All this technology yet we've lost our senses

Before he became the world’s most high-profile self-proclaimed alien abductee, Whitley Strieber was well on his way to becoming a contender for the 㦼’s horror king” title that Stephen King would eventually take. Sure, he dabbled in familiar territory like vampirism and lycanthropy, but he at least tried to throw some kind of twist to overused material. His vampire novel, The Hunger, was a truly bizarre contribution to the canon of bloodsucker literature, and the movie made for it featured not only Bauhaus AND David Bowie, but also a naked Catherine Deneuve. Can I hear a great big “aw yeah!” from the congregation? Thank you- you’re free to speak in tongues amongst yourselves.

The movie made for Strieber’s Wolfen was, along with Poltergeist, Ghost Story, and Cat People, one of the many cool movies that I got to see as a kid, thanks to the presence of HBO in our house. It is also commonly cited as one of the three big werewolf movies of the early 1980’s (the other two being The Howling and An American Werewolf In London), although that description is a tad misleading. Strictly speaking, and I hope I’m not ruining the surprise for anyone with this (but if I am, you’ve had almost thirty dang years to check it out, so quit yer bitchin’), Wolfen isn’t really a “werewolf movie”, though it does revolve around the relationship between wolf and man.

It’s also a curious movie in that it doesn’t take place on some English moor or in a dark Alpine forest. Wolfen is set in modern day NYC (well, sort of modern day- the frequent sight of the Twin Towers betrays its age), where a wealthy industrialist/land developer, his trophy wife, and their Haitian chauffeur get munched apart in a city park. Albert Finney, sporting a seriously unkempt hair-do and playing the role of a cop named Dewey Wilson, has to track down the murderer, who’s initially believed to be part of some terrorist organization. However, as Dewey digs deeper (and with the begrudgingly-given assistance of some Native Americans), he finds that there’s something far more ancient, sinister, and primal at work than a bunch of eco-terrorists.

The movie is primarily remembered nowadays as one of the first (if not the first) to utilize the infrared-thermographic-whatever-it’s-called camerawork that’d later pop up in Predator. Director Michael Wadleigh uses this technique so the audience can see things through the eyes of the Wolfen, and it does give the film a different sorta feel (how’s that for vague?). It’s also notable as one of Gregory Hines’ first films, though he acts like kind of a dork throughout much of it. I didn’t really need to see his ass as he’s mooning Dewey and yelling “black moon over Manhattan!”

The real star of the film, if you ask me, is the scenery. Filmed in the south Bronx back when the area looked like the by-product of a carpet bombing, Wolfen boasts one of the most desolate locations I’ve ever seen in a horror movie. The gutted church, the demolished lots bereft of anything but rubble- what a place. There are also lots of cool shots of other parts of NYC, including the Brooklyn Bridge and Battery Park. In fact, Dewey even gets to climb the bridge so that he can talk to Eddie Holt, a Native American radical played with flair by a very young looking (and at one point, a very nude) Edward James Olmos. Indian wolf-gods I could probably deal with, but count me out on the bridge climbing.

There are a few flaws with Wolfen, mostly in the pacing, ending, and acting departments. Things take a little long to get moving, and wind up in a way that feels forced, hurried, and implausible. Finney practically steals his paycheck by doing very little throughout the duration of the film. He’s also not very pleasant to look at, although the same cannot be said of Diane Venora, who plays a criminal psychologist assisting Dewey and fits the description of a “humble hottie”. Fortunately, the sex scene between them is mostly seen through the eyes of a Wolfen, so we’re saved the unpleasantness of having to watch Finney make out with a woman young enough to be his daughter and fifty times sexier than his character deserves.

All said, I’m still fond of Wolfen. I’ve been reading a lot lately about Native American witchcraft, specifically the werewolf-type character called the “skinwalker”, so this movie called to be taken off the shelf. There’s an interesting concept at work here (namely, the idea that there are beings out there, other than Crips and Bloods, that might be preying on us from the underbelly of our own urban areas), and Wadleigh did a decent job of making his point. The suspense has deteriorated a little due to the datedness and number of times I’ve watched it, but Wolfen still ranks up there as one of my favorite early 80’s horror flicks.


An American Werewolf In London http://www.epinions.com/content_161779060356