AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981)
When the beast within gains the reins.
David
Kessler (David Naughton) and Jack Goodman (Griffin Dunne) are two American youths on a
walking tour of Europe who find themselves in the isolated rustic
Northern English town of East Proctor, the kind of place where the
locals are close-mouthed around outsiders and where remnants of a pagan
past are evident. Earning the displeasure of the regulars at the
Slaughtered Lamb pub after Jack asks them why there's a big pentagram on
the wall — a symbol that he notes to David is the sign of the werewolf
(Jack's obviously seen THE WOLF MAN) — the hapless tourists find
themselves booted from the establishment and, against the advice of the
creepy, tight-lipped indigenous populace, wander off the roads and into
the fog-enshrouded moors during a full moon, where they fall prey
to…well, you have a pretty good idea if you’ve noticed the film's title.
Jack doesn’t survive the attack, but David awakens weeks later in a
London hospital under the care of a mouth-watering nurse (the one and
only Jenny Agutter) and is visited by the mangled corpse of his best
buddy. The disturbingly-mutilated Jack — who has lost none of his
friendliness, charm, and sense of humor in the wake of his horrific
murder — warns David that he’s now a werewolf and must kill himself
before the next full moon, but if the disbelieving David had killed
himself the movie would have been about twenty minutes long and pissed
off an audience that came expecting some righteous monster action, so
you can guess the rest.
Rearing its shaggy head just four months after the equally-classic
lycanthropy opus THE HOWLING, AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON upped the
shape-shifting ante by having a major studio budget, a writer/director
who wielded no small amount of clout in the wake of the success of his
NATIONAL LAMPOON'S ANIMAL HOUSE (1978) and THE BLUES BROTHERS (1980),
picturesque UK locations, the toothsome and talented Jenny Agutter, and
FX badass Rick Baker on the makeup/creature effects, so how could it
lose? Frankly, it didn’t and almost thirty-five years after the
fact it still vies with THE HOWLING for top position in the hearts of
most werewolf mavens. (Hell, I paid to see it three nights in a row when
it came out!).
A horror movie for grownups that came out during the avalanche of
brain-dead and juvenile1980's slasher pictures — their gore and
nudity/sex notwithstanding — and provided a welcome alternative,
AMERICAN WEREWOLF fires on all cylinders, engaging its audience with
likable characters, a doomed love story, and some of the most indelible
moments of cinematic horror of its decade. The foreboding atmosphere
during the sequences in East Proctor fairly screams old school Universal
Horror transplanted to the early 1980's, a soundtrack loaded to the
rafters with songs referencing the moon is intelligently handled and
never grows corny or trite, and the film especially gets extra points
for Griffin Dunne's unforgettable performance as Jack, the most cheerful
mangled and steadily decomposing corpse you’ll ever see.
Griffin Dunne as Jack: if ever there was a supporting role that completely steals the film it's in, this is it.
The film is also to be commended for opting to depict the
cinematically-rare (though more mythically-common) fully non-human
four-legged variety of "Shaggy McNasty" as opposed to the usual bipedal
guy with a terminal case of five o'clock shadow. Rick Baker's practical
effects puppet of David's lupine form features a spectacular and
original design that skews waaaaaaay into monster territory and is about
as far removed from Lon Chaney Jr. as one could hope to get. It looks
more like a demonically-possessed giant wolverine than a wolf, and as
such it is scary as a motherfucker. Though only occasionally glimpsed,
the beast is a nightmarish creation whose stalking of innocents through
the London night and later rampage in and around a porno theater are
realized to maximum visceral effect.

Very entertaining and engaging from start to finish, some find AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON's blend of humor and horror to be somewhat jarring and as a result feel that the film is deeply flawed by a schizophrenic tone, but I vehemently disagree with that assessment. THE HOWLING is also quite amusing — admittedly, provided you get the in-jokes that are aimed squarely at those well-versed in their horror movie minutia — but no one ever bitches about it being a mess, which leads me to wonder if AMERICAN WEREWOLF's detractors are more willing to cut a "smaller" flick a bit more slack. Whatever the case, you’ll just have to judge AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON for yourself. Me, I fucking love it. Werewolves are my favorite monsters, thanks to their often tragic and unwilling connection to nature and all of its more rapacious and unrestrained aspects, so a werewolf story of this level of quality was more than tailor-made for the likes of myself. It had a tremendous impact on me and my friends way back when and it helped me get through a particularly rough and frustrating section of my troubled adolescence, so for that I will always have a warm place in my heart and mind for its collision of the mundane with supernatural horror of the most wrenching order. Definitely my favorite werewolf movie (alongside the original THE WOLF MAN) and also one of my very favorite films of any genre, AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON get my HIGHEST RECOMMENDATION.





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