The Many Faces of Lon Chaney Jr.

The Wolfman's Got Nards!

Following the production of The Wolfman over the past couple of years here in the Vault has been quite the rollercoaster ride! Yet, through it all, I maintained my interest in the project, even if my enthusiasm waxed and waned with the news of each new melodramatic behind-the-scenes twist and turn. The anticipation inspired me to do a whole history of werewolf movies, not to mention to review the classic original.

And so, once the thing finally hit theaters last weekend, you know I had to proceed to my local cineplex (my horror Jedi Master dad in tow) and check it out for myself. And in the end, I can honestly say I'm glad I didn't let all the drama drive me away. Because I rather enjoyed the picture, and had quite a bit of fun with it.

Maybe it was the lowered expectations, I'm not sure. But in general, I couldn't help but feel that the slant of the consensus of reviews for this movie toward the mediocre is a but unearned. Yes, it is a flawed film, and no, it will never replace the superior Universal original. Yet I may be too easygoing, but I think people have been a bit too hard on it.

Surely, it is a mixed bag. First and foremost amongst the weaknesses is Benicio Del Toro himself, surprisingly enough. Lon Chaney Jr. would never be confused with Sir John Geilgud, but nevertheless, his performance was rich with pathos and earnestness. Del Toro, usually excellent, seems to sleepwalk through his role. He never makes you really pity him, and seems like he has to continually remind himself to be upset.

Then there's the whole CGI dilemma. The transformation scenes are not as impressive as they should be--and in fact, I would say Rick Baker's practical work 30 years ago in American Werewolf in London is far more effective. For that matter, and some may disagree, but despite the rather quaint (by today's standards) transformation effects of the 1941 original, I found that the transformation scenes in the original carried more weight and were filled with more dread than the computerized mess we get here. The scenes are poorly shot, and don't really convey the horror of what's going on sufficiently.

Indeed, I don't know if this was because I knew a bit about the intrigue that went on getting this movie to the screen, but it felt a bit overly tampered with, as if the editing was somehow a bit uneven and off at times.

But despite these flaws, I found it to be pretty enjoyable. It possesses what a lot of horror in the early 21st century is missing: Fun.

Let me make this clear: I do not consider the original film to be an untouchable sacred cow. Although it's terrific, it's certainly inferior to most of the Universal films of the 1930s. This is partly why I took no issue with it being remade. And I found it very interesting what screenwriters Andrew Kevin Walker & David Self and director Joe Johnston tried to do here to distinguish it from its formidable forerunner.

What I quite enjoyed was that they tried to do something different, but in a way few remakes ever do. On the one hand, it doesn't slavishly ape the original; but it also doesn't piss all over the original's legacy. It manages to pay homage, yet take the story and characters in some fascinating directions. I'm going to get a bit spoilery in discussing these, so you squeamish types should head for the proverbial hills...

.........

As much as it bothered me when I first learned about it, having Sir John Talbot as the "original" werewolf--indeed transforming him into the heavy of the story--was pretty ingenious. I was a bit uncomfortable with Anthony Hopkins stepping into Claude Rains' shoes, not because he isn't a fine actor, but because in my opinion, he has a tendency toward scenery-chewing (see that other Universal re-imagining, Bram Stoker's Dracula) that is the total opposite of Rains' classy restraint. Rains also a brought a fatherly austerity that is lost amidst Hopkins' seedy characterization.

Nevertheless, as the movie went along, I came to embrace this. For it is the change in the Sir John character that eventually got me the most interested in the story. It changes the entire dynamic of the picture, specifically altering the father-son relationship completely. It also allows for a completely bad-ass werewolf vs. werewolf royal rumble at the climax that is a reminder of how much fun monster movies can be.

And make no mistake, this is a monster movie, first and foremost--and I say that as a compliment. Aside from the awkward CGI metamorphosis stuff, the actual practical makeup itself, done by the aforementioned maestro Baker--is spot-on, a fantastic updating/tribute to the iconic Jack Pierce design. I'm glad they decided to keep the character as a humanoid "wolf man" rather than make it a post-AWIL lupine werewolf. I'm all for bringing back clothes-wearing werewolves!

