Skip to main content

REVIEW: Wolf Man

    The thing about any figure as iconic as The Wolf Man is ... you already know how his story ends because there's only one way it can end. Much in the same way that any "King Kong" movie has to end with the ape falling off of the Empire State Building. Any other ending just feels incongruent. Grafted from some other story. The equation can only produce a single sum. As Maria Ouspenskaya warned us in the original Wolf Man, "So tears run to a predestined end." 

    I'll break the film critic's seal here a little and say that, if you love the Wolf Man figure, then you already know what happens to him at the end of Leigh Whannel's film, and you already basically know why. 

    But I don't for a second count that as a bad thing. Reinvention is easy. Doing your homework, that takes commitment. And Whannel's new film does its homework.


    Here, our Wolf Man is Blake, a loving father living in the city with his daughter, Ginger, and his wife, Charlotte. The story sees Blake and Charlotte, at a crossroads in their marriage, deciding to return to the cabin of Blake's youth where he lived with his father, who disappeared into the woods years ago. 

    But no sooner has night fallen than something, a creature with both human and animal characteristics, sends their car careening over a cliff. Before they've scampered under moonlight to the safety of Blake's old cabin, the creature rakes Blake with its terrible claws. The creature continues to menace them throughout the night, but as a terrifying metamorphosis takes over Blake, something far more monstrous than teeth or claws might tear this family apart before daylight. 

    A lot of these motifs can be traced directly to the 1941 film: a gentle man of good manners returns to his father's home, he is attacked by something supernatural yet also human, and suddenly he is put in a position to question whether he has the capacity to hurt the people he loves the most. This connective tissue is what gives the film so much authority, and a trustworthy bank of ideas to draw from. 

    There are also some tricks in reserve that won't reveal themselves until you see the film for yourself: the trailers do pull a bit of a sleight of hand, distorting exactly what monster is chasing what person and how we all feel about that, which keeps the audience guessing. Abbot's Wolf Man differs from Chaney's some eighty years ago in one distinct way. Of course, whether or not that matters ... is one bit of insight I'll let audiences discover for themselves.

    Whannel says he started writing this film during the global pandemic of 2020. The film is not set during this period, but you can feel the chill of the film living under its shadow. Before long, the film retreats into a landscape that feels all too familiar to a world under lockdown--that dreadful sense of being the only people in the world facing off against something unseeable and relentless. You also find this with the minimal cast of only four or five speaking parts (plus a younger version of Blake, played by Zac Chandler in the film's prologue). 

    The centerpiece is obviously the Wolf Man himself, Christopher Abbot. The softness he brings to Blake makes the prospect of any kind of violence from him seem unimaginable, and yet the beast takes over him on a subterranean level, in a way that it only could in the hands of a master actor. Julia Garner has the deliberate feel of a lamp that has gone out. Ideal ground for her spark to flare when the monster comes calling for her and her family. Ginger, meanwhile, emerges as the least complicated of the trio. The writing generally has her default to tried and true talking points of child characters in these kinds of stories, but human-cupcake Matilda Firth certainly doesn't take away from the role. 

    Almost as essential as any onscreen actor in a werewolf story is the performance of the make-up artist. You think the greatest trick in this magician's bag is burying Christopher Abbot under something feral and rabid, and so you're caught off guard when you see this mangy creature emitting authentic human emotion even at the height of the film's tension. Credit also to the sound work of this film, including and especially composer Benjamin Wallfisch, for imbuing this beastly assault with the beating tick that feels genuinely invasive.

    The film asks a lot of questions--questions about family, questions about heredity, questions about human nature. The film homes in on the most essential of these in its closing act. Others go unanswered, but not because the film has forgotten about them. Rather it offers the grace of recognition, catharsis, the assurance that everyone in the theater is asking these questions together, and that can be enough for a moment.

