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Mark of the Beast: ‘The Wolf Man’ at 80 [Gods and Monsters]

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Wolf Man 2024

In Bride of Frankenstein, Dr. Pretorius, played by the inimitable Ernest Thesiger, raises his glass and proposes a toast to Colin Clive’s Henry Frankenstein—“to a new world of Gods and Monsters.” I invite you to join me in exploring this world, focusing on horror films from the dawn of the Universal Monster movies in 1931 to the collapse of the studio system and the rise of the new Hollywood rebels in the late 1960’s. With this period as our focus, and occasional ventures beyond, we will explore this magnificent world of classic horror. So, I raise my glass to you and invite you to join me in the toast.

Universal had been the reigning house of horror in Hollywood since 1931 largely because of Carl Laemmle, Jr.’s brief reign as head of production. Unfortunately, the studio also hemorrhaged money under his watch. In March of 1936, the studio was sold and production of horror films ground to a halt. Except for The Invisible Ray and Dracula’s Daughter, both released in the year of the sale, virtually nothing from the genre would be released for three years even though they were essentially the only profitable films for Universal during the tenure of the younger Laemmle. But as is so often the case in times of political uncertainty, in this instance the rise of fascism in Europe, horror became a means of facing and releasing fears. In 1939, as Hitler was invading neighboring nations, Universal revived its most successful monster for a third time with Son of Frankenstein. Sequels to The Invisible Man and The Mummy soon followed, also to great success. It was clear that the time was ripe to introduce a new monster to the pantheon—The Wolf Man

Universal had made a werewolf movie before, Werewolf of London in 1935, but it had failed to ignite at the box office. The film is much more related to the science-bound Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story than the folkloric mythos more often associated with werewolves today. The studio also attempted to make a werewolf movie for its great monster star Boris Karloff, but the script never came together entirely and was abandoned when the Laemmles lost control of the studio.

Though hardly the first werewolf movie, The Wolf Man set the template for the subgenre as we know it. The mythology of the werewolf including the full moon, death by silver, and becoming a werewolf by being bitten by a werewolf all come, not from medieval folklore, but from the mind of screenwriter Curt Siodmak. Though other touches, such as the pentagram marking the werewolf’s next victim and the importance of wolfsbane have fallen by the wayside, these other elements have an organic sensibility to them that make them feel as though they sprung from the ancients rather than the relatively modern world. That is also something of the feel of the whole film. In some ways, it seems far flung in both time and place, while in others, set in modern (1941) America. In the original script, the setting was modern-day Wales, but references to this were removed during the shooting. This ultimately works to the film’s benefit, giving it a universal and timeless sensibility, much like the monster movies of Universal’s first wave of classics.

Siodmak also tapped into important human elements of the story. As with the Frankenstein monster, he understood that it was important for audiences to sympathize with the monster, and the Wolf Man is indeed the most sympathetic of all Universal monsters. There is a deep tragedy to the story of a man forced to become something frightening and murderous against his will. As the rhyme repeated three times in the film says, “even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.” Larry Talbot is such a “pure in heart” man. That he is killed by his own father, who has recently lost another son, only deepens the classically tragic element, making it a tragedy of nearly Greek or Shakespearian proportions.

For the role of Larry Talbot, the Wolf Man, Universal decided to capitalize on the name of one of its greatest stars of the silent era Lon Chaney, in the form of his son Creighton, who began performing under the name Lon Chaney, Jr. under pressure from studios. In 1939, Chaney had had his big break with the role of Lennie in Of Mice and Men—an acclaimed performance of sensitivity and nuance. Universal, however, saw his imposing size and decided he was best suited to play monsters. In early 1941, he played his first major horror role as the title character in Man Made Monster, a role not too far removed from the Frankenstein monster, which he would play in Ghost of Frankenstein in 1942. With Talbot, Chaney was able to play to his greatest strengths, both as a troubled and tragic man when he appeared as Larry, and the imposing physical presence of his beastly form.

Chaney was accompanied by a stellar supporting cast, one of the strongest ever assembled for a Universal monster movie. Evelyn Ankers (Gwen Conliffe) was the leading female horror star of the 1940’s at Universal and often appeared opposite Chaney. Ralph Bellamy (Colonel Montford) had been nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for The Awful Truth in 1937 and had a very long and varied career that included appearances in His Girl Friday (1940), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), Trading Places (1983), and Pretty Woman (1990). Patric Knowles (Frank Andrews) also had a long and diverse career appearing in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), How Green Was My Valley (1941) and Chism (1970). He would also appear in the second Wolf Man film along with Lon Chaney, Jr., Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943).

The three most notable performances in the film, besides Chaney, are from Claude Rains, Bela Lugosi, and the inimitable Maria Ouspenskaya. Claude Rains, who plays Larry’s stern and scientifically minded father John Talbot, began his career at Universal playing the lead, though mostly unseen, role of Jack Griffin, better known as The Invisible Man (1933). Managing to avoid the typecasting of his predecessors Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, Rains became one of the most respected character actors of all time, appearing in a wide variety of roles in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Casablanca (1942), Phantom of the Opera (1943), Notorious (1946), and Lawrence of Arabia (1962) among many, many others. Though Lugosi appears only briefly as Bela, the fortune teller, he pours everything he has into the role, as he always did. He leaves a lasting mark on the film and on the main character as he is the werewolf that bites Talbot.

