would be Alan Moore’s classic SWAMP THING issue with “The Curse,” a story that examines the connection between the lycanthropic cycle and the menstrual cycle — or movies, and speaking as a lover of such stuff I’m here to offer you a guide to the essential cinematic works in the field. And one thing that surprised me while coming up with a list for this piece was how few truly good or even notable werewolf flicks there are, so when you see a good one cherish it and let me know about it in case of the unlikely chance I may not have seen it.
THE WEREWOLF OF LONDON (1935)
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THE WOLF MAN (1941)
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I WAS A TEENAGE WEREWOLF (1957)
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THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF (1961)
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Tragic all the way, it’s interesting that Leon’s troubles come not from being bitten or from some Satanic pact, but from the fact that little baby Jesus apparently has birthday attention issues.
WEREWOLF WOMAN (1976)
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The 1970's offered slim pickings for werewolf fare, and this flick stands as a perfect example of what I'm talking about. This bit of lycanthropic Eurosleaze stars French-born, ferret-faced Annik Borel — late of such classics as BLOOD ORGY OF THE SHE DEVILS (1972) and the Isaac Hayes blaxploitationer TRUCK TURNER (1974) — a blonde with haunted eyes who looks like a fusion of Sondra Locke and Judith Light, a concept for more shudder-inducing than anything found in the film. As was the wont of Eurosleaze actresses of the period, Borel was in no way afraid of shedding her clothing, a point made apparent less than thirty seconds into the flick as she is seen completely bare-assed nekkid, gyrating in a circle of fire to cheesy voodoo drums by the light of the full moon.
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Anyway, the werewolf chick is abruptly seen trussed-up and ready for burning at the stake (we aren’t shown how this happens) and we skip ahead by about two hundred years to then-present day Italy where we meet Daniela (Borel), a mid-twenty-something dead ringer for the werewolf chick who was one of her ancestors. It’s not really made clear, but apparently Daniela summoned the spirit of her shaggy ancestor (that’s what the opening sequence was supposed to be, I guess) and is now possessed by it, giving vengeful power to her deep-seated hatred of men and the sex act. Raped in her early adolescence, she now lives in the country with her kindly and concerned father, but her now-possessed psyche goes completely around the bend when she witnesses her sister having sex with her new husband and lures the guy into the woods where she attempts to seduce him while stark naked and instead tears his throat out with her teeth before dumping his corpse down a ravine.
Driven mad by what she’s done, Daniela is institutionalized but soon escapes with the help of a friendly nymphomaniac (whom she kills with a pair of scissors), immediately embarking on a murderous spree, growling like a crazed wolf and ripping out throats willy-nilly before falling in love with a sweet and hunky stuntman who lives in an abandoned movie studio town once used for filming Spaghetti Westerns (no, seriously). Cured of her bloodlust after a month with this guy (and one of those soft-focus “romantic” montages common to Euro nudie flicks of the seventies), Daniela’s life starts taking a turn for the better. Well, that is until she’s gang-raped by three local scumbags during a home invasion, a trio of from-out-of-nowhere vermin who also murder her lover. NOTE: we are spared the “main event” of the actual gang rape but we do witness the preamble, a nasty bit of business very reminiscent of the most famous sequence in Sam Peckinpah’s STRAW DOGS (1971), and if you’ve seen that movie you know what I’m talking about, so keep that in mind before renting this on date night.
Finally driven irrevocably mad, Daniela decimates her attackers, somehow tracking down each of them despite having absolutely zero clue as to who they are or where they live and crushing two of them with a junkyard’s claw-crane that she learned to operate after watching it in action for about a minute. Catching up with her at long last, the hapless detectives who’ve fruitlessly tracked Daniela since she escaped the mental institution capture her at a remote location where she sits, open-bloused and titties-a-swingin’, sampling spoonfuls of stew from a cauldron (where she got it from is anyone’s guess). Now snarling and completely feral, Daniela is apprehended as a ridiculous voice-over informs us that we’ve just watched a re-enactment of “true” events that took place in 1968. Yeah, right.