There are other very cool nods to the original here for those who are looking for them. The infamous wolf's head walking stick; the wolfsbane rhyme; Geraldine Chaplin filling Marya Ospenskaya's shoes as the gypsy fortune teller; that deliciously atmospheric chase scene in the woods, almost identically lit; a brief scene in Gwen's boutique; even a lingering closeup on Hopkins' face in mid-transformation that looks for all the world like a CGI version of Lon Chaney's time-lapse metamorphoses.

Aside from some shoddy editing, the film itself is shot quite nicely, with a cold and bleak look and feel provided by cinematographer Shelly Johnson and production designer Rick Heinrichs. The latter in particular was also responsible for Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, which might be a big part of why the look of this film was reminiscent at times of that underrated Burton delight.

Now let's talk violence. I may be getting squeamish in my old age, but this flick had a surprising amount of graphic gore, particularly for a slick, big-budget, mainstream horror production. Hell, this movie had stuff in it I would've liked to have seen from the last two George Romero movies, but didn't. There are slashings galore, dismembered and quivering limbs, impalements, eviscerations, and more. As I mentioned the other night in the Vaultcast, we see the Wolf Man actually pull out a guy's liver with his teeth. It's some pretty bold stuff for a Hollywood horror movie in 2010, that's for sure.

Joe Johnston was a replacement director, dumped into the project in mid-production after the ousting of Mark Romanek. Thanks to the internet, this all became public knowledge, and I think it unfairly biased many toward Johnston. A once-promising young genre director who made a splash early on with the likes of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and one of the most underrated summer movies of all time, The Rocketeer, he later sort of lost his way, stepping into Steven Speilberg's intimidated shoes for Jurassic Park III and mounting the 2004 bomb Hidalgo. Yet for my money, he does the best he could here with a project he inherited--and to tell you the truth, I'm not convinced that music video helmsman Romanek could've done all that better.

The Wolfman is an imperfect remake of a classic monster movie, that nevertheless provides some good popcorn-munching fun for those not looking for anything too earth-shattering. Less stylish and confident than Coppola's Dracula, loads more fun than Branagh's pretentious Frankenstein--and infinitely better than Sommer's Mummy.

The only thing that could've made it even more fun would've been if the climax had taken place here:

VAULT VLOG: Wolf Man Trailer Reaction

Retro Review: The Wolf Man

The unveiling of the admittedly impressive trailer for the remake of The Wolf Man today has put me in the mood to take another look at the classic Universal original, so that will be the topic of this week's Retro Review. A daunting task, to be sure, but I'm up to it.

Where to begin? A highly enjoyable and iconic horror film, The Wolf Man is nevertheless not quite of the caliber of its 1930s predecessors Dracula and Frankenstein. By 1941, Universal had already relegated its horror films to the B-unit, meaning that they were no longer given quite the same level of attention as they once had been. Nevertheless, The Wolf Man is most likely the finest Universal horror film produced during the entire decade of the 1940s.

Unlike Tod Browning and James Whale, the directors the other two aforementioned classic monster pictures, George Waggner, the man behind The Wolf Man, was more of a craftsman than an artist. An efficient and competent workhorse who had made a living directing B-horror and B-westerns after a failed career as a silent movie actor, Waggner would later settle into a long and comfortable career as a TV director during the 1950s and '60s.

It is not so much Waggner's touch that distinguishes this film as it is the men responsible for its unique and unforgettable look. Joseph A. Valentine, the man behind the camera, would truly make his mark with this movie, and it's no accident that he was soon picked up by Alfred Hitchcock, who made him cinematographer on such flicks as Saboteur, Shadow of a Doubt, and Rope. Art Director Jack Otterson was the man responsible for the look of films like Dressed to Kill and Arabian Nights, as well as Universal chestnuts like She-Wolf of London, The Mummy's Tomb, Invisible Agent and The Ghost of Frankenstein. Set decorator R.A. Gausman also worked on Spartacus, Touch of Evil, The Incredible Shrinking Man, This Island Earth and Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Together, these three very gifted individuals came up with a finished product which, for my money, makes The Wolf Man the memorable film it is. Just checking out the new trailer today, I can already see some telling homages to their work--including a redo of the famous expressionistic scene in which Gwen hides from the Wolf Man in the woods.

