Wolf Man

Wolf Man, directed and co-written by Leigh Whannell, is an ambitious but uneven reimagining of a classic Universal monster, attempting to modernize lycanthropy in much the same way as The Invisible Man revisited the cult horror film in 2020. While its interpretation of the wolfman myth addresses themes of trauma, fatherhood and primal fear, the film struggles to forge a coherent identity, struggling under the weight of its aspirations. The film resembles a hybrid of raw potential and undercooked narrative - a beast torn between its instinctive hunger for horror and its reflexive nature about humanity's darkest impulses.

From the outset, Wolf Man offers an atmospheric plunge into generational trauma. A tense prologue shows young Blake, drawn into the Oregon wilderness by his survivalist father, Grady, whose militant overprotectiveness seems more threatening than any predator on the prowl. This dynamic echoes Joe Dante's The Howling in its exploration of the pressures of control and transformation. However, whereas Joe Dante's film revelled in psychological tension, Leigh Whannell's grim realism tones down the energy, opting for slow-burning dread rather than visceral shocks.

The narrative, propelled by Christopher Abbott's adult Blake, tackles familiar but powerful ideas. Blake's return to his father's abandoned cabin with his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner) and daughter Ginger sets the stage for a claustrophobic confrontation. Here, Leigh Whannell positions the werewolf curse not as gothic horror, but as a metaphor for inherited rage and uncontrolled emotions - a beast passed down through the bloodline. Blake, a stay-at-home dad struggling with his wife's professional estrangement, becomes both protector and threat to his family, mirroring Grady's suffocating paranoia. This dichotomy had the potential to elevate the film, but Wolf Man fails in its execution, often reducing rich thematic threads to superficial gestures.

One of Wolf Man's boldest moves is its abandonment of the traditional lycanthropy story. No silver bullets, full moons or skyward howls - Leigh Whannell presents the transformation as a grotesque disease. The body horror borrows heavily from David Cronenberg's The Fly, which presents Blake's change as an agonizing crumbling of humanity. Teeth loosen and fall out, nails crack and his skin rots. Yet unlike The Fly, which made its protagonist's descent emotionally devastating, Wolf Man never fully invests itself in Blake's internal struggle, leaving the audience to watch the film from a cold distance.

This detachment is exacerbated by Leigh Whannell's stylistic choices. The film's muted color palette and subdued lighting, while evocative at times, render much of the action visually indistinct. A critical sequence in a barn, echoing the misty moorland suspense of An American Werewolf in London, is so dimly lit that it loses its tension. The practical effects, while admirable in their conception, fail to inspire terror, especially when compared to the breathtaking transformations of Joe Johnston's The Wolfman (2010) or Rick Baker's groundbreaking work in The Howling. Even Blake's final form - a sickly, emaciated hybrid - lacks the primal power of previous werewolves, feeling more pitiful than fearsome.

It's in dissecting family dynamics that Leigh Whannell's film is at its strongest. The script cleverly parallels Blake's collapse with his father's authoritarian presence, linking lycanthropy to the toxic legacy of trauma. Blake's desperate attempts to protect Ginger from danger ultimately mirror Grady's oppressive tactics, highlighting the idea that protecting loved ones can sometimes cause the very scars we fear. Yet the film fails to fully explore these emotional underpinnings, often sidelining character development in favor of repetitive survival sequences.

Julia Garner and Matilda Firth infuse the film with much-needed humanity. Garner, as Charlotte, convincingly portrays a woman caught between her professional ambitions and the disintegration of her family. Her transition from skeptical observer to determined protector is convincing, although the film's pace doesn't allow her arc to breathe. Firth's Ginger, though sometimes venturing into the territory of precociousness, offers a tender counterpoint to the horror, her bond with Blake underscoring the tragedy of her transformation.

In the pantheon of werewolf films, Wolf Man occupies an awkward intermediate position. It lacks the visceral thrills of The Howling and the pathos of The Fly, instead settling for a somber meditation on masculinity. If its stripped-down approach echoes the indie ethos of Ginger Snaps, it doesn't match that film's acerbic commentary or dynamic pace. Similarly, the reimagining of the werewolf as a viral affliction is a missed opportunity to deepen the allegory of body horror. Even the werewolf vs. werewolf confrontation, presented as a centerpiece, fails to deliver the cathartic release of Piccadilly Circus chaos in An American Werewolf in London. Instead, it feels superficial, recalling the film's tendency to allude to grandeur without fully embracing it.

Wolf Man is a film torn between its ambitions and its execution. Leigh Whannell's attempts to ground the story in realism result in a thematically rich but emotionally thin narrative, weighed down by disappointing scares and uneven pacing. Although Christopher Abbott delivers a committed performance, and the film's exploration of fatherhood offers glimpses of depth, the whole never blends into a satisfying whole. For those looking for a reflection on the history of werewolves, Wolf Man may offer some intrigue. But compared to the visceral terror of The Howling or the tragedy of The Fly, it feels like a fleeting shadow - present one moment and gone the next, leaving little memory behind.

Wolf Man
Directed by Leigh Whannell
Written by Leigh Whannell, Corbett Tuck
Based on The Wolf Man by Curt Siodmak
Produced by Jason Blum
Starring Christopher Abbott, Julia Garner, Sam Jaeger
Cinematography : Stefan Duscio
Edited by Andy Canny
Music by Benjamin Wallfisch
Production companies : Blumhouse Productions, Cloak & Co.
Distributed by Universal Pictures
Release date : January 15, 2025 (France), January 17, 2025 (United States)
Running time : 103 minutes

Seen January 15, 2025 at Gaumont Disney Village, Room Imax 

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