An American Werewolf in London (1981)
John Landis
"You'd be surprised what horrors a man is capable of."
This has got to be one of the best Halloween movies ever, right?
I know that's a weird way to start a review, but c'mon. It's a perfect blend of genuine fear, likable characters, an interesting setting, startling amounts of gore, and a twisted sense of humor. That's a rare combination of greatness!
During this Spooktober season, we've taken a look at some films that have been fully realized by their creators, and American Werewolf definitely falls into that category. Something I learned after watching was that John Landis wrote this script when he was 18 years old and spent a decade trying to sell it. It wasn't until he made the megahits Animal House and Blues Brothers that he had the clout to sell such a bloody and dual-toned kind of story to a major studio. It seemed to tap into a rich bloody vein though, because the years following its release featured numerous werewolf themed stories. The big werewolf movie prior to An American Werewolf in London? 1948's Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein.
Landis pretty much owned the adult comedy market in the late 70's and early 80's. Besides Animal House and Blues Brothers, he also made Trading Places, The Three Amigos, and my personal favorite Kentucky Fried Movie. That's some John Hughes level of success, only without the dopey high school teen nonsense.
It's not simply that Landis' films are stupendously funny, they are also so well made, with solid plots and great characters. His talent as a writer and a director of comedy elevated the genre into something that modern Hollywood reveres, but has trouble replicating successfully. Story and development is what drives a comedy and makes the jokes work. You can't jam a bunch of wacky, random nonsense together and hope it works. Story is where American Werewolf draws its strength from, and that's thanks to John Landis.
The movie starts with two college-age friends (David and Jack) from New York on a backpacking trip through Northern England. Through their clever banter and the way they deal with an increasingly bad situation shows us that they're goofy, smart aleck college kids. If the introduction of the main characters goes sideways from the start (like in Invaders from Mars) the audience will just hate them and not care when they're ripped apart by a monster. In the case of American Werewolf, not only are the characters likable alive, but after Jack is torn to shreds by a werewolf, he's the most charismatic undead since Bela Lugosi as Dracula.
Landis didn't try to conceal the plot at all (the title is completely unambiguous), giving everyone except for David and Jack a clear idea of what's about to happen to them. When they make it to the gruesomely advertised village pub, and find a standoffish clientele and a pentagram scrawled on the wall, we all know what's about to happen. It frees us up to see how it will all go down and to enjoy the buildup. It's the old Hitchcock idea of a bomb under the table, but only the audience knows it's there.
Landis said after seeing the film in HD that he was shocked by the gore, and I can see why. While this isn't the grossest scene in the film, the viciousness of the attack is shocking, and the tattered heap that Jack is left in following the mauling is realistically grisly.
David is rescued by the townsfolk who change their minds, but not until he's taken a few nasty scratches to his chest and face. After being shot, the werewolf transforms back into his human form, and David passes out. Three weeks go by, and he wakes up in a hospital in London. Why didn't the townsfolk just chain him up in a barn somewhere, or chop off his head?
Because they're morons, that's why.
I love the dreams that David has while he's convalescing in the hospital. One is wolf-like and involves him running through a forest, hunting and devouring a deer. The other is a far more disturbing vision, and feels like something Landis probably had fears about growing up as a Jewish boy in the cruel midwest in the 1950's and 60's:
Also, as a side note, was this the first "false wake up from a nightmare" in film? It became commonplace throughout the 80's and 90's, but I can't find any record of it before American Werewolf on a slightly-more-than-cursory Internet search.
I know that's a weird way to start a review, but c'mon. It's a perfect blend of genuine fear, likable characters, an interesting setting, startling amounts of gore, and a twisted sense of humor. That's a rare combination of greatness!
During this Spooktober season, we've taken a look at some films that have been fully realized by their creators, and American Werewolf definitely falls into that category. Something I learned after watching was that John Landis wrote this script when he was 18 years old and spent a decade trying to sell it. It wasn't until he made the megahits Animal House and Blues Brothers that he had the clout to sell such a bloody and dual-toned kind of story to a major studio. It seemed to tap into a rich bloody vein though, because the years following its release featured numerous werewolf themed stories. The big werewolf movie prior to An American Werewolf in London? 1948's Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein.
Landis pretty much owned the adult comedy market in the late 70's and early 80's. Besides Animal House and Blues Brothers, he also made Trading Places, The Three Amigos, and my personal favorite Kentucky Fried Movie. That's some John Hughes level of success, only without the dopey high school teen nonsense.
