Bad Moon Rising

An American Werewolf in London
(John Landis, 1981)

5 Stars

Yesterday, I received what could possibly be the worst cinematic news of the century so far; Dimension films have decided to remake John Landis’ classic masterpiece of horror, comedy and visual effects An American Werewolf in London.

Now, normally I take remakes with a pinch of salt. They are, especially in the horror genre for some reason, an inevitability, and for the most part come and go, often fading into even more unrecognisable oblivion than the usually little known original. In this case, however, a remake seems to me utterly redundant, like remaking Jurassic Park or Trainspotting. The subsequent film will have not a patch of the impact of its inspiration.

So why am I so frustrated by this one? Is it because American Werewolf is quite simply one of the greatest horror films of all time? Or is it because it’s one of the greatest FILMS of all time? Or is it simply because it’s my favourite film. Of all time. The answer to all of the above; a resounding “yes”.

Walking the thin line that separates horror and comedy with a self-deprecating air of nonchalance, Landis threw caution to the wind in 1981, a year when screens were tussling between The Howling and Wolfen for the werewolf of the year award, creating the utmost underdog of a winner.

From its opening sequence in which American tourists David Naughton and Griffin Dunne tumble off the back of a sheep truck, American Werewolf is cuttingly hilarious, and yet never once detracts from its ultimate goal; to scare the pants off the audience. And here is where it truly delivers; keeping the audience in complete suspense throughout, we are not even introduced to Rick Baker’s astonishingly realistic werewolf until over an hour into the film, at which point we have a transformation sequence that remains to this day the most realistic and indeed painful change that has ever been put onto celluloid. And what makes it so real? No CGI, no cuts, just some really bloody good make-up effects. As I mentioned in my Wolfman review last week, if a studio had the balls to leave the CGI alone for a while, perhaps they could learn a few things from this momentous two minute scene. Even thereafter, however, we rarely see the entire wolf until the film’s climax, thus inducing an ever-growing sense of foreboding and fear, most notably in the famous London Underground scene, in which an unfortunate victim is chased mercilessly through the tunnels of what is actually the abandoned station of Aldwych (used all too often as a movie set since its closure). It is not until our charge collapses onto a moving escalator that we see the wolf, albeit from about twenty meters above and for only half a second. None of this in-yer-face “look at my crappy CGI monster” malarkey that has infected our cinemas since.

The effects are not confined to the werewolf however, as is evident in the gradually decaying corpse of Jack Goodman (Dunne) who pops up with hilarious and yet ominous exposition every once in a while. Indeed, Baker’s special effects were so ground-breaking that they caused the Academy to create a new Oscar category, gaining American Werewolf the first Oscar for Astounding Achievement in Make-up.

But it’s not all about the effects, as any good director knows (although it would seem not these days…), and the cast of American Werewolf are one of the finest ensembles of generally unkowns that one could ask for. The studio originally called for Akroyd and Bellushi to take the roles of David and Jack, but Landis, quite rightly, refused outright. David Naughton is perfect as the cursed David, reacting to his plight in a real and believable way, whilst Griffin Dunne is enchanting as the deceased Jack, delivering some amazingly cutting one-liners from behind his impeccable make-up. Jenny Agutter (Walkabout, The Railway Children) meanwhile is absolutely beautiful as the lovely Nurse Alex Price, who finds herself inexplicably drawn to the hopeless David. Even the supporting cast are flawless, with Lila Kaye, David Schofield and Rik Mayal amongst many others creating the most wonderfully realistic rural village feel in the infamous Slaughtered Lamb pub.

To top off the great cast, awesome effects and cutting script, we also have a perfectly chosen soundtrack (mostly songs featuring the word “moon” in the title), including a sumptuously steamy sex scene set to Van Morrison’s “Moondance”, and one of the greatest movie endings of all time in which shots of a bullet-holed David and a weeping Price are cut short by the booming tones of The Marcels’ “Blue Moon”. Priceless.

I realise now that I’ve gone to some length for this one, almost doubling the average length of a Silver Screen Lining review… Can you see how much I’m against the remake now??