Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #1

Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #1

Happy Halloween! As loyal readers of this blog will know I am a massive horror film fan. Therefore I have focused August’s viewing on the Werewolf sub-genre and present some short reviews of some of my favourites and some not so good. As usual all marked out of 11!

Werewolf films have long captivated both filmmakers and audiences because they tap into primal fears and psychological complexities that transcend genre. At their core, these stories explore the theme of transformation—both physical and psychological—which resonates deeply with viewers. The metamorphosis from human to beast is not just a spectacle of horror; it’s a metaphor for the loss of control, the unleashing of suppressed desires, and the tension between civilization and instinct. This duality offers rich narrative terrain for directors and screenwriters to explore identity, morality, and the boundaries of human nature.

Psychologically, the werewolf embodies the Freudian concept of the id—the raw, instinctual part of the psyche driven by aggression and desire. The human persona represents the ego, trying to mediate between the id and the constraints of society, or the superego. When the transformation occurs, the id overwhelms the ego, resulting in violent, animalistic behavior that defies social norms. This internal conflict is dramatized through the werewolf’s struggle to reconcile their human conscience with their monstrous impulses, making the character both terrifying and tragically relatable.

The tension between animal and human also reflects broader cultural anxieties. Werewolf films often surface during times of social upheaval, when questions about identity, repression, and conformity are especially potent. The creature’s split identity—man or woman by day, beast by night—mirrors the psychological fragmentation many experience in modern life. For filmmakers, this duality offers a visual and thematic playground: the grotesque transformation scenes, the haunting aftermath, and the moral ambiguity of the protagonist all contribute to a compelling cinematic experience. For audiences, the werewolf is not just a monster—it’s a mirror, reflecting the parts of ourselves we fear, repress, and sometimes secretly crave to unleash.



American Werewolf in London (1981)

One of the greatest lycanthrope films of all time. Full of iconic scenes, scares, gore, jokes, sex and an incredible lunar-inspired soundtrack. John Landis, in a directorial purple patch at the time, managed to combine horror, comedy, mystery and a moving love story to memorable impact. Rick Baker’s make-up effects literally transformed further the art and craft of practical special effects going forward. Mark: 10 out of 11


Bad Moon (1996)

Truly dreadful film with a script that fails on most levels, notably logic. The beast is not only the werewolf in the guise of Michael Paré’s Uncle Ted, but also toxic masculinity. Single mum, Mariel Hemingway and her son spend most of the film failing to guess who the big bad wolf is until it is nearly too late. Mark: 3 out of 11


The Beast Must Die (1974)

So bad it’s almost good! The British studio, Amicus Productions, wolf-dunnit, even has the audience take a “werewolf break” where they get 30-seconds to work out who the monster is. Calvin Lockhart, Michael Gambon, and Tom Chadbon et al chew up the scenery, washing it down with bloody terrible effects. The budget was so low they had to use German Shepherd’s with mock fur as the werewolves. Mark 6 out of 11.


The Company of Wolves (1984)

Neil Jordan’s artful adaptation of Angela Carter’s short stories is a richly atmospheric triumph of mood. Though the film’s episodic structure and bookending narrative can feel a touch uneven, Jordan’s poetic direction and Carter’s dreamlike sensibility merge into something intoxicatingly strange. An excellent ensemble of character actors brings the fable-like vignettes to life, with Angela Lansbury delivering a particularly commanding and memorable turn. Mark 8 out of 11


Cursed (2005)

Wes Craven’s 2005 film The Cursed is a case where the behind-the-scenes turmoil proves far more frightening than the movie itself. A troubled production that saw Craven effectively abandon ship midway through, and it bears the scars of hasty reshoots and studio meddling. What emerges is a patchy, uneven werewolf tale with flashes of potential buried beneath the chaos. Still, a young Jesse Eisenberg lends surprising depth to the material, offering a glimpse of quality amid the hairy dross. Mark: 4 out of 11


The Cursed (2021)

Sean Ellis’s The Cursed (2021) delivers a potent blend of gothic grandeur and visceral horror, transforming familiar werewolf and Gypsy tropes into something deeply atmospheric and unsettling. With its striking visuals, meticulous period detail, and haunting score, the film conjures an eerie, painterly world where the sins of the past literally come back to bite. Beneath the blood and fog lies a thoughtful allegory about greed and the gentry’s theft of land, lending the stylish horror a surprising moral weight and emotional resonance. Mark: 8 out of 11


