There is a narrative and thematic simplicity to George Waggner’s 1941 classic, The Wolf Man, that is a big part of the reason why the movie works so well. No one would have used the term “toxic masculinity” in those days, but that’s what the story is about. Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.), the less-beloved son of the wealthy Sir John Talbot (Claude Rains), returns home after his older, favored brother dies. Larry is, from the moment we meet him, a creep: he uses his telescope to spy on the beautiful Gwen (Evelyn Ankers) in her bedroom, won’t take “no” for an answer when she refuses a date, and kisses her even when she protests that she’s engaged. He’s soon bitten by a seemingly ordinary wolf, after which he himself transforms into a beast every time the moon is full. It’s a very straightforward metaphor for an unleashed ID, and the sexual appetites that come with it.
Saw co-creator Leigh Whannell's 2020 version of The Invisible Man has a similarly elegant sparseness, which is a big part of the reason that movie works so well. Cecilia (Elisabeth Moss) escapes her abusive boyfriend, the CEO of a big tech company, in the middle of the night, and goes into hiding; the boyfriend subsequently dies by suicide. She’s struggling to pull her life back together when she becomes plagued by strange occurrences that suggest her ex is still very much alive, but for obvious reasons, no one believes her; she must ultimately stand up for herself and take matters into her own hands. It’s a very straightforward metaphor for the way our society often treats victims of domestic abuse.
Given that Whannell so clearly understands how less is more, one would think him a perfect choice to modernize another iconic Universal monster - that being, of course, the Wolf Man. Alas, Whannell’s Wolf Man is thematically and narratively muddled, making for a film that is surprisingly unengaging and ultimately forgettable.
As with his Invisible Man, Whannell - working from a script he co-wrote with his wife, Corbett Tuck - has kept few of the elements from the original picture. Specifically, this Wolf Man once again involves a son returning to the home of his estranged, emotionally-distanced father, only to be attacked and infected by a lycanthrope. This time out, the character’s name is Blake (Christopher Abbott, Sanctuary, Kraven the Hunter), and he’s a not-very-successful writer married to a workaholic journalist, Charlotte (Julia Garner, The Royal Hotel), and raising an adorable lil’ moppet, Ginger (Matilda Firth - the character’s name is, I assume, a deliberate homage to the cult classic werewolf flick Ginger Snaps).
Blake’s survivalist father (Sam Jaeger), who treated Blake more like a private at boot camp than a child, disappeared years ago, but has only just now been declared legally dead. Because the movie has to happen, Blake inexplicably decides that a trip to rural Oregon to pack up his dad’s stuff will ease the growing tension between himself and Charlotte. And so the family soon finds themselves on the isolated farm where Blake was raised. Faster than you can howl at the moon, they’re attacked, Blake is infected, and so on and so forth.
It feels as though Whannell never made any firm decision as to what his story is about. Unlike most werewolf movies, where the metamorphosis is abrupt, Blake’s transformation takes up the bulk of the film’s run time, more closely resembling the slow-boil body horror of David Cronenberg’s The Fly, so it feels a bit like it’s about degenerative disease. One early scene also suggests that Blake has inherited his father’s temper, though, so it’s also kind of about generational trauma. But we only see Blake behave that way once. Maybe it’s about marital issues? The cause of that rift between Blake and Charlotte is never clear; one might assume that Blake is jealous of Charlotte’s success, in which case I suppose the story would once again be about toxic masculinity, but Blake’s envy isn’t ever implied, let alone explicitly stated.
This Wolf Man is not, in other words, a particularly straightforward metaphor for anything; it’s a very roundabout metaphor for a lot of things, none of which stick.
That might be less bothersome if the character work wasn’t so shoddy. Returning to Cronenberg’s The Fly: that movie also had an extremely simple story, which Cronenberg exploited to really develop his characters, lending them a multi-layered richness that ultimately turns the picture into a heartbreaking tragedy.
No such luck in Wolf Man. I can’t tell you anything about Charlotte other than that she’s a workaholic; in one scene, she professes to worrying she’s a bad mother, but there’s no evidence to support that (Garner’s immense talents are truly squandered here). I can’t tell you anything about Blake other than that his childhood sucked. I can’t tell you anything about Ginger other than that she’s a nice little girl. None of these characters pass the adjective test, so we’re never emotionally invested in their fates. The movie winds up being just a lot of people running around and screaming.
And hey, look, it’s not the film’s biggest sin, but it does seem worth mentioning: the design of this werewolf blows. He looks more like a rotting rat than a wolf. It’s hard to believe that anyone thought this was a good update for the wolf man’s look; it’s truly farshtunkene.
There is one excellent conceit in this Wolf Man: Whannell has figured out a way to put us in the subjective viewpoint of Blake as he slowly devolves. The camera circles around him, moving from the P.O.V. of the character speaking to him to his P.O.V., and suddenly, everyone sounds like one of Charlie Brown’s teachers, the colors shift to a bright blue, and the faces of Blake’s loved ones take on their own lupine quality. But by the third or fourth time Whannell pulls this manuever, it’s like, “Okay, we get it.” It’s not enough to hold our interest; that would have required fleshed-out characters and a clear theme.
The Assistant' sold me on Julia Garner, and made me watch the worthwhile 'Royal Hotel' and 'Waco' miniseries. But I hesitate at a wolf movie. However, so many came out the past year that I felt I had to choose one. Since I love indie, especially when someone figures out how to make a real low-budget work. I went for 'Blackout' by director Larry Fessenden, and feel I chose right. It's more a drama, which will put most people off, but that was good for me. The ending made the movie ambiguous and bigger.