Maria Ouspenskaya is a truly indelible film presence. She was not only a very highly respected actress, but also acting and dance coach. She was twice nominated for Academy Awards for her roles in Dodsworth (1936) and Love Affair (1939) and founded The School of Dramatic Art in New York City in 1929 and The Maria Ouspenskaya School of Dance in Los Angeles when she moved to Hollywood in the 30’s. Though her role as Maleva could be seen as a tired cliché today, it was quite unique at the time. She is the sage who simultaneously teaches and warns. Maleva’s descendants have appeared throughout horror history, sometimes as a harbinger like Crazy Ralph (Walt Gorney) in the first two Friday the 13th movies or perhaps more directly in a character like Tangina Barrons (Zelda Rubinstein) in the Poltergeist series. For all her formidable credentials, Maleva is Ouspenskaya’s most famous role, and she would repeat it two years later in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.

Universal’s legendary Jack Pierce would create his fourth iconic monster make-up (after Frankenstein’s monster, the Mummy, and the Bride) with the Wolf Man. Pierce was already considered a master of hair make-ups, exemplified by his work on the human-beast hybrids in Island of Lost Souls (1932) and Ygor (Bela Lugosi) in Son of Frankenstein, but the Wolf Man is the epitome of this skill. He had originally planned a very similar make-up for Henry Hull in Werewolf of London, but the star and the studio requested that he scale it back to make Hull more recognizable. There were no such limitations with Chaney, who found the process arduous and the make-up itself extremely uncomfortable. Also, he and Pierce did not particularly get along. Ironically, no actor (with the possible exception of Boris Karloff) spent as much time in Pierce’s chair than Chaney, playing the Mummy twice in addition to his Frankenstein’s monster and Wolf Man appearances. Despite his distaste for the make-up, Chaney agreed to play the character four more times, making the Wolf Man the only major Universal monster to be played consistently by the same actor. 

Following the original, Chaney would play Larry Talbot and his hairy alter-ego in several “monster mashes” of the 1940’s. The first of these was the afore-mentioned Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man. The success of having two monsters clash led to having many monsters together in House of Frankenstein in 1944. The following year, the monsters teamed up again for House of Dracula in which Larry Talbot finally finds a happy ending when he is cured of his lycanthropy. This cure was brushed aside for one final team-up in the horror-comedy classic Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), in which the comedy duo also meet Dracula (played for only the second time on screen by Bela Lugosi) and the Wolf Man.

Like the phases of the moon, werewolf movies seem to come in cycles. About every twenty years, a new important film appears involving the legendary creature, most of them owing a great deal to the mythos created by Curt Siodmak and The Wolf Man—either to pay tribute to it, or to subvert it. In 1961, Hammer released Curse of the Werewolf starring Oliver Reed, which carries on the particularly tragic elements from the earlier film. 1981 saw three major films (as well as a few minor ones) that put their own stamp on the legend: The Howling, An American Werewolf in London, and Wolfen. The Howling and American Werewolf in particular make direct references to The Wolf Man, sometimes to adhere to the mythos it created, sometimes to subvert it. The Canadian film Ginger Snaps was released in 2000 and brought the puberty and sexual awakening subtext of the werewolf story to the forefront. And, right on schedule, 2020-21 have seen several werewolf films, perhaps most notably The Wolf of Snow Hollow and Werewolves Within. Of course, there have been smatterings of films that fall outside the cycles—I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957), The Company of Wolves (1984), Teen Wolf (1985), Bad Moon (1996), and Cursed (2005) are all great examples, but they are in many ways exceptions that prove the rule.

Of all these films, The Wolf Man remains the most influential of them all. It inspired the screenwriters, directors, and make-up masters that grew up watching it as they set out to make their own werewolf films, which in turn inspired the next generation in making theirs. But it all leads back to the beginning—to Curt Siodmak, Lon Chaney, Jr., Jack Pierce, the misty moors of the undisclosed town and the tragic monster they created to inhabit it. It is a modern creation that feels like an ancient legend. It continues, after 80 years, to bid us to fear the full moon and reminds us that even those who are pure in heart can hide a beast within.

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Editorials

Neon-Soaked Cult Classic ‘Vamp’ Starring Grace Jones Still Has Bite 40 Years Later

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Vamp 1986
Grace Jones and Dedee Pfeiffer in Vamp

College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.

Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.

Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.

To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character. 

vamp

Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp

The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.

Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.

If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.

Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.

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Grace Jones in Vamp

Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.

As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.

Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.

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Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp

Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.

In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.

The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partnerSqueak, who looks like he wasfed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires. 

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Lisa Lyon in Vamp

If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.

Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.

The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of acomic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong doescome true, and it is very enjoyable.

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