"The Wolfman" Movie Review (2010)

Movie Review

“The Wolfman”

Directed by Joe Johnston, written by Andrew Kevin Walker and David Self, 91 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

The new Benicio Del Toro movie, “Hirsute and Hatin’ It” (okay, “The Wolfman”), is so ripe with the stink of fouled fromage, it should have taken place in France instead of Victorian England. But here we are, wet and slumming it, and while the set decoration is excellent, the same can’t be said for the film itself.

If you follow movie news, you know this beauty has been delayed and tweaked for months by its studio, Universal, which allowed its 1941 classic film of the same name (sort of--it was called “The Wolf Man” then) to be bastardized by director Joe Johnston, the man responsible for such crowd-pleasures as “Jumanji” and the forever-memorable “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.”

Johnston’s remake was supposed to howl in theaters last year. The irony? It became a howler in theaters this year. Sure, that’s a cliché and a bad joke, but it’s also a community service. If that line didn’t take you down, you should know that it has nothing on the several cringe-inducing moments in “The Wolfman.”

Just for the hell of it, let’s first point our fingers at screenwriters Andrew Kevin Walker and David Self. They are, after all, the people who saddled audiences with the film’s trite, boring script, and who failed to strike a balance between a serious horror movie and one tinged with elements of camp. While that was handled with finesse in John Landis’ terrific 1981 cult movie, “An American Werewolf in London,” here the two collide and then collapse in their strained effort to come together.

About the story. It’s been changed. For instance, instead of being an astronomy student in California, as Lon Chaney Jr. was in the original, we now have Del Toro as Lawrence Talbot, a Shakespearean actor in New York circa 1891 who returns to England when word comes that his brother has gone missing and then is found murdered. And by murdered, we’re talking torn apart. By what? Lycenthropy! Determined to find his brother’s killer, Lawrence takes to the woods and starts his dumb search. Naturally, he has a nasty brush with the werewolf who killed his brother, and he’s bitten. Cue the moon.

Larry’s questionable father, Sir John (Anthony Hopkins, employing every accent in his deep bag of tricks, not the least of which are elements of the character from which he apparently never can escape, Hannibal Lecter), is a sorry replacement for Claude Rains, who had the capacity to elicit sympathy. Hopkins doesn’t--at least not here, where he’s featured as a cold caricature with a feasting heart, in which is tucked a secret that sucker-punches the movie. It won’t be revealed here, but what were they thinking?

Providing a bodice and a trembling bottom lip is Emily Blunt, who should have returned to her livelier role in “The Young Victoria.” Here, Blunt is Lawrence’s dead brother’s former intended. Who wants to bet she takes a moonshine to Lawrence? Also in the movie is Hugo Weaving, who plays a detective from Scotland Yard.

Now, about the gore. Here’s a tip--don’t eat before watching the movie because here’s what’s on the menu--severed heads, ropes of entrails, kidneys ripped free from messy midsections, and the transformation of Lawrence into the Wolfman himself. The movie actually excels here, offering its best scene as Lawrence is questioned about his current state of being only to go bananas for bloodshed while screaming “I will kill all of you!” He’s not joking. The scene has what much of the movie lacks--tight action, nice editing, and some genuine chills as Lawrence gets down to the gutting.

Too much gutting, actually. “The Wolfman” is filled with so much over-the-top gore, you have to wonder whether Johnston knows how to build suspense at all. You want to take his hand, pat it, and say, “Less is more, Joe.” But no. His heavy-handed approach harms a movie that should have been ensconced in Lawrence’s confusion and self-loathing, not blood for the sake of blood. It’s a choice that costs the movie plenty, beginning with its soul.

Still, in the end, at my screening at least, the best part of the show had nothing to do with what was onscreen. Instead, somewhere in the theater, one inspired audience member let out a “boo” midway through that lasted for about 10 seconds and sounded amusingly like a werewolf howling, complete with a pitch that increased to the heavens. Whoever did it, bravo.

Grade: D+

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