Editorials
[Full Moon Frights] Jack Nicholson Becomes a Middle-Aged Werewolf in ‘Wolf’
Werewolf movies have existed for over a hundred years. There are dozens upon dozens upon dozens of them and new offerings arrive with each passing year. Contrary to popular belief, however, there are plenty of good ones out there. From the classics to the cult favorites to the obscure offerings, this column will cover a different werewolf film each month near the latest rise of a full moon. So throw out your wolfsbane and silver, take to the moors, and run towards that gleaming globe in the sky, because it’s time for Full Moon Frights!
I toiled for a very long time over which film I should cover to launch this column. Some old black and white classic? An ‘80s favorite? Maybe a forgotten gem? Perhaps a more modern choice? All such eras will eventually be poured over in this monthly series, but for some reason, Wolf Man Jack entered my mind and just wouldn’t leave. So, Wolf it is!
Wolf was born in the early 1980s as a pet project of novelist/screenwriter Jim Harrison (Revenge, Legends of the Fall) and the concept quickly drew the interest of Harrison’s friend, actor Jack Nicholson. By the time Harrison had conjured up a draft of the script that both he and Jack were happy with, the ‘80s were winding down and it had been awhile since a hit werewolf movie had come along. In other words, it wasn’t the best time to be shopping around a more expensive, prestige monster flick.
Lucky for them, Colombia Pictures’ Bram Stoker’s Dracula burst onto the scene in 1992 and became one of the highest grossers of the year. Prestige horror was in again and Columbia was hot for more. Along with its sister studio, TriStar, they would go on to produce the following similar efforts over the next decade: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Mary Reilly, Hollow Man, and…of course…Wolf.
With their furry and fanged passion project finally getting off the ground after a decade of development, Nicholson enlisted the talents of his friend and regular collaborator, Mike Nichols. What better way to entice non-horror fans to see a monster movie than have it come from the director of The Graduate, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and Working Girl who was re-teaming with his star from Carnal Knowledge (among others)? The script received an initial round of rewrites by Wesley Strick (Arachnophobia, Cape Fear), with a final uncredited overhaul coming from Elaine May (Heaven Can Wait, Tootsie). The result is a melting pot of Hollywood class, commercial genre elements, and a dark sense of satirical humor.
That all sounds well and good, but what does it have to do with Jack Nicholson turning into a werewolf? Everything. At its core, Wolf is the story of a middle-aged man on the verge of a midlife crisis that is brought about by sizable changes in his life. Will Randall (Nicholson) is the aging editor-in-chief of a respected New York publishing company. He likes his job and his clients, he’s been married for a decade and a half, and has an extremely comfortable life. Comfortable, but somewhat passionless.
Unfortunately for Will, the publishing company is in the process of being bought out by a ruthless billionaire (Christopher Plummer) and he is being phased out. His conniving young protégé, Stewart (James Spader) is replacing him and Will has been offered a demotion in the form of “a job that no one would want”. Did I mention that said protégé is also sleeping with Will’s wife, Catherine (Kate Nelligan)? After all, if you’re casting James Spader in the James Spader role, you might as well go full Spader with it!
In other words, Will Randall’s life has gone to shit. In any other kind of film, we’d see this turn into either a depressing drama about how fleeting one’s happiness is or Will would go off on some life-affirming vacation allowing him to forget his troubles. Instead, all of his bad luck happens to come to a head after he was bitten by a wolf on a full moon. This leads to Will’s inner passion and ambition, his inner wolf, being reborn again both literally and metaphorically. The beast within has awakened and he’s not going down without a fight. What follows is a series of events that sees Will Randall reclaiming every aspect of his life, from his self-confidence to his profession to his love life.
As the power of the wolf continues to take over, Will’s four senses increase tenfold. He no longer needs his reading glasses. He can smell liquor on the breaths of his co-workers. He can hear gossip about himself from across the building. He’s stronger and no longer looking like a tired schlub. He’s vital, vigorous, and ready to seize the things he wants most.
