The Wolfman: movie review
Back in the 1930s and early 鈥�40s, Universal was the studio for horror films, spinning several successful franchises with adaptations of classics (鈥淔rankenstein,鈥� 鈥淒racula鈥�) and variations on popular lore (鈥淭he Wolf Man,鈥� 鈥淭he Mummy鈥�). It鈥檚 not surprising that they try to revive various of these properties every few decades. Hence, this remake of the 1941 Lon Chaney Jr. vehicle, which retains most of the plot and characters, as well as the lycanthropy 鈥渞ules鈥� codified by Curt Siodmak, the original screenwriter. (To be fair, Siodmak borrowed heavily from the 1935 鈥淲erewolf of London,鈥� which remains more effective than any of the Chaney Wolfman films and much more effective than this new entry.)
Benicio Del Toro plays Lawrence Talbot, presented here as a famous actor, currently touring England as Hamlet. He is about to depart home to America 鈥� where he has lived for decades, thus sparing Del Toro from affecting a British accent 鈥� when he hears that his brother has disappeared. He dutifully visits the ancestral manse, where he is greeted by his estranged (and strange) father (Anthony Hopkins). Also in attendance are Singh (Art Malik), Lord Talbot鈥檚 Sikh manservant, and Gwen (Emily Blunt), Lawrence鈥檚 sister-in-law-to-be. Or, to be more accurate, his former sister-in-law-to-be: His brother is no longer missing; his hideously savaged corpse has been discovered in a ditch. Sad, indeed, but with the silver lining of making Gwen available for wooing.
While hunting the murderous beast who killed his bro, Lawrence is bitten but survives, thus contracting Wolfman disease himself. Now there are two Wolfmen about. 鈥淲ho is the other one?鈥� one might wonder, if the answer hadn鈥檛 been telegraphed from 10 minutes in.
Filmmakers retooling an old story face the question of whether to update it, try to re-create the original, treat it from a campy distance, or even simply start from scratch. 鈥淭he Mummy,鈥� the most successful of Universal鈥檚 revisited horror films, used the barest bones of the concept as a framework for an 鈥�Indiana Jones鈥� movie 鈥� except without Jones or Harrison Ford or Steven Spielberg.
Many hands labored on 鈥淭he Wolfman鈥�: Joe Johnston replaced director Mark Romanek, one of several changes. Yet nobody seems to have figured out just how to approach the material. Hopkins seems to be acting in a different, broader film than everyone else. Del Toro, in contrast, seems, frankly, lost.
Del Toro鈥檚 casting is the biggest problem, which is remarkable since this was his pet project from the start. Physically he鈥檚 a good pick as a Chaney surrogate; with dark circles around his droopy-lidded eyes, he always looks as if he鈥檚 been awake for 36 hours straight. But, when not in his flamboyant mode (鈥�Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas鈥�), he鈥檚 a very interior actor. In 鈥�Traffic,鈥� we know his character not so much through action or speech as through simple close-ups.
In the genre context of 鈥淭he Wolfman,鈥� his quiet brooding ends up telling us next to nothing about his thoughts. He seems withdrawn at first, then becomes numbingly melancholic after his conversion. He鈥檚 not merely lycanthropic; he鈥檚 misanthropic.
Subtext is equally absent. Werewolves and vampires alike have long been metaphors for repressed sexuality and aggression. 鈥淭he Wolfman鈥� strips that out, but doesn鈥檛 find anything to replace it with. Lawrence鈥檚 condition is the result of simple rotten luck. It means nothing. And his main reaction is basically to go all mopey on us.
Danny Elfman鈥檚 pleasingly melodramatic score works overtime to compensate, but it鈥檚 not enough. Outside of a few shock cuts, 鈥淭he Wolfman鈥� isn鈥檛 scary. In fact, it isn鈥檛 much of anything. Grade: D+ (Rated R for bloody horror violence and gore.)
Peter Rainer, the Monitor's movie critic, is on vacation this week.