The Curse of the Werewolf (1961)

Hammer’s The Curse of the Werewolf (1961), is anchored by a powerful, brooding performance from Oliver Reed in his breakout role. A staple of my childhood viewing, it’s a film that surprises with its thoughtful set-up—using its Spanish setting to critique class divisions while evoking real empathy for Reed’s tragic, cursed Wolfman. The gothic atmosphere and emotional depth elevate it above typical monster fare, and Warren Mitchell’s turn as a Spanish watchman adds an unexpected and delightful touch of humour amid the savage murders. Mark: 7.5 out of 11


Dog Soldiers (2002)

Neil Marshall’s Dog Soldiers (2002) is an absolute gem of British horror and easily one of my favourites of the genre. Set in the misty isolation of the Scottish Highlands, it combines gritty military camaraderie with ferocious werewolf mayhem to brilliant effect. Kevin McKidd, Sean Pertwee, and Liam Cunningham are all superb, grounding the film with sharp performances that balance humour, heart, and genuine terror. Funny, moving, bloody, and properly scary, Dog Soldiers is a masterclass in doing a lot with a little—its creature effects and atmosphere are astonishing given the budget. A true modern classic that respects the genre with intelligently terrifying monsters and the film still howls with lunar power. Mark: 10 out of 11



To be continued. . .

Cinema Review: After the Hunt (2025) – a compelling exploration of #MeToo and #Cancel Culture polemics!

Cinema Review: After the Hunt (2025)

Directed by Luca Guadagnino

Written by: Nora Garrett


Produced by: Brian Grazer, Allan Mandelbaum, Luca Guadagnino

Main Cast: Julia Roberts, Ayo Edebiri, Andrew Garfield, Michael Stuhlbarg, Chloë Sevigny, Thaddea Graham, etc.

Cinematography Malik Hassan Sayeed

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



After the Hunt (2025), the latest work from Luca Guadagnino, further cements the director’s reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s most assured chroniclers of morally fraught, emotionally layered human drama. Having already proven his commanding directorial touch with Call Me by Your Name (2017) and Challengers (2024), plus a superior-than-the-original Suspiria (2018), Guadagnino again, from an insightful screenplay by Nora Garrett, demonstrates an uncanny ability to draw out great performances and create a sense of first world suspense that feels both sensual and cerebral.

Set within the hallowed halls of Yale University, After the Hunt (2025) delves into the ramifications of power, privilege, and academic integrity when allegations of sexual assault surface against a lauded professor, played by Andrew Garfield. The film positions itself within a lineage of stories interrogating abuses of power within established and esteemed hierarchies — in much the same way that Doubt (2008) examined such tensions within the church, and Tár (2022) explored them in the rarefied world of classical music. Guadagnino’s film strives for a similar level of psychological and thematic complexity, exploring how institutional prestige and human frailties often shield misconduct and complicity.



The main drama arrives after a dinner party hosted by philosophy professor Alma Imhoff (Julia Roberts) and her psychiatrist husband, Frederik Imhoff (Michael Stuhlbarg). Also present at the party are Alma’s colleague and longtime friend Hank Gibson (Andrew Garfield), who is also up for tenure, and Alma’s star PhD student Maggie Resnick (Ayo Edebiri). After the party, Maggie accuses a drunken Hank of sexual assault after he walks her home. Alma finds herself caught between loyalty to her friend and colleague, her own desire for academic tenure and her obligation as mentor to Maggie. Meanwhile, Alma’s own secrets—her illness and a youthful relationship situation that occurred as a teenager—begin to surface.

What follows is an intriguing and quite gripping drama about a series of flawed characters who may or may not make, depending on your viewpoint, good, bad, or terrible decisions. The acting is absorbing from the ensemble led by Roberts, with Stuhlbarg and Chloe Sevigny being the resident scene stealers. I frequently found myself drawn into the story as it navigates socially and culturally challenging situations, notably the “she said-he said” assault accusation and aftermath. However, the screenplay occasionally falters, particularly in its middle act. Thus despite the thematic suspense the plot omission such as a lack of criminal enquiry, plus the moment in which Garfield’s character is abruptly dismissed without any formal inquiry undercuts the film’s credibility and emotional momentum. For a story concerned with systems of accountability and institutional procedure, this narrative oversight was difficult for me to overlook.

