Review of An American Werewolf in London (1981) by Davey M — 05 Oct 2010

There are some moments where things really come together--a marvelous transformation scene, a couple comedic bits, some frightening dream images, some of the attacks (especially the one in the tube), the haunting and vaguely funny shot of a skeletal Griffin Dunne waiting outside a porn theater, and the final, droll, cynical, tongue-in-cheek image that recalls St. Sebastian.

But then there's the rest of the movie, which is mostly not very good. When the energy from the synthesis that occurs in those few, sublime moments is gone, what you're left with is a lot of acting and dialogue that feels sitcom-ey rather than funny or believable, and montages that do nothing to advance plot or character or anything, apparently only existing to demonstrate that John Landis knows there are some very famous pop standards with "moon" in the title (Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," however, is notably absent, perhaps too recent a tune to fit in with the nostalgia of "Blue Moon," "Moondance," and "Bad Moon on the Rise," the latter of which gets perhaps the worst montage in film history, in which David Naughton does literally nothing for two or three minutes, walking around the apartment, checking the fridge repeatedly only to remark that he is "not hungry" and, later, "STILL not hungry"... oh man, that montage is good).

It's become something of a staple in the genre, and it's certainly got its worthwhile bits, but it feels like Landis had a fun premise and a couple cool ideas for some scenes and then he filled in the rest of the screenplay on autopilot. If this is the best werewolf movie (and "The Howling" isn't any better), then someone needs to make a good werewolf movie.