Considering how dicey and longwinded the production "The Wolfman" has apparently been, what with its initial director, the visionary Mark Romanak, departing some time ago, and ultimately replaced with working director Joe Johnston, then reshoots and release date juggling, it's truly a wonder it's as good as it is. And it is pretty good - maybe the best gothic horror film I've seen in a while. It is an extremely visually dark film, and appropriately so, as it is set in an always-night, always-foggy Victorian London. Just don't expect a masterpiece - this project has been far too disemboweled (and then re-emboweled) to ever hope to approach that level.
Word is that "The Wolfman" was pretty far along in pre-production, and in fact was precariously close to shooting, when Romanak exited, leaving the studio in quick need of a director competent in handling a large budget and visual effects, but also willing to merely steer someone else's custom vehicle. Who to get? Brett Ratner? McG? Joe Johnston, of "Rocketeer" and "Jurassic Park III" fame, fits the bill as well as any of those more slightly notorious names. For showing up late to party, and having never helmed an R-rated film before, Johnston does well. No gore is spared when it comes to the frequent werewolf group-carnage scenes, which is apparently a big part of the aesthetic screenwriter Andrew Kevin Walker ("Se7en") had in mind when originating this dark opus. All in all, "The Wolfman" has the feel of a working director doing a pretty good job of bluffing his way through a very stylized blueprint he inherited from a bona fide artist. The lack of any creative ownership is felt, but at the same time, there is an obvious level of care and attention to detail put into this film in other aspects (by D.P. Shelly Johnson's moody atmosphere, composer Danny Elfman's striking score, and make-up legend Rick Baker's yak-hair wolf ensemble, to name a just few,) that is impossible to dismiss.
And of course, there is the cast. Leading the pack is the semi-unlikely leading man, Benicio Del Toro, who does a fine job of evoking Lon Chaney Jr.'s original portrayal of the cursed Lawrence Talbot. It's been a while since I've seen the original, but based on my memories, I'd say that Del Toro is less of a sad sack than Cheney Jr. is, although there is a remoteness about him that distances the viewer somewhat. But, Del Toro's well-documented fondness for the character shines through nonetheless. Anthony Hopkins returns to the world of classic gothic horror to play the senior Talbot, Del Toro's father. There's not much of a family resemblance - for one thing, Hopkins manages to subtly ham it up in such a way that he steals every scene he's a part of, something the tired and suffering Del Toro can't and maybe shouldn't do. Hugo Weaving shows up as a sort of quirky monster hunting inspector, and gets plenty of mileage from that supporting role. Finally, there's Emily Blunt, who does just fine in the thankless role of the girl. All are well suited, carrying this sometimes-rickety carriage through its creative muck when necessary.
"The Wolfman" makes it's biggest impression is in the visuals department. The deep, deep blacks of this brooding world are felt always. This atmospheric style goes a long way to help the film rise to greater heights, and it rises above being mere window dressing on an otherwise threadbare skeleton. In many ways, the atmosphere IS the movie, and I mean that in a very positive way. The palpable blackness is frequently accented with proper glinting highlights of silver, and of course red - an often-exaggerated blood red. All of this adds up to what fans should recognize as a pure love letter to the history of gothic horror cinema, referencing 1920s German expressionism, Hammer horror films of the 1950s and 60s, and of course the Universal Studios monster legacy that this sprang from.
Where the movie gets into trouble is when it attempts to visually differentiate non-real moments, such as dreams and memories, from the already established, already expressionist non-reality of this world proper. When considering the awkward double imaging and raindrops-to-hyperspace effects that are utilized to signify psychological flashbacks, one has to ask if it is really necessary to further push the visual limits in this film. These few instances really stand out, and unlike the triumphant execution of the general atmosphere of the film, they remove the viewer from the story. There are also instances of clunky editing, no one quite knowing the best creative route from one sequence to the next. Sometimes a traditional cross-dissolve just doesn't cut it, folks.
While most contemporary werewolf stories have been allegories for repression both sexual and societal, this version of "The Wolfman" opts to go the far more rare and classier traditional gothic route of examining man's fallen nature in the world. Talbot is cursed, living in a clearly supernatural world that is becoming increasingly ruled by the rising tide of humanist rationalism. My favorite scene in the film comes towards the middle, when Talbot, having been institutionalized, is brought before a group of hoighty-toighty upper-class gents during a lecture. He is tightly bound in a chair with leather straps. It is the night of a full moon, and the audience chuckles when informed of Talbot's "delusional" condition. "Now, let's all watch as Mr. Talbot in fact does not transform into this wolf creature, shall we?" It isn't long before the supernatural reality of the situation gruesomely trumps their little modernist gathering. Point well made.
"The Wolfman" is an interesting beast. On one hand, so much love and care has been put into it that it's impossible not to give it its due accolades. But on the other hand, it's also a painting in search of its painter - not unlike Del Toro's Talbot in search of his father's true soul. With expectations properly in check, fans of gothic horror should have no problems appreciating this ferocious beast of a film.
- Jim Tudor