(R for ongoing violence, bloody horror, gore): The English countryside near Blackmoor, 1891 - eerily haunting at night, with a horrible superstition prevaing, about a ghastly beast ravaging the area. Enter Lawrence Talbutt (Benicio Del Toro), fresh from America to Talbutt Hall when he learns that his brother has been torn apart by - what? - the beast? Enter father, Sir John (Anthony Hopkins), who has been living in cobwebbed Hall ever since his wife apparently died at her own hand some years ago. Also enter Gwen Conliffe (Emily Blunt), the dead brother's gorgeous fiancée with eyes now set on Lawrence. And, finally, enter a Scotland Yard inspector, who suspects dirty work when he finds that something with super-human strength has been doing the ravishing - always during a full moon. Hmmmm. Haven't we seen this film before?
Universal Studios first popularized horror films and has been since remaking them, over & over, with a formula plot that changes only as the tech effects change, thus making them ever more bloody, more realistically horrifying. But the plot remains approximately the same, including the gradual attraction of Gwen to Lawrence (and vice versa), the change in Lawrence as he turns into a werewolf, saying in his sane moments to Gwen, in a chivalric vow, "If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
Of course, he keeps his promise, but in the meantime, Gwen takes a crash course in lycanthropy - not that it helps any, because during other full moons, he continues to develop as you might expect - gnarled fingers, feet & features; a furry body that bursts out of his clothes; and a blood-thirsty cry of insane rage. He zips around, flying faster than the speed of a bullet (not silver; that comes later); and after all the usual dashes in mayhem & retreat - aw, gosh, to I have to continue? If you've seen it once.
After the first recognition of the formula plotline, and the repetitious sights of ripped up body parts & other gore up close, it becomes a matter of sitting apathetically through the 103-minutes of seen-that, done-that to the final denouement.
If there is any reason to sit through this film at all, it lies in Shelly Johnston's stylish mis-en-scene: the haunting, fog-shrouded forest & moors, the magnificent mansion décor, the costumes, the ivy-covered cottages - all gloriously filmed by cinematographer Bill Cararro, backed by Danny Elfman's blasting score that never ends, all overlayed with Steve Bragg's special effects. But this caveat: if you decide to go, wear ear plugs to avoid the ongoing stabs of sound, which, along with the continuously high-powered music, scream over the otherwise toned-down, almost inaudible, dialog. (Grade: D+)
Universal Studios first popularized horror films and has been since remaking them, over & over, with a formula plot that changes only as the tech effects change, thus making them ever more bloody, more realistically horrifying. But the plot remains approximately the same, including the gradual attraction of Gwen to Lawrence (and vice versa), the change in Lawrence as he turns into a werewolf, saying in his sane moments to Gwen, in a chivalric vow, "If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
Of course, he keeps his promise, but in the meantime, Gwen takes a crash course in lycanthropy - not that it helps any, because during other full moons, he continues to develop as you might expect - gnarled fingers, feet & features; a furry body that bursts out of his clothes; and a blood-thirsty cry of insane rage. He zips around, flying faster than the speed of a bullet (not silver; that comes later); and after all the usual dashes in mayhem & retreat - aw, gosh, to I have to continue? If you've seen it once.
After the first recognition of the formula plotline, and the repetitious sights of ripped up body parts & other gore up close, it becomes a matter of sitting apathetically through the 103-minutes of seen-that, done-that to the final denouement.
If there is any reason to sit through this film at all, it lies in Shelly Johnston's stylish mis-en-scene: the haunting, fog-shrouded forest & moors, the magnificent mansion décor, the costumes, the ivy-covered cottages - all gloriously filmed by cinematographer Bill Cararro, backed by Danny Elfman's blasting score that never ends, all overlayed with Steve Bragg's special effects. But this caveat: if you decide to go, wear ear plugs to avoid the ongoing stabs of sound, which, along with the continuously high-powered music, scream over the otherwise toned-down, almost inaudible, dialog. (Grade: D+)