        --The Professor


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Westerns Riding off into the Sunset

In both my Les Miserables and Moulin Rouge! pieces, I made some comment about the musical as the genre that receives the least love in the modern era. I stand by that, but I acknowledge there is one other genre for which you could potentially make a similar case.  I am referring of course to the western film. See, musicals at least have Disney keeping them on life support, and maybe one day we’ll get the  Wicked  movie Universal has been promising us for fifteen years [FUTURE EDIT: All good things, folks ]. But westerns don’t really have a place in the modern film world. Occasionally we’ll get films like  No Country for Old Men,  which use similar aesthetics and themes, but they are heavily modified from the gun-blazing-horseback-racing-wide-open-desert w esterns  of old.  Those died, oddly enough, around the same time musicals fell out of fashion.              Professors Susan Kord and El...

REVIEW: HOPPERS

     In the 1950s under the threat of nuclear warfare, Hollywood premiered such exercises as The Day the Earth Stood Still or War of the Worlds where an alien power would pass judgment on humankind, holding its fate in its hands. Here in the 2020s under the shadow of such threats as climate change, Hollywood sends to be our judge ... beavers.     Let me back up ...      Daniel Chong's new film from Pixar Animation, Hoppers , sees  Mabel (Piper Curda), a college student whose self-appointed mission is to preserve the glade where she used to find sanctuary with her now deceased grandmother. Her biggest opponent is hometown boy and beloved mayor, Jerry (Jon Hamm), who has designs to plow over the glade in order to open his new freeway--estimated to save travelers four whole minutes of commuting.       Mabel gets her golden opportunity when she uncovers secret technology pioneered by her professor which allows a human to rem...

The Pleasantville Lie

Lynn Hunt, American Historical Association, University of California 2002, is best known for her 2007 work Inventing Human Rights , a cornerstone for academic work on the history of human interaction. This landmark work tracked the developing concept of human empathy across European history, especially the function that art and literature played in allowing humans to recognize the interiority and dignity of other humans who were different from them. But in 2002, she shared in the May Issue of Perspectives on History her observations in “presentism,” and the uphill battle of even getting students to engage with history at all, Gladiator (2000) “Presentism, at its worst, encourages a kind of moral complacency and self-congratulation. Interpreting the past in terms of present concerns usually leads us to find ourselves morally superior; the Greeks had slavery, even David Hume was a racist, and European women endorsed imperial ventures. Our forebears constantly fail to measure up to our ...

Silver Linings Playbook: What are Happy Endings For Anyway?

            Legendary film critic Roger Ebert gave the following words in July of 2005 at the dedication of his plaque outside the Chicago Theatre: Nights of Cabiria (1957) “For me, movies are like a machine that generates empathy. If it’s a great movie, it lets you understand a little bit more about what it’s like to be a different gender, a different race, a different age, a different economic class, a different nationality, a different profession, different hopes, aspirations, dreams and fears. It helps us to identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us. And that, to me, is the most noble thing that good movies can do and it’s a reason to encourage them and to support them and to go to them.” Ebert had been reviewing films for coming on forty years when he gave that assessment. I haven’t been doing it for a tenth as long. I don’t know if I’ve really earned the right to pontificate in this same manner. But film ...

All The Ways Sunset Boulevard Has Aged Gracefully

So, stop me if you’ve heard this before: Hollywood has a dark side.          Particularly in the wake of something like #MeToo or the double strikes of 2023, you can really get a sense for just how famishing, even degrading, it can be trying to make a living in Hollywood. But of course, it all goes back much further than those. One of my very first essays for this blog, for example, was a catalogue of all the ways Hollywood ravaged Judy Garland . Yet for all its mess, we cannot take our eyes off of Hollywood, or the people who build it.  Stardom in particular becomes a popular focal point—what is it really like being on the other side of all that spotlighting? And Hollywood has naturally supplied the market with all sorts of imaginings for this as well. Thus, each generation gets its own version of A Star is Born. John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man (1952)      Ty Burr wrote in his landmark work, Gods Like Us , “...