Those like me who love werewolf movies were suckered in by WEREWOLF WOMAN’s promise of a straight-up lycanthrope fright-fest, but instead we got a squalid piece of seventies Euro-sleaze exploitation featuring the so-called werewolf being seen only during the movie's first five minutes, minimal gore, no scares or suspense, a script full of ridiculous plot holes, and so much wall-to-wall nudity that I nearly got tired of staring at a naked chick’s bush (say it isn’t so!!!). Simply put, WEREWOLF WOMAN is kind of worth a look as a seventies curiosity that’s infamous for its general uselessness, but if you have something else to do rather than see it, by all means do whatever your other choice is. Believe me, you won’t be missing a blessed thing.
THE HOWLING (1981)
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AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981)
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BAD MOON (1996)
This film is based on the 1992 novel THOR, by Wayne Smith, a story told from the point of view of the titular faithful German Shepherd who lives with a family of humans that he understandably considers his "pack." In the hierarchy of the pack Thor functions as the very capable protector, and his natural abilities are put to the test when a relative, Uncle Ted, comes to visit the family and only Thor, thanks to his animal senses and intuition, realizes that the guy is a werewolf. I have not yet read the book, but the movie apparently follows the book's plot basics, only losing the family's husband/dad and two of the kids, leaving Thor to look out for a single mother (Mariel Hemingway), and her young son (Mason Gamble, the kid from the horrid DENNIS THE MENACE movie). Thor proves his worth as a guardian early on, when a con man tries to fleece money out of the mother by provoking Thor to attack him, unaware that the woman is a lawyer who has prosecuted dozens of would-be hustlers just like him, and from that incident onward the audience knows to trust Thor's instincts.
After an expedition to a foreign land where his colleague/girlfriend is savagely killed by a werewolf and he himself is stricken with the curse of lycanthropy while trying to save her, Uncle Ted (Michael Paré) returns to the States and embarks on a quest to find a cure for what has befallen him. Unfortunately, all avenues prove a dead end and Ted moves into a trailer somewhere in the deep backwoods of the Northwest, where his homicidal lunar activities will stand less of a chance of getting out of hand (a plan that doesn't work because his transformations are nightly and he's wracked up a body count of five before the plot even really gets rolling). When he invites his sister and nephew up to visit (with Thor along for the ride), Ted gets it into his head that the company of his family may be just the thing that will curb his rapacious supernatural urges. It is during this daytime visit that Thor is allowed to sniff about freely in the woods, where he picks up strange scents and the remains of a forest surveyor, a trail that leads right back to Uncle Ted. Thor may not be able to articulate what he senses, but he knows Uncle Ted is something very, very dangerous, and from that moment on he holds the man under very close scrutiny.
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Following his latest murder and with the police investigating literally right outside his trailer door, Ted calls his sister and asks if he can stay with her for a while. Once he parks his trailer outside the family home, Thor immediately sets up a vigil to keep an eye on the lupine visitor. Ted, very much aware that Thor has his number, creepily tries to insinuate himself into a position of power within the pack while going out nightly to chain himself to a tree as his transformed self rages without causing harm to anyone.
Thor witnesses the chained werewolf and has his worst fears realized, returning to the house and pissing on Uncle Ted's camper as a territorial warning. From that moment, you had better believe it's on, and in no time Thor's seemingly vicious and totally mis-interpreted aggression toward Ted lands him in the pound, leaving his pack very much in harm's way. But never underestimate the power of a boy's love for his dog, or the dog's love of his humans...
The film's low budget is certainly evident, but the story more than makes up for any deficiencies in the department of production values. The movie even has a werewolf that's much better than expected, although the transformation sequence is somewhat-justly maligned. Though low on gore (at least by my standards), the film is a lot of fun thanks to its unusual protagonist and if you're a dog-lover like me, you will root for Thor like you haven't rooted for a hero since Indiana Jones went after the Ark of the Covenant. Played by a pooch named Primo, Thor is a canine hero to be reckoned with and he even takes on the werewolf — a goddamned WEREWOLF!!! — twice, in what can only be called savage, animalistic combat. When stacked up against Thor, Rin Tin Tin, Lassie and Benji are a bunch of pussies and they can each suck it.