There’s a downside, of course. After all, this is a werewolf movie. For every moment of triumph that his newfound gifts afford him, there’s an equal tragedy. One minute, he’s spending a wonderful day with his boss’s intriguing daughter Laura (Michelle Pfeiffer) and the next he’s waking up in the forest covered in animal blood. One moment he’s gleefully pissing on Stewart’s career and the next he’s finding severed fingers in his jacket pocket from the night before. One minute he’s about to go out for a romantic dinner with Laura and the next he’s being questioned by a detective (Richard Jenkins) about a recent homicide. The wolf’s bite is taking away from him as much as it gives and it’s only a matter of time before his nightly transformations become permanent.
For all its satire, humor, romance, and drama, Wolf is still very much a horror film. Ennio Morricone’s haunting themes permeate the film like a Gothic fog. Nichols’ and cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno’s post-transformation sequences are shot in a very dreamlike and heightened fashion, hearkening back to the classic monster films of the ‘30s and ‘40s, albeit with a ‘90s sheen. As for the transformations themselves, all involved were wise enough to hire the talents of Rick Baker. Still, you will find no full American Werewolf in London or Howling-style wolfbeasts here.
Baker & Co. have instead allowed the performers to convey much of the werewolfery; opting for old school make-up, hair, and facial appliances to enhance their already-present predatory nature. Thus we have a true Wolf Man Jack, with Nicholson jogging, running, leaping, grinning, and growling about in a riff on the classic Jack Pierce/Henry Hull look from 1935’s Werewolf of London.
Wolf isn’t a perfect movie. It’s not very scary (although not all horror needs to be) and while her performance makes up for it, Pfeiffer’s character is underwritten. Plus a couple of the heavier horror elements don’t quite fully land at times and can come off a little campy. I don’t see this as a problem, however. After all, the older era of werewolf and exploitation films that it’s hearkening back to had a similar vibe. In many ways it feels like a great marriage of Mike Nichols & Elaine May’s previous works with AIP-esque exploitation. Fitting, given Jack’s career beginnings.
What makes it sing most are Nichols’ juggling of tones and some stellar lead performances from Nicholson, Pfeiffer, Plummer, and especially Spader. It’s not an all-timer, but it’s still a damn good werewolf movie. One that weaves classic monster tropes (including an aging mystic) throughout its themes of midlife crises, self-examination, the rejuvenation of passion, and…of course…werewolf vs. man (and werewolf vs. werewolf) carnage. It’s not something we get very often and therefore should be cherished.
See you next full moon!
Editorials
Before ‘The Blair Witch Project’, ‘Alien Autopsy’ Showed How Real Found Footage Could Feel
The line separating artist from con man is a lot thinner than you might initially believe. While I think we can all agree that lying for the sake of profit is actively malicious behavior, isn’t it also true that the faux documentary aspect of The Blair Witch Project is half the reason why that film became such a cultural phenomenon? After all, if there’s one thing filmmakers have in common with stage magicians, it’s that misleading and misdirecting audiences is simply part of the job.
That’s why I’ve developed a habit of mostly ignoring the moral quandaries behind many of film and television’s biggest “hoaxes” in favor of appreciating the narrative elements that drive productions like Mermaids: The Body Found and even Animal Planet’s highly underrated The Cannibal in the Jungle. However, if there’s a definitive case of a highly publicized broadcast fooling the world into taking it seriously, it has to be Fox’s infamous 1995 TV special Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction.
It’s been over three decades since that eerie footage first haunted television screens right at the peak of the ’90s ufology craze, and in that time, the video has taken on a life of its own. From countless parodies and references in everything from The X-Files to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (as well as John Dower’s recently released tell-all documentary The Alien Autopsy Scandal, which I’d highly recommend to genre fans everywhere), there’s no denying the legacy of the Alien Autopsy video. However, I rarely see the tape discussed as what it truly is: a highly convincing found footage film directed by a passionate stage magician and brought to life by masterful practical effects work.
That’s why I’d like to invite readers to join me on a deep dive into one of the most infamous broadcasts of all time in an attempt to reevaluate the footage as a fascinating narrative experience rather than a complete hoax.
