‘Werewolves Within’ Review: Claws Out in this Misfiring Horror Whodunnit
A Topical Cross-Genre Monster Flick that Loses its Way in the Comedy Department.
Source: IFC Films.
Based on the video game of the same name, “Werewolves Within” finds director Josh Ruben trying his best to mash together a horror whodunnit satire. Much like the social commentary of Rian Johnson’s “Knives Out” or the many versions of the “Murder on the Orient Express,” Werewolves pits a diverse group against each other, consisting of conflicting social classes and political views. While it showcases bloody thrills and zany visuals, its snappy comedic dialogue becomes increasingly repetitive and its obsession with genre-blending may leave one yearning for more from this talented cast.
“Listening is where love begins. Listening to ourselves and then to our neighbors.” With this opening quote from Fred Rogers, Werewolves indicates that communication skills will be key if this group are to survive the night. We are first introduced to our protagonist, Finn (Sam Richardson). An awkward forest ranger, Finn is labelled the typical Mr. Nice Guy. On arrival into Beaverfield, he quickly meets the other players via the small town’s postal worker-turned-tour guide, Cecily (Milana Vayntrub). The two together bounce off each other, performing the talking-over-each-other screwball dialogue that is quite entertaining at first. The quick-firing “you speak I speak”, or more accurately “you interrupt me and I’ll interrupt you”, make for an intriguing first quarter, and actually allows for some great chemistry between Richardson and Vayntrub.
Sam Richardson as Finn in Werewolves Within.
It is clear from Finn’s quick excursion around the town that social and political tensions are being heightened by a proposed corporate gas pipeline. Everything begins to fall into place when a destroyed generator and a dangerous snowstorm trap the various inhabitants in the local inn. Here we get to meet the cliché characters pitted against each other: the loud redneck couple that enjoy guns and drive around in a pumped-up pickup truck (George Basil and Sarah Burns) clashing with the carb-free, middle-class gay couple that are supplied with a generic fussy persona (Cheyanne Jackson and Harvey Guillen). And to add to it all, why not throw in a hysterical innkeeper (Catherine Curtin), an introverted environmentalist doctor (Rebecca Henderson), and an aging scotch drinker involved with the pipeline saga (Wayne Duvall), who also claims he is the hunting expert.
The heavy-handed jokes are formed around the group figuring out who the werewolf might be, or as the characters confusingly inquire, “a lycanthrope?” Ruben plays on a sense of cynicism in the American political spectrum, probing into both left- and right-leaning sides to see how one would react to the situation. Its metaphor is seen more aptly when the group reveal what guns they are packing, and Ruben pokes fun at this obsession by referencing their phallic quality.
The script’s engagement with current affairs is poignant and punchy throughout, penned by Mishna Wolff, but its comedic execution is lacking; at times trying to cram in as many one-liners and sarcastic satirical comments as possible. Segments of the dialogue end up becoming so monotonous in rhythm that one may miss some of the more well-delivered lines.
Its use of visual comedy may remind some of the perfectly timed camera work, character synchronization, sound effects, and transitions so often used by Edgar Wright. Ruben’s camera, however, doesn’t carry the same flair. Some visual puns are left on the screen so long that they just appear awkward – take the example of Duvall’s character pouring whiskey into his coffee early in the morning to drown out the panicked commotion in the background; a shot that just seems to continue after the joke has finished.
Cheyanne Jackson and Harvey Guillen in Werewolves Within.
Werewolves is not just a comedy, and when it’s trying less to deliver the perfect line, it actually creates a tension-filled environment. One of its great successes is its Hitchcockian anticipation over showing. Ruben avoids the typical pitfalls of the horror genre that reveals its monster and then loses its suspense. Instead, Ruben seems to know that the damage caused by the werewolf is scarier than seeing it, holding off on the unveiling until the finale. Much like the characters, one begins to agree that the werewolf was just a hoax all along to turn everyone against each other.
This may be the most insightful part of Ruben’s film, building his own sort of fake news monster that creates a political falsehood between the group in order for corporate America to sinisterly push through its pipeline plans. Even Michael Chernus’ sleazy character Pete exclaims “maybe we’re all werewolves,” symbolizing that the monster is also a psychological manifestation of the group’s deep-rooted mistrust for each other. When we do finally get a look at the werewolf, though, it will certainly disappoint fans of “Dog Soldiers” and “An American Werewolf in London.”
“Werewolves” is a film that will either blindly satisfy or frustrate. Its political message is clear, reflecting on the dynamics of unproven accusations, fake news, and cancel culture, but the dialogue struggles to keep up. Instead, the relentless verbal battles drown out its more insightful observations of recent events. The film’s final act has some entertaining and bloody action-filled sequences that make up for the first two-thirds of comedic misdirection, but its more satisfying element is the construction of the werewolf mystique. The cryptic lines delivered by Henderson’s doctor, the historical artwork found in the inn that foreshadows its form, and the gory aftermath of its attack all display Ruben’s ability to find an atmosphere of uncertainty that adds to the film’s message.
Returning to Fred Rogers’ quote, “Werewolves” is about neighbors; ones we can trust and others that are ready to double-cross us in the name of survival. The vicious allegorical image of the werewolf allows Ruben to probe into the social and political distrust that remains in the post-Trump era, but its inability to tighten up the tried-and-tested horror-comedy genre with various gags that fizzle out may ultimately irritate some.
Grade: [C+]