The Wolfman (Benicio del Toro) wants his mommy.
Fatherhood of the wolf
By Don Simpson
In 1935, during the golden age of Universal Pictures’ infamous monster movies, Werewolf of London was released starring Henry Hull. Written by John Cotton and directed by Stuart Walker, this was the first Hollywood movie featuring an anthropomorphic werewolf. Unfortunately, for Universal it was a box office failure. That did not deter Universal Pictures from giving the werewolf story a reboot in 1941 when they released The Wolf Man, a monster movie starring Lon Chaney Jr. (following in his senior’s footsteps as a Universal monster), written by Curt Siodmak and produced and directed by George Waggner. By all accounts, The Wolf Man was a hit.
Universal Pictures is rekindling their classic werewolf story once more, using Siodmak’s The Wolf Man script as a rough guideline. The 2010 edition features a change in the spelling of the title to The Wolfman; the characters’ names remain the same, but their roles are much different.
Lawrence Talbot (Benicio del Toro) returns to his ancestral home after receiving notice from his brother's (Simon Merrells) fiancée, Gwen (Emily Blunt), that his brother has mysteriously gone missing. By the time Lawrence arrives home, his brother’s corpse has already been found, thoroughly mangled and torn apart as if ravaged by a rabid beast.
In a slight slice of back story, we learn that Lawrence left home at a ripe young age after discovering his dead mother (Cristina Contes) covered in blood while being held in the arms of his suspicious father (Anthony Hopkins). Lawrence has not spoken to his father ever since, presumably because he continues to blame his father for his mother’s mysterious death (lending itself to a tiring and ho-hum Oedipal subtext).
Lawrence finds a mysterious medallion with Ben's belongings and discovers that it came from a nearby gypsy camp. He travels to the gypsy camp on the night of a full moon and meets with a fortuneteller named Maleva (Geraldine Chaplin) who warns Lawrence of a great danger. Suddenly, a werewolf appears at the gypsy camp. Lawrence is bitten by the werewolf and we all know what that means (besides always listen to gypsy fortunetellers)…Entrails are eaten! Arms are ripped loose! And decapitations are aplenty!!!
Lon Chaney Jr. brought a certain sympathetic sweetness and emotional depth to the role of the ill-fated Lawrence in the 1941 version; the mumbling del Toro is baggy-eyed and weathered even before becoming a werewolf, once he is bitten he acts no differently and appears no more (or less) brooding and haggard. It is even less convincing that del Toro’s Lawrence has abandoned a starring Broadway role as Hamlet (this Lawrence is by no means a Broadway actor) in order to return to England. However, this backstory does provide a lame excuse for del Toro’s blatant lack of a British accent (he speaks like a New Yorker). That is not to say that del Toro does not make a great werewolf, because he does; it just would have helped if he played his pre-werewolf scenes straighter and cleaner. (A better script would have aided del Toro as well.)
Hopkins’ performance as Lawrence’s father is overstated and hammy; but unfortunately his character is lacking in both depth and purpose. Sure, the moonlight reveals a sparkle in his eyes; but otherwise his only true emotions are revealed while expressing the grudge he holds against his son. If anything, Hopkins’ is the truest in performance to the campy nature of the Universal monster movies of the 1930s and 1940s.
Gwen is a mixed-up girl with a demented penchant for wandering around in the fog during full moons and seems to believe that she alone can cure lycanthropy (the question of how she plans to do so remains a complete mystery). The sole purpose for Gwen’s existense in this script is to ignite the already firey tension between father and son by closely resembling’s the deceased wife/mother (thus perpetuating the Oedipal subtext as Lawrence falls hopelessly in love with her).
Director Joe Johnson’s The Wolfman is the antithesis to the recent influx of vampire movies and television series. Rather than utilizing youth and sex appeal to propel this all the way to blockbusterdom (imagine the box office sales if Johnson had cast Taylor
In 1935, during the golden age of Universal Pictures’ infamous monster movies, Werewolf of London was released starring Henry Hull. Written by John Cotton and directed by Stuart Walker, this was the first Hollywood movie featuring an anthropomorphic werewolf. Unfortunately, for Universal it was a box office failure. That did not deter Universal Pictures from giving the werewolf story a reboot in 1941 when they released The Wolf Man, a monster movie starring Lon Chaney Jr. (following in his senior’s footsteps as a Universal monster), written by Curt Siodmak and produced and directed by George Waggner. By all accounts, The Wolf Man was a hit.
