Similar to how he shifted our expected perspective from predator to prey in 2020’s slick reimagining of The Invisible Man, which layered the tale with a topical #MeToo sheen, Aussie genre helmer Leigh Whannell is, once again, altering the ingredients for what we think a Wolf Man narrative should be.
Generational trauma, the uncertain dynamic of a marriage and meditations on grief layer Whannell’s script – written in conjunction with Corbett Tuck – as the film lays focus across one night in the lives of Blake (Christopher Abbott), his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner), and their daughter, Ginger (Matilda Firth); no spoilers, it’s the last night of their lives as they know it.
When we meet Blake and Charlotte – following a supremely intense opening sequence that lays the foundation for the canine carnage that’s to come – they are in the throws of a strained period in their marriage, due in large part to Charlotte’s journalistic career keeping her at a certain distance from both Blake and Ginger. Their relationship ultimately has to take a backseat to the news that Blake’s father has passed, though he readily admits to having little of a relationship with him, but in learning that he has to travel to the deep woods of Oregon to see to his belongings, Blake uses the trip as a means to bring the family closer together in a setting that he has minimal fondness towards.
The setting and its cut-off-from-civilisation temperament is classic genre fodder, and Whannell masterfully utilises such a trope, but does so in a way that never feels as if it’s simply playing into horror beats because it can. The opening sequence tells us that there’s something – or someone – in the woods, and when Blake, Charlotte and Ginger are attacked on their drive to Blake’s father’s dwellings, dread immediately sets in.
It’s a clever choice on behalf of Whannell and Tuck’s thinking too, as the notion that Blake is specifically injured by such a beast that forces him to transform into the titular moniker means it’s all the more tragic that he turns on his family against his own will. We know how close Blake and Ginger are, so we’re invested in how much humanity he’ll try to hold on to in order to avoid slaying his daughter out of beastly necessity. And the strained nature of his relationship with Charlotte opens up questions surrounding her own safety, and whether or not he’ll target her specifically? Or if she won’t hesitate in protecting herself against a man she’s already at slight odds with.
At a beautifully tight 103 minutes, Whannell trims all the fat and gets right to the meat and bones of the action, balancing cat-and-mouse tension with emotionality as we slowly bear witness to Blake’s transformation, with Abbott committing wholly to the cause of a man going feral against the fibres of his soul. There was a lot of discourse originally surrounding the film’s wolf design when a theme park image was released that indicated this particular wolf man would like a bargain bin halloween costume. Thankfully, it’s not the case in actuality, with Whannell wisely keeping the transformation itself akin more so to a man losing his soul to an animal, and though we do see his facial features alter and his movements change, it feels shockingly realistic as to what such a transition could be.
The techniques adopted to highlight Blake’s change are beautifully rendered here, with Whannell employing a shifting perspective in colour and sound as scenes flip between what Blake sees and hears compared to Charlotte. It’s an impressive feat, though given what the director achieved with silence in The Invisible Man, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the discomforting sound design and visual trickery in Wolf Man are technical delights.
As slick as the transformation is though, the running time does also slightly play against the film in that Blake, loving father that he is, feels a bit too aggressive in his animalistic form compared to his human side. Obviously the beastly nature is accounted for, but we never see him snap or have a resemblance of violence in his personality before his change. Maybe there’s a deeper conversation to be had regarding the hereditary nature of violent inclinations and that Blake, coming from an abusive father, was always destined to embody the sins of his bloodline?
It’s a minor complaint though for a film that ultimately proves both an affecting example of the genre and a furthering of Whannell’s chokehold of such. Though some may be surprised at how efficiently the film wraps itself up, there’s something incredibly satisfying about a feature these days that doesn’t succumb to a sequel mentality and thrives on its own accord as a self-contained thriller that’s complex, rich, a little bit nasty, and a lot of fun.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Wolf Man is now screening in Australian theatres.