WOLF (1997)
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GINGER SNAPS (2000)
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One of the rare werewolf movies from a female perspective, GINGER SNAPS is highly recommended for its genuine scares, well-handled lycanthropy/puberty metaphor, and its wicked DeGRASSI HIGH MEETS THE HOWLING sensibility. And the first sequel’s actually pretty good!
DOG SOLDIERS (2002)
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CURSED (2005)
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- Christina Ricci as a girl about to become a werewolf. What’s not to like?
- The spectacular sight of Shannon Elizabeth being torn in half at the waist by a ravening beast.
- A very funny sequence involving a female werewolf who takes umbrage at being called “fat.”
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8 comments:
I liked CURSED more than alot of people. Of course, I've only seen the "Unrated" DVD version, also, but it had a good sense of humor and was scary in the right places.
And I always fucking hated WOLF... Everyone involved was ashamed to admit they were making a horror movie. The end result showed. FRIED GREEN TOMATOES was scarier. Bunch of douchenozzles...
It's also worth mentioning that THE HOWLING is distinguished by having the worst series of sequels EVER in the history of cinema. Worse than all the endless Jason/Michael/Freddy sequels combined!
I'm a sucker for even bad zombie movies. But particularly the newer ones when they can run fast, 'cuz I'm like, I can run faster than that slow M=Fer.
I never understood lycanthropic love before, but now I do! Reviews are wonderful! Why aren't you a paid writer?? I sent it on to my friend who is a sucker for old horror movies. Thanks! And get thee to a publisher now!
I'm glad you mentioned Wolfen, though, even in passing. While not a werewolf movie per se, I like the idea of a breed of wolflike creature with high intelligence and almost supernatural speed and senses, as it gives a sense of something that might be real, and have given rise to the werewolf myth.
I suppose that's the reason that I like the Octavia Butler's novel "Fledgling" as part of the vampire canon, because it posits vampires not as undead but as an parallel evolutionary being that prey on humans, but in a way that isn't altogether predatory by more symbiotic almost. I've always wanted to BE a werewolf, but I've never fancied the idea of being a vampire much (...though the idea of being a sexual thrall to one and providing snacks to her has vast appeal.).
The Howling definitely ranks as the peak of the werewolf movie genre to me, for its mix of all the right touches, from the horrific to violent to sexual to humorous.
BTW, I'm about 3/4 the way through "Moon Dance" which I tracked down a used copy of based on your post and recommendation here. A pity that the content is both too hardcore for the screen and too epic in scope to be able to fit into a single movie...because if turned into a proper film, it would be the ultimate measure by which all werewolf movies would be judged.
A pity, though, that the author (at least from what I see in THIS novel) seems to have trouble with portraying love and kindness. He does it, but the love parts often seem tossed in slapdash, with nowhere near the attention to detail that the more perverse scenes get. I think the violence and perversity NEEDS to be pre-eminent in the novel, but where love does peek in, it shouldn't be handled so blithely (as it was with the good Captain Harper, for example).
Anyway, sorry for the mini blog post.
Just re-watched Ginger Snaps the other day, and I'd rate it as the third-best werewolf movie ever (after American Werewolf) and almost even with The Howling for second place. Aside from Dog Soldiers, the others don't even come close.
I confess, I'll probably go see New Moon, if only for the werewolves. The movie looks awful, but the werewolf effects (at least in the trailer) kick undead romance ass.
The werewolves are the only reason I'll see NEW MOON, but I won't pay the exorbitant NYC ticket price. I can wait for DVD.
Great commentary, as always, Steve!
I'm partial to "The Howling", but only because it's the only entry I've seen in the theater (always adding extra points), and because it was the first werewolf flick I saw. Probably still the best horror movie experience for me to this day.
"Wolf"'s non-makeup moments were interesting, but once they went into tranformation, etc, the movie really stunk. Sad, since a werewolf throwdown between James Spader and Jack Nicholson by all rights should have been unforgettable.
It's disappointing to me that Reed didn't stay with Hammer Studios longer. (I believe he stopped working with them around 1965.) Not that he didn't go on to other good work, but maybe if he had stuck around Hammer wouldn't have found itself in such a rut by the mid-seventies. He brought a very different screen presence from Cushing and Lee, and was significantly younger than them.
And I'm definitely interested in Bad Moon now.
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