That's not to take anything away from the acting, because there are some very solid performances here. Although he would never be confused with his father, Lon Chaney Jr. is nevertheless suitably sympathetic as the guilt-ridden Larry Talbot, forced to bear the curse of the werewolf. This would be long before his hand-wringing routine would grow old and stale after repeated appearances in later sequels; here he is a figure of true pathos.

Claude Rains also brings a great deal of gravitas--as he always did--by now a mainstream celebrity returning to the genre that made him a star nearly a decade earlier with The Invisible Man. Bela Lugosi has one of his unforgettable cameos as the gypsy werewolf who passes on the curse to Talbot. And of course, there is the one and only Maria Ouspenskaya as the old gypsy woman who schools Larry in the lore of the lycanthrope. An early proponent of the Stanislavsky method and a drama coach for many years, Ouspenskaya steals every single scene she's in.

German expatriate Curt Siodmak provided the script, most noted for its legendary and oft-repeated "werewolf rhyme". Siodmak was a prolific author of mainly horror scripts, who had previously penned Vincent Price's The Invisible Man Returns, The Ape, and The Invisible Woman, and would go on to write Invisible Agent, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, Val Lewton's I Walked with a Zombie, Chaney's Son of Dracula, House of Frankenstein, The Beast with Five Fingers, Creature with the Atom Brain, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, and countless others. He practically invents the modern werewolf mythos here, and needless to say, the actors are in very capable hands.

And what can be said about Jack Pierce's landmark makeup that hasn't already been said? Although some may argue that he did a better job with Henry Hull's makeup years earlier in Werewolf of London, the fact remains that it's his Chaney makeup that is instantly recognizable to this day--and, in my opinion, his most frightening monster creation of them all. As a kid, no Universal monster freaked me out as much as the Wolf Man, and it was as much due to the animalistic abandon with which Chaney played the part as it was Pierce's demonic work.

The Wolf Man is a revered classic from the golden age of horror, and with good reason. It may not be the unassailable masterpiece that Frankenstein, and to a slightly lesser extent Dracula are--but it's still the mother of all werewolf movies, and one hell of an entertaining viewing experience.

Hump-Day Harangue: The Wolf Man Is Going to Suck. My Heart Is Breaking.

As many of you may know, I've been avidly following the Wolf Man remake almost since day one of The Vault of Horror. I held it up as my shining example of a "good remake", and anxiously awaited the Del Toro/Hopkins/Baker goodness to come... But... sigh... I believe it may be time to throw in the towel and give up hope. I'm callin' it.

Too soon, you say? Don't pre-judge, you admonish? Have you been following this thing as closely as I have?

First, there was the ominous debacle involving the walkout of original director Mark Romanek. It was ugly, regardless of how Universal tried to smooth it over. Folks, a director walking out is always a bad thing. On top of that, the main reason he supposedly walked was the limitations he perceived in the film's $100 million budget (yes, we're living in a world where a $100-million budget for a movie is pedestrian). News flash: the budget of the film as it currently stands is now $120 million and rising. Doh!

Worst of all is the reason why the movie has gone so far over-budget. That's right, it's that other thing you never want to hear: Re-shoots. Extensive ones. Expensive ones. Said re-shoots are rumored to be related to a lack of producer confidence in the creature as designed by Rick Baker. You know, those designs that had the entire internet abuzz with rampant ecstasy. Leave it to the stuffed shirts to screw things up.

You see, they were bothered by the humanoid wolf-man creature seen in the film--you know, the one that actually resembles the Lon Chaney original? Yeah, they wanted something more wolf-like, running around on all fours. Kind of like in An American Werewolf in London--aaaannd basically every werewolf movie made in the last 30 years... So the one thing that made the Wolf Man the Wolf Man... is now being rethought by spineless money men.

And there's one other item that has me crying in my Maker's Mark over this whole catastrophe. You've all heard that the movie has been bumped from November to February of next year, I'm sure. But do you know the reason why (other than the re-shoots)? Let me enlighten you. Universal is also releasing New Moon in November, two weeks after the original Wolf Man release date. And it looks like they were afraid a movie about a werewolf might cut into the profit of their pristine cash cow, which also features werewolves... As if we needed another reason to hate Twilight.