It's not simply that Landis' films are stupendously funny, they are also so well made, with solid plots and great characters. His talent as a writer and a director of comedy elevated the genre into something that modern Hollywood reveres, but has trouble replicating successfully. Story and development is what drives a comedy and makes the jokes work. You can't jam a bunch of wacky, random nonsense together and hope it works. Story is where American Werewolf draws its strength from, and that's thanks to John Landis.
The movie starts with two college-age friends (David and Jack) from New York on a backpacking trip through Northern England. Through their clever banter and the way they deal with an increasingly bad situation shows us that they're goofy, smart aleck college kids. If the introduction of the main characters goes sideways from the start (like in Invaders from Mars) the audience will just hate them and not care when they're ripped apart by a monster. In the case of American Werewolf, not only are the characters likable alive, but after Jack is torn to shreds by a werewolf, he's the most charismatic undead since Bela Lugosi as Dracula.
Landis didn't try to conceal the plot at all (the title is completely unambiguous), giving everyone except for David and Jack a clear idea of what's about to happen to them. When they make it to the gruesomely advertised village pub, and find a standoffish clientele and a pentagram scrawled on the wall, we all know what's about to happen. It frees us up to see how it will all go down and to enjoy the buildup. It's the old Hitchcock idea of a bomb under the table, but only the audience knows it's there.
Definitely a place I'd enjoy
There's a statement somewhere in here about how protective enclaves like to keep their secrets, no matter how destructive they might be. Rather than welcome the boys inside and away from the danger, the townsfolk keep their mouths shut and practically shove them out the door, which eventually dooms about a dozen people to gnarly deaths. It's played as mildly absurd that the pub patrons don't stop them, but it's unfortunately realistic.
As David and Jack try to walk to the next town, they end up lost on the Moors (which is exactly where they were told NOT to go) and notice that the moon is full (which is exactly what they were told to beware). What we came here for happens, and it's cool as heck:
Landis said after seeing the film in HD that he was shocked by the gore, and I can see why. While this isn't the grossest scene in the film, the viciousness of the attack is shocking, and the tattered heap that Jack is left in following the mauling is realistically grisly.
David is rescued by the townsfolk who change their minds, but not until he's taken a few nasty scratches to his chest and face. After being shot, the werewolf transforms back into his human form, and David passes out. Three weeks go by, and he wakes up in a hospital in London. Why didn't the townsfolk just chain him up in a barn somewhere, or chop off his head?
Because they're morons, that's why.
I love the dreams that David has while he's convalescing in the hospital. One is wolf-like and involves him running through a forest, hunting and devouring a deer. The other is a far more disturbing vision, and feels like something Landis probably had fears about growing up as a Jewish boy in the cruel midwest in the 1950's and 60's:
The wolf dream makes perfect sense, but the mutant Nazi death squad really doesn't have anything to do with lycanthropy. It's such a shocking scene (small children are machine gunned while watching the Muppet Show!!) that demonstrates how his mind is changing in the midst of his impending physical transformation. His subconscious is revealing his deepest fears and his upcoming predilection for brutal violence and preying on the innocent. It's a mercilessly terrifying scene, and shows off Landis' genius ability to subtly influence an audience.
Also, as a side note, was this the first "false wake up from a nightmare" in film? It became commonplace throughout the 80's and 90's, but I can't find any record of it before American Werewolf on a slightly-more-than-cursory Internet search.
After David recovers from his double-nightmare, he sees his friend Jack again (although he's a little worse for wear):
Even (maybe especially) in HD, this makeup looks incredible. Both Emily and I were shocked by how gross it was. Evidently in a cut scene, after Jack eats a piece of toast, it falls out of one of his neck gashes, so I'm bummed that wasn't in the version I saw.
Besides the makeup being totally disgusting and awesome, I love the duality of the scene. Jack is always in such a good mood, even after he's been torn to shreds by a werewolf. He's not a Jacob Marley, shaking his chains and crying mournfully, he's just good ol' Jack, best friends with David. It elevates the gore beyond "horrible and sickening" into something way more funny and memorable. To pull this off, the makeup has to be impeccable, and it is.
Landis doesn't just stick with this version of Jack, either. As the story progresses, he starts rotting away and the makeup has to be more and more specialized to fit his mouldering nature. Special effect makeup master Rick Baker (who also worked with David Cronenberg and John Carpenter) really earned his Oscar in this one.
After David is released from the hospital, now warned about his furry future, instead of flying back to the United States, he moves in with his nurse (Alex). I'm not sure what the ethical standards of nursing entail, but if she were a social worker, she'd be in a whole heap of trouble.
