While watching Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man, I wondered, “Have we forgotten how to make genre movies?” Not movies that mix genres elevate them or, god forbid,d play as some kind of homage to them. But simple, straightforward genre movies.
On some level, I’m being facetious. Jaume Collet-Serra’s Carry-On isn’t even a month old. But I’m semi-serious here. Have we just forgotten how to make genre movies without worrying about reinventing them, updating them, or elevating them? I ask because I just sat through Whannell’s Wolf Man, the second werewolf movie of the month, and much like Werewolves, it seems hellbent on being the least interesting version of a werewolf movie it could be.
That’s right, in the year of our lord 2025, Leigh Whannell looked at the gothic romance of the wolf-man tale and said, “But what if we made it realistic?” We are, and have been, in the worst time-line.
As much as I didn’t like Werewolves, it at least felt like it liked werewolf movies. Wolf Man feels like it finds them silly, or worse, feels as if the audience might. Whannell and Corbett Tuck, his wife and co-writer, have attempted to strip the wolfman tale of all its recognizable signifiers.
There are no shots of a full moon, no talks of curses, wolf’s bane, silver bullets, or Romanian characters warbling out dire prophecies. Heck, there’s not even a real wolfman. Not to spoil Wolf Man right off the bat, but the entire selling point for Whannell seems to have been, what if we spend the whole movie watching Christopher Abbott’s Blake slowly transform into a larger-than-average gollum?
Most of the film takes place in Blake’s father’s old cabin. His father,r having disappeared and finally presumed dead, Blake, his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner), and their daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth) go up to the cabin to sort through his things. Wouldn’t you know it, after a string of unfortunate events, the three find themselves trapped, alone, cut off, as a mysterious wolf-creature hunts them.
Whannell and Tuck make the boneheaded decision to keep Ginger as part of the core cast. It’s a boneheaded decision, not because Firth is a lousy actor but because she’s not. Considering how little Whannell and Tuck give her to work with, she does a tremendous job. But the problem becomes that her presence robs Wolf Man of any tension.
Nothing and I mean nothing, in Whannell’s past work or the modern theatrical landscape, says that either he, Blumhouse Studios, or the shareholders have the cajones to kill off a child. Sure, put her in danger all you want, but she has to make it out alive. The mother is also safe since the kid can’t make it out alone. Blake is too busy transforming into a goblin creature, sorry, a “werewolf,” which leaves precious little for us to be on the edge of our seats about.
A smart director would have turned to the family dynamics to keep us compelled. To Whannell’s credit, that is what he’s trying to do. Except there’s no there, there. The relationships are too shallow for a locked room suspense creature feature to work. Blake and Charlotte’s marriage is on the rocks. Why? Don’t know.
It should be mentioned that Garner is astounding. With her stark facial features and pale blonde hair, she embodies a complex mixture of vulnerability and strength—something Abbott is denied because his character is so flat in comparison. But Garner’s performance could have been a centerpiece to build a moody thriller around. Too bad she’s in Wolf Man.
The movie’s beginning shows a young Blake hunting with his father, Grady (Sam Jager). Wolf Man had a promising start as it appeared to be an attempt to smuggle in a story about ill-prepared fathers trying their best to love and raise their children. Something Whannell is hinting at as the relationship between Blake and Ginger seems to be a more loving version of what he had with his father, but with his temper raising its ugly head periodically.
This parallel allows Whannell and Tuck to stumble upon some wonderful moments of poetic sadness. Blake explains to Ginger that parents sometimes try so hard to protect their children from being scared by the world that they become the thing that scars them. This would have carried the film beautifully in more agile and observant hands.
Instead, we’re left wondering why Abbott, Garner, and Firth’s performances are doing amongst all this dreck. If not for Arjen Tuiten’s magical creature effects, Wolf Man would be a waste of time. Using all practical effects, one of the few clever decisions Whannell makes, Tuiten gives a tactile feel to Blake’s transformation, even if I had to stifle a giggle at the final reveal.
I saw Wolf Man at my local Maya Theater, in the DBX auditorium. DBX is Maya’s version of Regals 4DX, which essentially attempts to make going to the movies more exciting by adding vibrating chairs, smoke, water sprays, and strobe lights. Well, at least that’s what 4DX is. DBX is mainly just a vibrating chair, which, combined with the film’s lackluster pacing, lulled me into a light nap more than a few times.
It also didn’t help that the Maya, in a vain attempt to save on bulb life, didn’t adequately light the screen, so Stefan Duscio’s dark lighting was even murkier. I have considered all this and admit they may have soured my viewing. But after discounting my not-so-great time at the movies, what’s left is the movie itself, which isn’t great either.
After all, even if the film had been properly projected, and I would have seen it in a normal theater, the movie still would have the scene where the family climbs atop a greenhouse’s plastic outer shell with a plastic tarp to escape the monster. I did not like this movie.
Still, Duscio and Whannell have a few interesting ideas, such as how they show us the world from Blake’s point of view, shrouded in vibrant blue light, unable to understand his wife and daughter because his humanity is rapidly ebbing. But between these little moments, Wolf Man is a cowardly, dull, and tepid monster movie that wastes a talented special effects team and tries to substitute a lack of character and story with shots of the Pacific Northwest wilderness. Something else Whannell fails at is that even the panoramic view of the countryside feels rote and listless.
I didn’t like Werewolves either but at least it had werewolves and a giant fuck-all moon. Whatever issues I had with the film, it felt like it wanted to be a werewolf movie. Wolf Man feels like it wants to be taken seriously, but in so doing, it jettisons everything that makes a werewolf movie beautiful. The worst crime of all is how it replaces the haunting gothic tragic beauty inherent in the tale and replaces it with a shallow psychological study of dysfunctional families.
Whannell’s attempt to rewrite a tired story is admirable. But if you’re going to do that, you should have something to replace it. Whannell has nothing; he removed the heart and put a shadow of an idea in its place.
Images courtesy of Universal Pictures
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