This thing has grade-A turkey written all over it, I'm afraid. And believe me, it pains me to say that. This is a grave I'm not dancing on, but rather hurling myself upon and screaming, like an Italian grandmother. I'm also sure that the good people over at Marvel can't be too jazzed, since Joe Johnston, the replacement director, is scheduled to do their Captain America movie next. At this point, we'll be lucky if it's better than that 1990 version with J.D. Salinger's son wearing fake ears...

"Rise of the Lycans": A History of Werewolf Movies, Part 3

After the heady days of the 1980s and the great horror movie boom, the 1990s, as most fans who lived through them know, scaled things back a bit. And yes, of course, werewolf films were affected by this, as well. The '80s had been a golden age for the subgenre, but now, it looked like the wind had once again left the sails of the lycanthrope.

Nevertheless, there would be some signs of life in the old dog--just not very promising signs. For example, the mid 1990s saw something of a mini-craze involving the old gothic horror monsters, thanks mainly to Francis Ford Coppola's 1992 film Bram Stoker's Dracula. Kenneth Branagh brought us Mary Shelley's Frankenstein not long after, and it would be in 1994 that the third of the Universal biggies would get a brief moment in the sun.

In this case, it would be the Mike Nichols-directed Wolf, starring none other than Jack Nicholson as the titular shapeshifter. Although the concept of Jack as a werewolf, as well as the fact that he'd be joined by fellow past Batman villain Michelle Pfeiffer, made this one look promising, it was an ultimately forgettable flop.

But Wolf would seem a masterpiece compared to what was attempted just three years later. What better way, you ask, to inject new life into the genre than by going back to its most successful entry? Well, anyone who may have thought that was dead wrong, as can be evidenced by the 1997 "sequel", An American Werewolf in Paris. Bearing little to no connection to the John Landis original, An American Werewolf in London, this mess is now remembered as one of the great horror missteps of the past 20 years.

With the 1990s mercifully over, the new century ushered in a more favorable climate for horror films. And just as the dearth of werewolf flicks was a reflection of the downturn in horror flicks in general, so this new boom in horror also brought about an influx of interesting and innovative movies on the subject of werewolfism.

The first of these, in 2000, would be Ginger Snaps, a fascinating film that draws an analogy between lycanthropy and puberty. Our main character is a teenage girl who is bitten by a werewolf, and must struggle with the murderous beast she is becoming. Her friends try their best to locate a cure for her condition, as she becomes more and more dangerous.

The fact that Ginger's initial victimization takes place on the same exact night she experiences her first period makes it abundantly clear that the filmmakers are using the tried-and-true werewolf warhorse to tell us a story of sexual awakening. It's an interesting attempt to do something different with a seemingly dead subgenre. Ginger Snaps would lead to a pair of 2004 sequels, Ginger Snaps Unleashes, and Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning.

The next major werewolf film of the new century would be the one most fans point to as the finest the subgenre has offered up since the aforementioned AWIL. Released in 2002, Neil Marshall's Dog Soldiers is also one of the most underrated horror films of the decade, period.

Grafting werewolf horror onto military adventure, Dog Soldiers puts a "Predator" spin on things, telling the story of a British Special Ops group battling mysterious monsters in the Scottish Highlands--monsters whose true nature they're unaware of until it's too late. This gem of an action horror flick would help put Marshall on the map, and lead to more high-profile projects such as The Descent and Doomsday.

Nevertheless, despite its high level of quality, Dog Soldiers went unseen by many fans, thanks to poor distribution. Rather, the film that would help return werewolves to the mainstream consciousness would instead be another horror action movie by the name of Underworld (2003).

Starring Kate Beckinsale as a vampire/vampire-hunter, Underworld presents us with a secret world in which bloodsuckers battle werewolves (here referred to as "lycans") for total domination. Though heavy on the CGI effects, the movie represented a return to the "monster vs. monster" vibe that had pitted vampires and werewolves against each other in the movies of decades gone by.

