If you’re of a certain age, this is probably one of the first
horror movies you ever saw. And if, like me, it was one of the first horror
films you ever saw, can you honestly say that anything since has even
come close to the pant-soiling experience that was the first time you
saw it? Be honest…
This reviewer is of the view that enduring such a high watermark in the
genre as an introduction to the world of scary movies actually had a detrimental
effect. I’m more of a genteel chills kind of guy, really (Dead
Of Night, Three Cases Of Murder…
you know the score) and I can always find those kind of films quite unnerving,
but in the 20-odd years since John Landis “really scared me”
(the shit head), I can honestly say that none of the hundreds of jumpy
gore-fests I’ve sat through has ever really worked. American
Werewolf has had many imitators, but it has never been bettered.
When you actually analyse the film, there’s not a huge amount of
plot going on - man gets attacked by werewolf, man becomes werewolf, man
kills lots of people, man gets shot. But as with many true classics, it’s
the little things that count. For one thing, American Werewolf
isn’t just scary, it’s bloody funny and hugely quotable as
well.
And that classy, cultish feel oozes from pretty much every scene, even
what could have been a simple, throwaway scene-setter in a British pub
at the beginning. Many British pubs are still like that – deeply
unfriendly, dingy places (although probably minus the pentangle scrawled
on the wall). But what most people do is ignore such oddities, keep their
heads down and sup their pint. Not the two young American tourists we’ve
followed in there, though – they are determined to find out why
a pentangle (the “sign of the wolf man”, according to Lon
Chaney Jr) is being used as a focal point, and with a cry of “remember
the Alamo!”, Jack (Griffin Dunne) and David (David Naughton), our
two heroes, descend into a maelstrom of out-and-out terror from which
neither is destined to escape.
Kicked out by the suddenly-angry locals onto the moors (“Its-a cold
and-a wet out here!”) with only a meagre piece of frankly obvious
advice, our two bumbling Yanks begin to realise that they’ve messed
up big style: “Keep to the road... ah.”
And then the horror starts. You feel their terror as they realise they
are being stalked through the darkness by something huge and unseen, and
with a sudden jolt the viewer is assailed with two truly revolting deaths.
Jack is quite literally ripped apart by his unseen assailant, and seconds
later his killer doesn’t fare much better, shot to pieces by the
suddenly conscience-stricken locals and collapsing naked and steaming,
great gouts of blood pouring from his flabby white body.
By this point your loud guffaws have turned into stunned amazement. And
just in case these mixed emotions hadn’t frazzled your brain too
much, once David wakes up in hospital, in walks Jenny Agutter. In a nurses
uniform.
And then you get those bad dreams as David drifts in and out of consciousness
– he sees himself running through the forest, killing small animals
with gay abandon before coming across himself lying in bed, being looked
after by Nurse Alex (Agutter). Without any warning, his face turns into
that of a blue-skinned, yellow-eyed monster with huge, pointy teeth.
Have the dreams stopped? Is the film nearly over? It must be, because
David’s arrived home in America, completely cured. Phew, for a minute
there we thought something horrible was going to happen! What’s
that, a knock at the door? Oh, bloody hell. Nazi zombies, armed with family-shredding
machine guns and throat-slicing machetes.
Well, that must be an end of it. David’s awake, and here comes nurse
Jenny to open the curtains… Ah. He’s still dreaming. Eek.
“Holy shit” indeed.
So, now the audience are all totally wrong-footed and utterly terrified.
Surely things can’t get any worse? Well, for one thing we’re
all wondering what happened to Jack after he was slashed to ribbons on
the moors. Oh look, here he is, asking for a piece of toast, and looking
frankly revolting.
David’s reply as he checks out his zombie friend, “I can’t
take this,” must have been pretty close to what everyone in the
cinema was thinking back in 83, and you can’t really blame them.
Every time you think the film’s going to stop shocking you, Landis
bungs in another jolt.
Just to digress slightly, the “late 70s England” touches are
excellent – and let’s face it, the nostalgia of a bygone age
is often one of nice little extras people can take from these films. There
are only three channels on the telly, David’s doctor, Doctor Hirsch
(John Woodvine) drives a rubber bumper MGB GT, and the London Underground
is full of punks. There’s also a wonderful specially-created advert
for the News Of The World at one point: “The Naked Truth About Naughty
Nina”.