Even so, After the Hunt (2025) remains an engrossing and well-crafted drama that showcases Guadagnino’s continuing fascination with human pride, weakness and moral ambiguity. Adroitly, there are a number of cheeky nods to cancel culture with the Woody Allen font-style credits and Morrissey / The Smiths songs featuring on the soundtrack. Yet, overall, and perhaps due to a lack of a cathartic ending, the story may have worked better as a stage play. Ultimately, it may not wield the same searing power as Doubt (2008) or Tár (2022), but it stands as another testament to Guadagnino’s skill as a go-to director for mature, provocative, and emotionally intelligent cinema.

Mark: 7 out of 11


Cinema Review: Him (2025) – find blood, sweat, and meltdowns galore in this visceral NFL thriller!

Cinema Review: Him (2025)

Directed by Justin Tipping

Written by Skip Bronkie, Zack Akers & Justin Tipping

Produced by Jordan Peele, Win Rosenfeld, Ian Cooper & Jamal Watson

Main cast: Marlon Wayans, Tyriq Withers, Julia Fox, Tim Heidecker, Jim Jeffries, Maurice Greene etc.

Cinematography by Kira Kelly

** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS **



“In modern slang, “Him” is used to signify a person who is considered a standout or a “star” in their field, often in sports or entertainment.” — Google search result.


Him (2025) is a visually arresting and thematically potent descent into the underbelly of American athletic obsession — a pitch-black thriller that trades stadium lights for the strobe of psychological torment. Centered on Cameron “Cam” Cade, a young quarterback hungry to dethrone San Antonio Saviors’ reigning legend Isaiah White (a commanding Marlon Wayans), the film begins as a standard sports drama and swiftly morphs into something far darker. Director Justin Tipping captures the suffocating intensity of modern competition with a painter’s eye — sweat, blood, and neon collide in every frame, turning locker rooms and training fields into cathedrals of self-destruction.

As Cam endures Isaiah’s brutal “boot camp,” the film exposes the rot beneath the rhetoric of greatness. Fear, humiliation, and violence dominate the regimen, transforming mentorship into a form of ritualized hazing. Themes of steroid abuse, distorted masculinity, and father-son guilt weave through the story like poison veins. The omnipresence of social media — the constant surveillance, the demand for curated perfection — amplifies the claustrophobia. In its best moments, Him (2025) feels like a nightmarish hallucination of ambition, where performance and identity blur until nothing human remains.



Yet for all its kinetic power and aesthetic daring, Him (2025) stumbles when it comes to coherence. The screenplay rushes through emotional beats, failing to give its characters space to breathe or evolve. Key relationships and motivations are truncated by editing that favours rapid cuts over logic — the film’s pulse races, but its heart falters. The result is an experience that dazzles visually but feels narratively hollow, more like a hypnotic music video than a fully realized character study. Indeed, the ending drops the ball most of all. The nightmarish satire culminates in a bloodbath which, while visually powerful, feels like something more twisted and subtle would have served Cam’s character arc better.

Overall, there’s no denying Him (2025) and its impact as a cinematic spectacle, with Wayans and Withers delivering standout performances. Its imagery lingers — bodies breaking under fluorescent light, cheers warping into screams — as does its commentary on the performative nature of modern masculinity, crazy fan worship, monetization of athletes and sporting sacrifice. If only the script matched its visuals, Him (2025), might have stood shoulder to shoulder with the psychological thrillers it so clearly reveres.

Mark: 6.5 out of 11


Apple TV+ Film Review: Highest 2 Lowest (2025) – a vibrant, musical and pacy, if unnecessary, remake.

Apple TV+ Film Review: Highest 2 Lowest (2025)

Directed by Spike Lee

Screenplay by Alan Fox

Based on High and Low (1963 film) by Akira Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni,
Ryūzō Kikushima, Eijirō Hisaita, and King’s Ransom (1959 novel) by Ed McBain.


Produced by Todd Black and Jason Michael Berman

Main cast: Denzel Washington, Jeffrey Wright, Ilfenesh Hadera, ASAP Rocky, John Douglas Thompson , Dean Winters, LaChanze, Aubrey Joseph, etc.

Cinematography by Matthew Libatique



Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest (2025) is a kinetic, vividly modern reimagining of Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963), transplanting the Japanese master’s class-conscious thriller into the bustling, chaotic pulse of contemporary New York City. As expected from Lee, the film bursts with visual flair and political verve — the camera rarely rests, and the city itself becomes a character, glowing with heat, colour, and tension. The streets hum with energy, from glassy penthouses to subway platforms, creating a dynamic canvas on which the moral dilemmas unfold.