Besides the makeup being totally disgusting and awesome, I love the duality of the scene. Jack is always in such a good mood, even after he's been torn to shreds by a werewolf. He's not a Jacob Marley, shaking his chains and crying mournfully, he's just good ol' Jack, best friends with David. It elevates the gore beyond "horrible and sickening" into something way more funny and memorable. To pull this off, the makeup has to be impeccable, and it is.
Landis doesn't just stick with this version of Jack, either. As the story progresses, he starts rotting away and the makeup has to be more and more specialized to fit his mouldering nature. Special effect makeup master Rick Baker (who also worked with David Cronenberg and John Carpenter) really earned his Oscar in this one.
After David is released from the hospital, now warned about his furry future, instead of flying back to the United States, he moves in with his nurse (Alex). I'm not sure what the ethical standards of nursing entail, but if she were a social worker, she'd be in a whole heap of trouble.
Oh, and going back to "movie firsts" for a second, while he's at Alex's apartment, there's a great mirror angle gag:
This scene has been replicated hundreds of times to the point of complete overuse (I love that they use it twice in Shaun of the Dead), but I think it might've started here. Again, the Internet isn't 100% sure, but the obsessive pedantic weirdos over at tvtropes.com can't find an earlier example, so I'm calling it.
David's transformation into the werewolf is exceptionally well done, so even though it required David Naughton to sit in a makeup chair for 10 hours (!!!) before they could shoot, it was totally worth it. And soak it up. This is definitely another "you're never going to see anything like this again" moment in film. Clever prosthetics, quick editing, and untold hours of hard work by artists are all easily and cheaply replaced by some computer animation. No matter how sophisticated CGI gets, nothing's going to look better than this though:
David's transformation into the werewolf is exceptionally well done, so even though it required David Naughton to sit in a makeup chair for 10 hours (!!!) before they could shoot, it was totally worth it. And soak it up. This is definitely another "you're never going to see anything like this again" moment in film. Clever prosthetics, quick editing, and untold hours of hard work by artists are all easily and cheaply replaced by some computer animation. No matter how sophisticated CGI gets, nothing's going to look better than this though:
I like the way his transformation begins so abruptly. In the preceding scene, he paces around the apartment (a bit like a nervous dog) and can't seem to settle on any one thing to do. But when things kick off, they really get going quick. It's terrifying to look at, but that beautifully incongruous (but still moon-themed) soundtrack makes it so that you can't help but laugh. I guess Landis tried to get even more moon songs into the soundtrack, but Cat Stevens wouldn't budge on Moonshadow because he actually believed in werewolves, and Bob Dylan wouldn't allow use of his cover of Blue Moon because of his "religious beliefs." No shame there from me, as I too follow the one true faith of Anubis and find earthly depictions of human/dog hybrids apostatical.
After transforming into Wolf David, he goes on a spree across London, tearing people to shreds in yards, subway stations, and on the riverfront.
In the subway station, we get a good look at something that is a Landis trademark: "See you next Wednesday." If you're curious, you can look up all of the various examples in his films here. It was originally an unimportant line from 2001: A Space Odyssey, which Landis loved, so he'd throw it into his films, sort of like Sam Raimi's Oldsmobile. But we get the most fleshed out example in American Werewolf.
Initially we just get a movie poster in the subway murder scene:
But near the end of the film, we actually get to see the bizarro porno film-within-the-film, and it's fucking great. I feel like most directors would have a couple of shots of the film, maybe to fit in some gratuitous nudity, but not Landis. He knows what makes a bad movie truly funny: incomprehensibility.
In the back of this seedy porno theater, David meets all of the people he killed the previous night. Jack's makeup is outstanding and I especially love how cheerfully British the engaged couple are. They're probably not chuffed about being dead, but that's no reason to act rudely:
I also appreciate the pandemonium on the streets of London after a transformed David gets loose and starts killing again. Landis has a knack for filming total chaos (the car chase in Blues Brothers, the parade scene in Animal House), and everything that happens is a reasonable reaction to watching a ferocious mythical beast leap out of a porno theater and murder a policeman:
The end of the film is abrupt and closes out the story completely. There's no post-script exposition, and no point in trying to tie up something unimportant. Once the werewolf is destroyed, the story's over. This was greatly refreshing following the previous day's viewing of the bloated and over-written Bone Tomahawk.
Summary:
I'm going to follow Landis' lead and end this review suddenly. If you've never seen An American Werewolf in London (or if it's been a long time), it should absolutely go to the top of your Spooktober list. It's funny, it's gruesome, and it's the birthplace of several modern horror tropes. I'm not going to pretend that it transcends the genre or explores some deep dark truth, but it's a perfect movie for October, and that's really all that matters.
Get watching!
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