The premise was a big hit with fans, proving that people always love to see monsters fighting each other. In fact, Underworld would grow into a full-fledged franchise. The sequel, Underworld: Evolution, would be released three years later. And just this year, we got the third installment, a prequel that showed us the beginnings of the vampire/lycan war. Proving the staying power of the concept, this third movie didn't even feature Beckinsale, and still managed to be a decent success with audiences.

This would be in stark contrast to what should have been another triumphant return to old-school werewolfery--namely Van Helsing, Universal's lame 2004 attempt to reinvigorate its central horror characters. The film had all the markings of success, including Hugh Jackman in the title role, and director Stephen Sommers, the same man who had brought The Mummy back to life some five years earlier.

Featuring Dracula, the Frankenstein Monster, the Wolf Man and other classic creatures, Van Helsing was supposed to be a good old-fashioned monsterfest that would please both classic horror fans and newbies. Nevertheless, it was a colossal failure both critically and with audiences. Ironically, it would be the Underworld series that did a better job of returning werewolf mayhem to American prominence than the legendary Universal Studios itself, home of Lon Chaney Jr. and Henry Hull.

There's no question that films like Dog Soldiers and Underworld have kept modern audiences interested in the concept of the werewolf. Something about the idea of a man transforming into a beast, of the monster within being unleashed, is enthralling to us. We see it in other classic creations like Jekyll & Hyde, and even the Hulk. And recent films like the German production Blood and Chocolate (2007) continue to keep the subgenre going strong.

Now the saga of the lycanthrope stands at a pivotal turning point. This fall will see the long-awaited release of Universal's full-scale remake of the Chaney classic The Wolf Man, starring Benicio del Toro, with Anthony Hopkins in the Claude Rains role. After all these years, and all the other classic monster retreads, this is the first time that the most famous werewolf story of all is getting the remake treatment.

Will audiences accept it? The project has been plagued with issues since the beginning, including director musical chairs, and recent news of extensive reshoots. And so fans of one of horror's most enduring creatures wait with bated breath to see what the future holds for their beloved beasty. But one thing's for sure, whether it's a hit or a miss, the new Wolf Man will most certainly not be the last time we hear that distinctive howl in movie theaters...

Part 1: "...And the Moon Is Full and Bright"
Part 2: "Bad Moon Rising"

"...And the Moon Is Full and Bright": A History of Werewolf Movies, Part 1

With the highly anticipated Benicio del Toro remake of Universal's The Wolf Man on the way this fall, the time is ripe to take a long, considered look at the history of one of the horror genre's most venerable and beloved sub-categories. Although not quite as popular as its cousin the vampire, and perhaps not as thoroughly explored cinematically, the lycanthrope has nevertheless provided us with some of the most terrifying films ever made.

A beast whose origins go back nearly to the beginnings of Western civilization, the mythological being who can transform from man to wolf under the influence of the full moon has gone through its fair share of Hollywood-ization, much like its blood-drinking brethren. And in general, the history of werewolf films can be divided into three major eras. Today we will take a look at the first.

The earliest known werewolf movie would be the 1913 short film, The Werewolf, unfortunately now lost. Following that was the 1923 French effort, Le loup-garou. But unlike the vampire subgenre, which can be found alive and well even in the earliest silent era of film, in order to find the earliest major werewolf film, one must jump ahead to the 1930s, and a time when talkies were already in full bloom. The year is 1935, and Universal, the studio which has made a name for itself producing films about Dracula, Frankenstein, The Invisible Man and The Mummy, has turned its attentions at last to the legend of the werewolf.

The movie is Werewolf of London, and for some connoissuers of vintage horror, it remains the high watermark of lycanthrope cinema. Henry Hull stars as Dr. Glendon, and English botanist who falls under the curse of the werewolf after being bitten on an expedition in the Himalayas. The vast bulk of cinema's take on the werewolf legend is already established in this one film: the transmission through biting, the transformation under the full moon, the beast's desire to destroy that which its human half loves most.

