The Wolfman

Amidst a flurry of largely unsubstantiated online rumours about edit disputes and re-shoots, and a series of confirmed personnel changes, The Wolfman is finally unleashed, some 15 months after originally planned. It is a relatively faithful remake of the highly regarded 1941 film of the same name, and as such it is a classic, linear horror, with all of the requisite shock and gore. Benicio Del Toro not only acts in it but also serves as a producer, which goes some way to explaining the eccentric decision to cast an American of Puerto Rican descent as the son of an English nobleman.

The year is 1891 and Del Toro plays Lawrence Talbot, an actor living and working in America. He receives a letter from his brother’s fiancée Gwen (Emily Blunt, the female Victorian du jour), who informs him that her intended has vanished in mysterious circumstances. Talbot journeys back to his ancestral home in England where he becomes reacquainted with his father, Sir John Talbot, played by Anthony Hopkins. Once there, Lawrence begins an investigation into his brother’s disappearance that results in him being bitten and infected by a werewolf. And we all know what that means.

Lycanthropy has been popular in folklore for centuries, and the werewolf as bipedal humanoid has been seen regularly in horror films since its first appearance in 1935. So the struggle to contain the furry monster within is a well-trodden trope to which this film doesn’t add a great deal. However, the attitude of one of the afflicted – embrace the rage and ‘run free’ on bloodthirsty killing sprees – is more novel, and provides an entertaining climax.

The transformation of Del Toro into the eponymous Wolfman is well executed via a lot of graphic bone-crunching, skin-stretching and fur-sprouting, but the finished creature is a slightly uneasy marriage of up-to-the-minute CGI, which creaks when the thing moves apace on all fours, and rather more traditional monster make-up. The make-up, deftly created by Rick Baker, the man behind the design of An American Werewolf in London, is charming and a clear nod to the appearance of the original Lou Chaney Jr monster. Although unfortunately, it does bear more than a passing resemblance to Jim Carrey’s Grinch.

While the script is a little cliché-heavy, there are still strong performances to enjoy, notably from Hopkins and Hugo Weaving, who relishes every well-reasoned line he delivers as the fictionalised Inspector Aberline (the officer who investigated the Jack The Ripper murders). Emily Blunt’s role, however, is somewhat irrelevant, and the development of the relationship between her and Lawrence is rendered too slightly and thus left thoroughly unconvincing. That is a problem that runs throughout – the pacing is too breakneck and leaves a paucity of breathing room for pathos and reflection.

The Wolfman delivers plenty of scares and an abundance of eviscerations, but director Joe Johnston doesn’t take the film anywhere unexpected. He adheres too rigidly to the template of the original, where he might have been better advised to use it as mere inspiration.

Rick Edwards

Anticipation:

A man who already looks like a wolf playing a werewolf? Sounds promising.

Enjoyment:

Plenty of gore and engaging performances will keep you entertained enough.

In Retrospect:

Wonder how it would have turned out if Mark Romanek had stayed at the helm?