An Earnest Defense of Passengers

          I've heard a lot of back and forth over what the purpose of film is and what we should ask from it. Film as a social amenity kind of has a dual purpose. It's supposed to give the population common ground and find things that people of varying backgrounds and beliefs can unify around. On the other hand, film also creates this detached simulated reality through which we can explore complex and even testing ideas about the contradictions in human existence.     In theory, a film can fulfill both functions, but movies exist in a turbulent landscape. It's very rare for a film to try to walk both lanes, and it's even rarer for a film to be embraced upon entry for attempting to do so.  Let me explain by describing the premise of one of my favorite movies, Morten Tyldum's 2016 film, Passengers .      A key piece of this film ’s plot revolves around the main character, Jim Preston, a passenger onboard a spaceship, who premat...

REVIEW: Star Wars - The Mandalorian and Grogu

      I haven't historically considered myself a "Star Wars" kid. And to be clear, I take no pride in saying that or anything. I respect the property and what it's given to pop culture.      But I do feel like it's worth mentioning in this review that I didn't really go into Jon Favreu's The Mandalorian and Grogu thinking I had much of what I'd call nostalgia for this movie to exploit.       And yet watching this movie, I found myself hearkening back to the things about Star Wars that caught my attention as a kid. For me, that was the gladiator-style match in "Attack of the Clones." This film offers quite a few roller-coasters along those lines. And as far as the creature designs go for the monsters in these arenas, they were quite good. I wasn't trying too hard to anticipate which were computer-generated and which were puppeted, but the aesthetics of both the Jim Henson era and the Spielberg era sat very well here in this vessel....

The Belle Complex

As Disney fandom increasingly moves toward the mainstream, the discussions and questions that travel around the community become increasingly nuanced and diverse. Is the true color of Aurora's dress blue or pink? Is it more fun to sit in the back or the front on Big Thunder Mountain? Is the company's continued emphasis on producing content for Disney+ negatively impacting not only their output but the landscape for theatrical release as a whole?  However, on two things, the fandom is eternally united. First, Gargoyles  was a masterpiece in television storytelling and should have experienced a much longer run than it did. Second, Belle's prom dress in the 2017 remake was just abominable.      While overwhelmingly successful at the box office, the 2017 adaptation is also a bruise for many in the Disney community. Even right out the gate, the film came under fire for a myriad of factors: the auto-tuned soundtrack, Ewan McGregor's flimsy accent, the distracting plot...

Fine, I Will Review The Percy Jackson Show (again)

     I have wondered if I was the only one who thought that "Sea of Monsters" was the weakest of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians pentalogy, but I have seen my reading echoed by other book loyalists.      This second installment is perhaps penalized partially because it marks several major junctions in the larger series. This is, for example, the part of the series where the scope of the adventure really starts to enlarge. We know going in that there's an angry, deceased titan out to destroy Olympus, and that he's amassing an army, and so we need a sense that this threat is growing stronger. But this also marks a turning point in how series author, Rick Riordan, chooses to develop his main character. And so, season 2 of the Disney+ television adaptation faces similar crossroads.     Season 3 of this show is already filming as we speak, so its immediate future is already spoken for, as far as production goes. But stylistically, this second seas...

Notoriously Human: Alicia and the "Strongfemalecharacter"

    The further I dive into classical Hollywood, the more taken I am by all its fascinating contradictions.       This wasn't, I'll acknowledge, a period in American history which we think of as being kind toward women or recognizing their autonomy.  The Mark of Zorro (1920)          I think the collective point of reference most people have for women in old movies is the sort of hero's trophy who waits around for the guy to swoop in and carry her out of the mess she has made for herself, and that image has some basis in how Hollywood itself behaved.  But film history covers a lot more than just that one type.                 The Hays Code prohibited illicit sexual material on film, among other things, and was in effect until the early 1960s. Because sexual content was greatly monitored and regulated, female characters weren’t really objectified--at lea...