The makeup created by Jack Pierce is striking, and Hull's humanoid, intelligent portrayal of the creature is quite unique, giving us one of the only talking werewolves of the silver screen. The film also puts the transformation scene front and center, a tradition that would continue throughout the history of the subgenre. Werewolf of London remains one of the most influential, and yet also one of the most underrated horror films of the Universal canon.

And yet, for whatever reason, in its own day, Werewolf of London did not resonate with audiences to the same degree that previous Universal efforts had. A sequel was never produced. Rather, six years later, when Universal finally returned to the subgenre, it would be with an entirely unrelated film, starting from scratch with an entirely new continuity and character. The result would be the single most famous werewolf film ever produced--a work that would afford the creature a permanent place in the horror movie lexicon.

Lon Chaney Jr., son of the world-famous silent horror movie megastar, was hired to play the ill-fated Lawrence Talbot, the son of a Welsh nobleman who is bitten on the moors of his native land, and suffers the subsequent curse of the werewolf. In the role of his father, Universal alum Claude Rains returned to the horror genre. And completing the trifecta was the one and only Bela Lugosi, who portrays the wolf that turns Talbot in the first place.

The reasons for the film's endurance are many. A taut and layered script by the great Curt Siodmak, and one of Jack Pierce's most iconic makeup creations are among them. But it is Chaney's tragic and sympathetic portrayal of the doomed soul Talbot that anchors the picture and lends it the pathos that most likely helped the film become the success that Werewolf of London was not. We feel for Talbot as he struggles hopelessly with the monster within him, yearning for nothing more than death.

The Wolf Man was Universal's first major success of the 1940s, a decade which saw the studio lose a step or two in its horror output from its golden era in the 1930s. Chaney's monster was such a popular one that it took its place in what would come to be known as classic horror's "holy trinity" of sorts, alongside Lugosi's Dracula and Boris Karloff's Frankenstein Monster.

Chaney's portrayal was so appreciated, in fact, that the actor would be brought back on four more occasions to play the Wolf Man, making the creature the only one in the Universal pantheon to be played by the same actor in every one of its appearances. The first return of the character came in 1943's Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, which was also the first of the "monster team-up" movies to come out of the movie studio, marking a distinct evolution of the category from genuine fright films into more fun, juvenile, comic book-style fare.

After doing battle with Bela Lugosi's Frankenstein Monster, Chaney reprised his role in Universal's two mega-monster blowouts of the mid-1940s, House of Frankenstein (1944) and House of Dracula (1945). Alongside John Carradine as the Count and Glenn Strange as the Monster, Chaney's Talbot continued his seemingly never-ending search to either cure or kill himself. In the meantime, much innocent monster fun was had. Interestingly, it is Chaney's Wolf Man storyline which holds these two late entries together, providing the backbone of the narrative.

So closely associated with the character was Chaney, that he was brought back one last time for what wiould be the ultimate stage in the evolution of Universal's stable of classic monsters: the 1948 horror-comedy classic, Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein. Once again, Chaney provides the heart of the narrative, playing sobbing straight man to the bumbling genius of Bud and Lou. Particularly memorable is the famous scene in which Lou Costello comes within a hair of being mauled by the beast while sneaking into Talbot's hotel room to steal a fruit.

Although cherished today, at the time A&CMF was looked down on by "horror purists", and even Chaney himself later deplored the film for bringing an end the Universal monster cycle. One thing was for certain, and it was that the Wolf Man had finally run out of steam. Chaney's hand-wringing routine had, at last, worn thin.

Only one other film was produced during this time by Universal, or any other studio, that made any attempt to keep the werewolf alive. It was the somewhat obscure She-Wolf of London, starring a young June Lockhart as the screen's first female lycanthrope. Made a year after the final "serious" Wolf Man picture, She-Wolf of London can be seen as something of a last-ditch attempt to capitalize on the name value of the previous decade's Werewolf of London, although the two films are narratively unrelated.

Horror films in general went into something of a tailspin following World War II, and werewolf films were no different. A new approach was certainly required, and it took Hollywood nearly a decade to finally recover and come up with some fresh ideas.

