Having missed a recent screening of John Landis’ horror comedy An American Werewolf In London at my local cinema I thought it time I give it another watch as it’s been a long time, particularly considering my recent rewatch of the classic Universal Wolfman from the 1940s.
While the werewolf is a staple member of the monster movie canon it has, for me, always felt very much in a lower tier beneath Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster and The Mummy, and filmic versions of the character have often lacked something compared to the other horror icons.
From the start here this feels like something different though.
Opening with a pair of American students, David (David Naughton) and Jack (Griffin Dunne), hiking across the Yorkshire Moors, they are instantly likeable and funny, while a sense of mystery also creeps in as they are told, rather ominously, to stick to the roads.
They soon reach a pub, The Slaughtered Lamb, in a tiny village and receive one of the most iconically cold welcomes in cinema history (with Brian Glover being oddly threatening as only he can and Rik Mayal standing out like a sore thumb) so set off again into the night and, well, you can probably guess what comes next.
This opening sequence is expertly executed by Landis and his team, at once evoking the classic Universal Wolfman films and bringing them up to date, while also injecting a strong dose of highly effective comedy (which would go on to spawn a slew of horror comedies across the following decade, with varying levels of success).
It’s after this though that things really pick up as with catch up with David in hospital in London and, again, you can probably guess the basics of where this goes.
In this regard make up effects man Rick Baker becomes one of the stars of the movie without ever having to appear on screen as his design for the werewolf transformation sequence is astonishing and, even today, still shocks in not just its realism but it’s visceral nature as limbs extend, teeth become fangs and, most impressively, a face stretches into a snout before our very eyes (and all long before the days of CGI).
It’s not just the werewolf that impresses though as Baker also contributes what I can only describe as ‘Nazi demons’ and truly icky, drippy, undead victims of the monster which, combined with the brilliant script and Landis’ use of them, elevates them even further.
It’s not just the make up effects that make this film work though, throughout the thread of comedy is terrific, often poking fun at authority figures in one way or another or subverting horror clichés (though without sending them up or spoofing them), and the performances come with a sense of seriousness that makes both the horror and comedy work.
Along with this we get a much more developed and well executed look into the mind of the werewolf with some brilliantly abstract and fascinatingly shot dream sequences, with some moments I can’t help but think inspired Sam Raimi in The Evil Dead.
While Naughton is great as the increasingly crazed David it is really Jenny Agutter as nurse and love interest Alex Price who steals the film in terms of performance.
Across the film she manages to feel absolutely real, while also having a charm and wit, and later fear and desperation, that carry the emotional weight of the movie without undercutting the humour and, occasional, ridiculousness.
With a climactic sequence that puts all of this into practice at once, and has far more collateral damage in central London than I recalled, the only real thing that lets down the film is when we see the werewolf in full and well lit, but thankfully Landis is clever enough to keep these moments to a minimum.
An American Werewolf In London remains a triumph, and a high point of werewolf movies, continuing a great run of films for Landis, as it was preceded by both National Lampoon’s Animal House and The Blues Brothers, while paving the way for his work on Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and its made me wish I could visit London in the late 1970s or early 80s as, here at least, it seems more honestly grimy and interesting than it is today – though hopefully not home to any actual werewolves.
Tommy Girard 