Universal Pictures is rekindling their classic werewolf story once more, using Siodmak’s The Wolf Man script as a rough guideline. The 2010 edition features a change in the spelling of the title to The Wolfman; the characters’ names remain the same, but their roles are much different.
Lawrence Talbot (Benicio del Toro) returns to his ancestral home after receiving notice from his brother's (Simon Merrells) fiancée, Gwen (Emily Blunt), that his brother has mysteriously gone missing. By the time Lawrence arrives home, his brother’s corpse has already been found, thoroughly mangled and torn apart as if ravaged by a rabid beast.
In a slight slice of back story, we learn that Lawrence left home at a ripe young age after discovering his dead mother (Cristina Contes) covered in blood while being held in the arms of his suspicious father (Anthony Hopkins). Lawrence has not spoken to his father ever since, presumably because he continues to blame his father for his mother’s mysterious death (lending itself to a tiring and ho-hum Oedipal subtext).
Lawrence finds a mysterious medallion with Ben's belongings and discovers that it came from a nearby gypsy camp. He travels to the gypsy camp on the night of a full moon and meets with a fortuneteller named Maleva (Geraldine Chaplin) who warns Lawrence of a great danger. Suddenly, a werewolf appears at the gypsy camp. Lawrence is bitten by the werewolf and we all know what that means (besides always listen to gypsy fortunetellers)…Entrails are eaten! Arms are ripped loose! And decapitations are aplenty!!!
Lon Chaney Jr. brought a certain sympathetic sweetness and emotional depth to the role of the ill-fated Lawrence in the 1941 version; the mumbling del Toro is baggy-eyed and weathered even before becoming a werewolf, once he is bitten he acts no differently and appears no more (or less) brooding and haggard. It is even less convincing that del Toro’s Lawrence has abandoned a starring Broadway role as Hamlet (this Lawrence is by no means a Broadway actor) in order to return to England. However, this backstory does provide a lame excuse for del Toro’s blatant lack of a British accent (he speaks like a New Yorker). That is not to say that del Toro does not make a great werewolf, because he does; it just would have helped if he played his pre-werewolf scenes straighter and cleaner. (A better script would have aided del Toro as well.)
Hopkins’ performance as Lawrence’s father is overstated and hammy; but unfortunately his character is lacking in both depth and purpose. Sure, the moonlight reveals a sparkle in his eyes; but otherwise his only true emotions are revealed while expressing the grudge he holds against his son. If anything, Hopkins’ is the truest in performance to the campy nature of the Universal monster movies of the 1930s and 1940s.
Gwen is a mixed-up girl with a demented penchant for wandering around in the fog during full moons and seems to believe that she alone can cure lycanthropy (the question of how she plans to do so remains a complete mystery). The sole purpose for Gwen’s existense in this script is to ignite the already firey tension between father and son by closely resembling’s the deceased wife/mother (thus perpetuating the Oedipal subtext as Lawrence falls hopelessly in love with her).
Director Joe Johnson’s The Wolfman is the antithesis to the recent influx of vampire movies and television series. Rather than utilizing youth and sex appeal to propel this all the way to blockbusterdom (imagine the box office sales if Johnson had cast Taylor
Lautner as Lawrence), Johnson drained every ounce of sexiness from his aged male leads. Blunt is the only actor able to retain some resemblence of her inate youthfulness and sex appeal.
Other than the Oedipal subtext (which in itself seems overly forced and lacks purpose), The Wolfman – unlike its 1935 and 1941 predecessors – bears no symbolism or meaning, and features very little plot. The visual effects are fun bordering on kitschy and the all-star cast tries their best to save this film, but my keen wolf senses tell me that The Wolfman will suffer the same box office fate as Werewolf of London.
Other than the Oedipal subtext (which in itself seems overly forced and lacks purpose), The Wolfman – unlike its 1935 and 1941 predecessors – bears no symbolism or meaning, and features very little plot. The visual effects are fun bordering on kitschy and the all-star cast tries their best to save this film, but my keen wolf senses tell me that The Wolfman will suffer the same box office fate as Werewolf of London.
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