Finally, in 1956, B-movie impresario Sam Katzman reopened the book on the subgenre with the rather straightforwardly titled, The Werewolf. Although heavily influenced by The Wolf Man, as can be seen in Steven Ritch's portrayal of the ill-fated Duncan Marsh, the movie is very much a product of the atom-age terrors that dominated the new style of horror then emerging. Much like the giant monsters of the era, Marsh's lycanthropy is brought on by scientific experimentation gone terribly wrong--specifically atomic experimentation.

Gone are the trappings of the supernatural that had always been a part of the werewolf legend--this film's creature was a creature rooted in science, exploiting the fears which then gripped much of the American public. It was an interesting take on an old gimmick, and proved that the subgenre did indeed have legs. The film is also notable for its breathtaking location shots at California's Big Bear Lake.

The following year brought audiences one of the most well-remembered cult movies of the era, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, starring a very young Michael Landon and produced by another giant in the realm of B-movies, American Internation Pictures' Samuel J. Arkoff. Continuing the theme of science gone wrong, and also capitalizing on the rising youth movement that had overtaken popular culture, the flick proved a major drive-in success, and led to such follow-ups as I Was a Teenage of Frankenstein, and I Was a Teenage Mummy.

It was right around this time that Hammer Films, a studio from across the pond in Great Britain, was beginning to make waves with their own innovative takes on traditional Universal monsters. The late 1950s saw Hammer's versions of Dracula and Frankenstein launch into horror immortality, bringing a much more garish, gory and sensational approach than had ever been seen before. Attention to period detail, over-the-top English scenery-chewing, and more blood and outright sexuality than had ever been previously seen in cinematic horror were among the hallmarks of the new studio's attention-grabbing output.

It only made sense that eventually, Hammer would have to make its mark on the werewolf subgenre. And so, in 1961, Hammer gave us The Curse of the Werewolf, starring the dashing Oliver Reed as the titular lycanthrope. Set in 19th century Spain, the film is much more visceral than any werewolf movie yet seen--this wolf draws real blood, and his predatory nature is explained rather explicitly as having a sexual subtext. It is without question one of the absolute gems of werewolf cinema.

And yet, much like Universal's first attempt some 25 years earlier, The Curse of the Werewolf was something of a flop for Hammer, which came as a shock following the resounding success of films like Horror of Dracula, The Curse of Frankenstein and The Mummy. As a result, the Terence Fisher-directed Curse would be Hammer's one and only werewolf-themed production, thus making it all the more special.

Following Hammer's box office failure at continuing the tradition established by Universal, the werewolf effectively went into mothballs. It appeared as if there was nothing new to say, and no new way to breath life into the old boy. It would take a full 20 years, and an entire remaking of the cinematic horror landscape, to finally bring the beast out of its hibernation. And when it finally did return, it marked the dawning of what many would consider to be a golden age of werewolf flicks.

London would be the setting once again. But this time, the werewolf would be American.

Soon to Come: Part 2 - "Bad Moon Rising"

Wolf Man Remake Gets Pushed Back

Yet another twist on the long and winding road of Universal's lavish new take on The Wolf Man, just about the only remake I have any interest in whatsoever. Fangoria is now reporting that the Benicio del Toro flick will no longer hit theaters on April 3, as was originally planned. Instead, we have to wait until some time in fall 2009 to see Larry Talbot in all his furry glory once again. Hopefully this extra time will be used to further polish the movie, and isn't a bad sign for the production. Keep your clawed fingers crossed.

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On the Cyber-Elite Horror Survey front, I'm proud to announce that the results have been completely tallied. And, I must say, it's a most impressive and thought-provoking list. Some expected choices, some less so. And number one is bound to raise a few eyebrows (I know it did mine). But I want to do this right, and not just slap up the list and call it a day. I plan to cross-reference the results and provide a little analysis, plus I want to give proper recognition to all the online luminaries that took part. I fully expect to be able to post the whole shebang tomorrow.

Want to See the Wolf Man Trailer?

Universal Studios has come up with an unprecedented way to preview footage from its highly anticipated Wolf Man remake. According to /film, patrons of Universal's Hollywood theme parks will get an early look at the first official trailer for the Benicio del Toro film.