The TV Special That Convinced Millions It Was Real
Ray Santilli next to Extraterrestrial replica in ‘The Alien Autopsy Scandal’
For starters, regardless of whether or not you believe that there was in fact an extraterrestrial crash in Roswell during the summer of 1947 and that some form of autopsy was performed on the victims, the producers behind the black & white recordings, Ray Santilli and Gary Shoefield, insist that their video was a “restoration.” Though I’d argue that the proper word is “remake”of genuine footage that was too damaged to air on television. That’s why the duo went on to recruit filmmaker and eccentric magician Spyros Melaris and sculptor/monster designer John Humphreys to bring their version of the autopsy to life and sell it to the highest bidder.
This is where the story of the Alien Autopsy as a narrative experience really begins. Melaris claims that his approach to the faux recording consisted of striving for extreme period accuracy in both shooting equipment and setting while also planting subtle details that would initially seem like mistakes but could later be revealed to actually fit the time period. That being said, the filmmaker was under the impression that the short would be released for free as a PR stunt, with the team later producing and selling an informative documentary chronicling exactly how the footage was faked and commenting on how easy it is to manipulate public perception with a good old-fashioned magic trick.
This obviously isn’t how things went down, and that’s likely the reason why Melaris has since distanced himself from everyone else involved with the project. Yet, no amount of behind-the-scenes drama can undermine the genuine effort that went into making the short as impressive as it is. From the sourcing of real animal organs from a local butcher to make the organic part of the creature more lifelike to the highly detailed sculpt that made use of a hollowed-out underlayer that could be filled with fake blood and assorted viscera, there’s a reason why so many Hollywood specialists are still impressed with the artistry on display here.
Of course, the believability is only half the story, as I think that the best part of the autopsy is how Melaris builds on the existing tension by obscuring certain details and often embracing the chaos of what a real examination of extraterrestrial life could feel like. The camera often goes out of focus at just the right time to make certain effects hit even harder, and we can only speculate as to what the hazmat-suited doctors are gesticulating about during the operation. There’s a real air of mystery to the whole thing that almost makes it feel like a cosmically terrifying, cursed film containing forbidden knowledge that civilians were never meant to see.
So when Fox’s Fact or Fiction brings in the specialists to comment on the film and its otherworldly subject, it’s no surprise that we end up with one of the most memorable mockumentaries of all time – albeit one where the participants are unaware that the footage they’re commenting on is basically a large-scale practical joke. A joke that the network was obviously in on, as many participants claim that the TV special cut out significant portions where guests point out that they believe the footage to be an elaborate hoax.
The Lasting Impact of the Hoax Turned Cultural Event
Regardless, I remember going to bed terrified after watching reruns of the special and thinking about the respected pathologist who claimed that the body was almost certainly inhuman, with even effects maestro Stan Winston commenting on how difficult it would be to recreate some of these visuals through practical puppetry. That’s not even mentioning Jonathan Frakes’ dramatic hyping up of the disturbing imagery as if he was talking about the tape from The Ring, with his spooky demeanor here likely being responsible for his later role as the host of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction a few years later.
Personally, I’d argue that the Alien Autopsy phenomenon had just as much of an impact on me as a horror fan as The Blair Witch Project, a film that was almost certainly influenced by the success of this immensely popular hoax (to the point where they even produced their own TV special commenting on Heather’s found footage). Even if Fox didn’t intend to produce a narrative feature about the aftermath of the Roswell crash, the end product still holds up remarkably well as a highly entertaining mockumentary exploring the idea that we may not be alone in the universe.
While neither Santilli nor the rest of the production team has ever commented on this, I also think it’s very likely that the idea of a faux Alien Autopsy could have been influenced by Dean Alioto’s The McPherson Tape/UFO Abduction. I’ve already written about how this granddaddy of found footage was co-opted by rogue ufologists who began selling bootlegs of the tape at conventions as if it were real evidence of a close encounter, so it’s not that much of a stretch to imagine that Santilli and company could have heard about this phenomenon and been inspired to come up with their own highly profitable hoax.
At the end of the day, it’s unlikely that the Alien Autopsy film is recreating any real footage from Roswell, but I can still appreciate the short and the accompanying television event as a standalone horror story that still influences the way we see found footage to this very day.
After all, the possibility that something could be real is often much scarier than finding out for sure – and that’s why I think Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction is still worth revisiting three decades down the line.
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