Getting back to the horror, it’s now time for the fantastic change
scene, and it is still fantastic, all these years later - transformation
has never looked so painful, and the astonishing thing is that it’s
all done in broad daylight, with no “cutaways” or jiggery-pokery.
These days werewolf transformations in children’s films are ten-a-penny
– Van Helsing, Harry Potter, Underworld.
But the changes in those films are pathetic, computer-generated cartoons
devoid of real horror or nastiness – a means to an end (in other
words, to have a pathetic, computer-generated cartoon of a wolfman jumping
around and not convincing anyone). Because what is happening to David
is happening in front of you, and is all solidly real, you can feel the
bones knitting together, the skin stretching – the agony that such
a transformation, if it were to happen, would create. Is it really any
wonder that werewolves tend to be a bit grumpy?
As wolf about town, David hacks to pieces some cheerful yuppies, assorted
tramps and a humourless bloke in the Underground (prompting a thousand
refusals to set foot on the escalators during days out in the capital)
before waking up in the zoo none the wiser.
After stealing some clothes to get home (yet another necessity which seems
to escape the modern film makers – the werewolf in Van Helsing
appears to be wearing a pair of amazing reappearing trousers) David is
told about the night’s hi-jinks by his taxi driver: “‘E
must be a real right maniac, this feller” (there’s a Cockernee
understatement, if ever I heard one, guv’nor).
It’s not long before an increasingly revolting-looking zombie Jack
has filled David in on exactly what is happening – he’s a
werewolf, and while he lives all his victims are doomed to walk the earth
as the undead. David finally believes what is going on, which leads to
a wonderful exchange with a befuddled police officer in Trafalgar Square
as David tries to get arrested: “Queen Elizabeth’s a man!
Prince Charles is a faggot! Winston Churchill was full of shit! Shakespeare
was French!”
This doesn’t work (“if you carry on like that sir, I shall
have to arrest you!” / “That’s what I want you to do,
you asshole!”) and zombie Jack ends up luring frantic David into
a Leicester Square porn cinema, which is showing the awesome “See
You Next Wednesday”, a top-notch, specially shot boobathon
which has the most priceless dialogue in the whole film (of course, sex
films and horror were bedfellows throughout the 70s - see Norman J Warren’s
Terror for more busty “film within a
film” antics).
And so the film races towards its uncompromising ending, with a fantastic
conversation between David and his undead victims (“Can’t
say we’re very pleased to meet you, Mr Kessler”), a hugely
entertaining and bone-crunchingly gratuitous Leicester Square massacre
as the werewolf runs amok for the last time, and an astonishing downbeat
ending as Landis shows that true love can’t save a werewolf after
all.
If you haven’t seen American Werewolf for ages, it’s
worth searching out. If you haven’t seen it at all, you
must, as it’s quite possibly the greatest horror film ever
made. And for all the right reasons. Bloody hell - it’s still as
scary as it was 20 years ago. How many other films can say that?
Director: John Landis Writer(s): John Landis Cast:
David Naughton - David Kessler, Jenny Agutter - Nurse Alex Price,
Griffin Dunne - Jack Goodman, Don McKillop - Inspector Villiers, Paul
Kember - Sergeant McManus, John Woodvine - Dr. Hirsch, Joe Belcher
- Truck Driver, David Schofield - Dart Player, Brian Glover - Chess
Player, Lila Kaye - Barmaid, Rik Mayall - 2nd Chess Player, Sean Baker
- 2nd Dart Player, Paddy Ryan - First Werewolf, Anne-Marie Davies
- Nurse Gallagher, Frank Oz - Mr. Collins/Miss Piggy
Sounds
Not only is American Werewolf one of the best horror films ever
made, but it contains some sparkling dialogue, which actually stands up
well on its own. Sample some typically British pub talk, a particularly
nasty death, a fantastic old News Of The World TV advert, Oscar
nominated "art film" See You Next Wednesday, and more...