As part of its Halloween Horror Nights attraction, Universal Studios will feature the Wolf Man trailer on the "Terror Tram" that ferries visitors around the park. I'm assuming this is the trailer the screened a little while back at the San Diego Comic Con.

Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios kicks off on October 3.

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I also wanted to announce that as of yesterday, yours truly is the official New York-area art columnist for the mainstream news website Examiner.com. Now, you can all heave a sigh of relief, because my crossover into the realm of respectable web journalism doesn't mean that I am abandoning my responsibility to you, the loyal Vault Dwellers who have made The Vault of Horror one of the most heavily trafficked horror blogs on planet Earth. But if you do get an opportunity, head on over and pay it a visit, won't you? It's been a long-time coming, but at last, the Internet literati are beginning to recognize my copious abilities. Vindication is mine!

Universal Names a Composer for The Wolf Man

Ain't It Cool News has broken a particularly cool bit of news this evening, namely that none other than Danny Elfman will be scoring the impending remake of Universal classic The Wolf Man, starring Benicio Del Toro.

Elfman is of course, one of the old war horses of movie scores, having plied his trade for nigh onto a quarter century. However, if I may throw a small monkey wrench into th geekworks here, he is not really known as a composer of "heavy" material. His work tends have a sort of quirky, oddball, whimsical feel to it, evidenced in flicks like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and Beetle Juice. And really, the only straight-ahead horror movies he's ever scored have been Red Dragon, Sleepy Hollow and Nightbreed.

Nevertheless, his work can occasionally have a grim, foreboding feel to it, most famously in his iconic Batman theme. Hopefully, we get more of that and less of his trademark "la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la" stuff.

My personal choice would've been veteran Polish composer Wojciech Kilar, who knocked it out of the park in 1992 with the score for Bram Stoker's Dracula. Although he's been around since the '50s, Kilar made his name among American audiences with that stellar score. Surprisingly, the only horror score he's done since has been Roman Polanski's The Ninth Gate (1999). His epic creepiness and Central European flavor would've been dead-on. But Elfman's no slouch, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. What say you people?

Universal Screens Wolf Man Footage at Comic-Con

As the promising remake of The Wolf Man grows steadily nearer, it has been reported that those who attended its panel for the film Friday afternoon at the San Diego Comic-Con were treated to some highlights.

Quint of Ain't It Cool News has filed an eyewitness report from the panel, which included makeup master Rick Baker, as well as Benicio "Larry Talbot" del Toro and his leading lady Emily Blunt. Quint describes gory scenes of assorted werewolfery, as well as Anthony "Sir John Talbot" Hopkins brandishing the same silver-headed cane seen in the 1941 original.

Unfortunately, he also reports on Baker's apparent frustration that although the actual Wolf Man is his own creation (“What I did in this film wasn’t all that different from what Jack Pierce did in the original”), the transformation scenes will be handled with CGI.

This remake really could go either way at this point, but I continue to be hopeful (what can I say, I'm just built that way.) In the meantime, check out the entire description here.

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In other news, I've just discovered that my post from a few days back containing the leaked pix of the new Jason Voorhees has mysteriously vanished from The Vault of Horror. Lest you think I've backed down in the face of studio pressure, dear reader, let me assure you that the removal occurred without my knowledge or permission. I'm assuming it's something Blogger did either preemptively, or in response to some kind of cease & desist order from New Line. Well, well, well, I suppose I'm not as "under the radar" as I supposed...

Del Toro Wolf Man Pix Hit the Web

Since first appearing at EW.com yesterday, these two images of Benicio Del Toro as Wolf Man Larry Talbot in the upcoming remake have been making the rounds on a bunch of sites, but I couldn't resist the urge to put in my two cents.

To put it simply, Rick Baker is a god among men. I knew he was a major fan of the work of Universal makeup master Jack Pierce, but even I couldn't have dared to dream of such an impressive homage to Pierce's work on Lon Chaney Jr. in the 1941 original. It's refreshing to see they resisted the urge to go CGI. It's also nice to see they're sticking with the more humanoid werewolf variety, rather than the lupine version made popular (by Baker himself, ironically) in An American Werewolf in London. This is good stuff. Consider me officially re-excited for this picture, now 11 months away.