Drive-In Dust Offs: AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON

The Werewolf film. A staple of the horror genre since Lon Chaney, Jr. got all out of sorts in The Wolf Man (1941), it’s popularity (like the moon itself) , has come and gone in cycles. Leading the pack in 1981, An American Werewolf in London showed the world that there was life in those old lycanthropes yet.

Released in August, An American Werewolf in London earned over 30 million in North America alone. It was a hit, and the reviews were generally favorable, especially in regards to the groundbreaking effects work by Rick Baker (he would go on to win the inaugural Academy Award for Outstanding Achievement in Makeup for this film – deservedly so).

Our tale goes like this: David (David Naughton - the Dr. Pepper guy from the TV commercials – ask your parents) and Jack (Griffin Dunne – After Hours), two Americans, are backpacking through the English countryside. They stop for a drink in a small village at a pub called The Slaughtered Lamb. Greeted with trepidation at first, and then hostility when they ask about their choice in the pub’s décor (pentangles – spiffy!), the boys are told to hit the road (and stay on it). Knowing that they’ve literally sent them out to be slaughtered by the local werewolf, the villagers arrive on the moors, defending David from an attack, but too late to help Jack, who is quite dead.

While David recuperates in a London hospital, tended to by the sympathetic Dr. Hirsch (John Woodvine – Coronation Street) and Nurse Alex (Jenny Agutter – Logan’s Run, Child’s Play 2), he has horrible dreams; some inexplicable, some portending the nastiness to ensue. As well, he is visited by a decomposing (and still very dead) Jack, who gives him the full moon/werewolf warnings peppered throughout the film. When he’s released from the hospital, he is taken in by Alex, who, harboring a crush, continues to nurse him in ways that most HMO plans wouldn’t cover Stateside. Needless to say, when the full moon arrives, things get hairy in Old London Town.

Written by Landis in 1969, this was his dream project. A long time fan of the Universal bogeymen, he sat on it until the amazing success (and the clout that followed) of 1978’s Animal House and 1980’s The Blues Brothers allowed him to finally get it made. When he did, audiences were not only treated to his trademark humor, but were bombarded by a jarring sense of dread and terror that was completely unexpected, and most welcome.

AAWL has a lot going for it that puts it firmly in classic territory (were-itory?). Besides the good natured humor, the horror element really sets this one apart. David’s dream sequences in particular contain stunning images brilliantly staged. It would be great to see Landis tackle a straight up horror project; his tone is downright vicious and gratuitously shocking. He can play mean and seems to revel in it.

The cast excels. Naughton has a puppy dog charm that can’t be resisted; you will feel sorry for what he’s put through (except when he’s being cared for by Agutter – then you’ll just be jealous). Dunne has a blast playing the decomposing friend, stuck between worlds to warn David of his impending doom. Agutter portrays Alex with a sympathetic heart, and a welcoming bed. It’s a sly and oh so sexy performance. A special mention for the villagers, played by a cast of Brits who clearly have an affinity for Universal’s monster flicks; they keep it real, but with a wink and a nod, guv’nor.

The centerpiece of the film is David’s transformation scene. It was, and still is, a breathtaking sequence. Gone was the lap dissolve photography of The Wolf Man; Rick Baker decided to put everything on the screen, and it is glorious. Landis films the sequence, from head to toe, with an obvious relish in putting David through the wringer. It is a transcendent piece of filmmaking. To list Baker’s accomplishments would be a column all by it’s lonesome; lets just say if you’ve watched everything from The Exorcist to Star Wars to Harry and the Hendersons to The Nutty Professor (and beyond) you’ve marveled at his work. A true legend.

An American Werewolf in London will live on in horror history for its mix of genuine horror, innovative makeup effects, a dose of the trademark Landis chuckles, and a love of the monolithic movie monsters of yesterday. To quote the Credence Clearwater Revival song used in the film, ‘There‘s a bad moon on the rise’. Indeed. May it shine bright, evermore.

An American Werewolf in London is available from Universal on Blu-ray.