Jack Simon/Courtesy photo
If nothing else, “Wolf Man” more successfully does what I have warned people for years about: Oregon has a lot of weird stuff going on in there. I lived out there for four summers and consider myself a skeptic regarding the supernatural, but here I am imploring you with my hands clasped together, pleading: Do not mess with the Oregon woods. Besides the natural density of the massive trees that can disorient you, there are things in there. Some are human, sure, but even those I don’t want to mess with. But the other stuff, the things that make me not want to peek out of my hammock late at night, feel more real in Oregon than they do anywhere else.
This is all relevant because “Wolf Man” takes the crucial step to contextualize its lore, a step too many movies skip over. Without context, we have no rules; without rules, we have no rubric on which to judge the film. Every film has rules, even the bizarre weirdo surrealist ones (rest in peace, David Lynch).
Here, we are placed in a universe that borders on our own, one buoyed by realism. People have ordinary jobs and lives, but the twist here is those things that go bump in the night, the things that make you peek over the end of your bed or out of your hammock when you hear an indistinguishable creak — those creatures are very, very real. Those monsters stay out of the real world’s way, as long as those people stay out of the monster’s realm of darkness. It is as if all those tales you heard from the mountain men on your trips were authentic.
That is the world “Wolf Man” plops us into.
And not a bad set of guidelines director Leigh Whannell lays out there! They’re clear, distinct, and easy to follow throughout the creation process. To his credit, he never steers away from them, which is a guarantee your film will be, at the very least, decent. And that’s what “Wolf Man” is — it is decent, with a bunch of things above par and a bunch of ordinary things.
Whannell capitalizes on his rules by world-building through an exquisite sound design. I don’t often extoll the virtues of impeccable sound, but I would be ashamed if I didn’t shout out P.K. Hooker’s work here, beautifully weaving a high pitch-low bass throughout while never interfering with the solid score from Benjamin Wallfisch. Wallfisch’s composing, eeking in a strum of a string here and the whine of a piano there, adds to the timid fear the Oregon woods can seize you in, combining to create that genuine atmosphere that still heightens the creep level. At times, I forget entirely I’m watching a movie, and I’m buying into the suspense so hard that I find myself at the edge of my seat cheering for the family to get away.
Then somebody opens their mouth and is stuck reading out some mealy-mouthed writing that doesn’t do anybody any favors. Christopher Abbot was killing it in “Poor Things” just last year! There’s no way he’s this bad of an actor. But having to monologue lines like “Sometimes when you’re a daddy, you’re so afraid of scarring your kids you become the thing that scars them” will make any actor struggle to breathe life into.
Julia Gardner might be that bad. Playing husband and wife with a strayed relationship, their characters, Blake and Ginger, radiate the palpate chemistry of two college undergrads who were just asked to take on a group project together. I understand rushing through the exposition to get back to the horror, in fact, I prefer that approach when it comes to scare flicks, but the little time spent fleshing out their backstory is poorly written. It would have served the story more to have focused on the opening narrative salvo between Blake and his father (Sam Jaeger) or even to keep woodsman Derek (Benedict Hardie) around for long enough that the family has something auxiliary to play off of.
On a basic entertainment level, “Wolf Man”‘ certainly has merits. I was never bored; at times, I was downright entranced, and if you throw it on when you’re laying in bed with a girl you just brought home, it’ll be enough to keep you both happy. But beyond that, “Wolf Man” can find itself on the ever-growing garbage heap of forgettable monster movies.
Critic Score: 4.9 out of 10
Jack Simon is a mogul coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food he can’t afford, traveling to places out of his budget, and creating art about skiing, eating, and traveling while broke. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see his Jack’s Jitney travelogue series. You can email him at [email protected] for inquiries of any type.