Denzel Washington, as usual, delivers a commanding performance as David King, a renowned independent producer and record label owner, torn between his conscience and his ambition when the kidnapping of his son occurs. Washington captures both the quiet torment and moral exhaustion of a man staring down the gulf between his privilege and his humanity. Jeffrey Wright, offers great support as his friend and chauffeur. The narrative navigates class and corporate tensions, bringing a soulful intelligence to every scene, grounding the film’s intensity with empathy and authority.



The film moves at a thrilling pace, carried by a propulsive soundtrack that fuses hip-hop, jazz, and gospel with Lee’s trademark flair for musical storytelling. Nowhere is this energy more palpable than in the ransom handover sequence — a masterclass in direction and editing — cutting feverishly across New York’s boroughs and metro trains, while the Puerto Rican Day Parade swells in a euphoric, near-operatic crescendo. It’s a breathtaking montage that exemplifies Lee’s command of rhythm, geography, and social texture. It proves to be Highest 2 Lowest (2025)’s biggest high.

Where Highest 2 Lowest (2025) falters is in the handling of its central moral crisis, which in turns undermines the all-to-rapid ending too. Indeed, it seemed to be missing a betrayal twist for me. The decision David King must make — the film’s spiritual core — arrives and resolves too swiftly around the midpoint, leaving the second half conflict, after the exhilarating Puerto Rican Day Parade, more focused on wrapping up loose ends quickly than psychological reckoning. It’s a missed opportunity for the deeper character study that Kurosawa’s original sustained so brilliantly.

Still, as an adaptation, Lee’s film is an entertaining piece of work — bold, stylish, and alive with the contradictions of the modern city. While Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963) remains the more compelling exploration of social class and moral responsibility, Highest 2 Lowest (2025) finds its own voice: vibrant, urgent, and unmistakably Spike Lee.

Mark: 7 out of 11


Cinema Review: The Smashing Machine (2025) – an authentic portrait of a MMA fighter that hits big!

Cinema Review: The Smashing Machine (2025)

Directed by Benny Safdie

Written by Benny Safdie

Based on documentary The Smashing Machine: The Life and Times of Extreme Fighter – Mark Kerr by John Hyams

Produced by Benny Safdie, Dwayne Johnson, Eli Bush, Hiram Garcia, Dany Garcia & David Koplan

Main cast: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas Rutten, Oleksandr Usyk etc.

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine (2025) is a bruising, compassionate, and unvarnished portrait of a man torn between physical dominance and emotional fragility. Centered on a three-year stretch (early 2000s) in the dramatic life of MMA pioneer Mark Kerr, the film captures both the bone-rattling intensity of the ring and the private turmoil of a fighter whose greatest battles unfold far from the crowd’s roar.

Dwayne Johnson delivers a revelatory performance as Kerr, casting aside his blockbuster charisma to reveal deep vulnerability and conflict. His portrayal is raw, unguarded, and humane—showing a man both addicted to the high of combat and trapped by the pain that follows. The film traces Kerr’s tumultuous relationship with Dawn Staples (played with nuance and sensitivity by Emily Blunt.) Together they find emotional truth in every scene, exploring the strain that MMA fighting, addiction, mental health, fear-of-losing, obsession and self-doubt place on intimacy.



The fight sequences are stunningly authentic, shot with kinetic immediacy and documentary realism. Safdie immerses the audience in the grit and chaos of early MMA, where glory was fleeting and paydays were meager compared to the sport’s modern era. Supporting performances from real fighters Ryan Bader and Oleksandr Usyk lend further credibility, grounding the film in the texture of lived experience.

Safdie’s direction is as intense and uncompromising as his subject. He resists the traditional rise-and-fall sports narrative, opting instead for a slice-of-life, near-documentary approach that prizes authenticity over heart-pounding drama. If the conflict surrounding Kerr’s addiction, rehab, and Dawn’s own mental health struggles feels under-explored, that restraint is also what makes the film feel so painfully real.

Inspired by the documentary, The Life and Times of Extreme Fighter – Mark Kerr by John Hyams, The Smashing Machine (2025) isn’t a conventional sports movie—it’s a portrait of survival, identity, addiction and the brutal intersection of ambition and vulnerability. Unflinching and deeply human, it cements Johnson’s performance as the best of his career, and confirms Safdie’s gift for finding poetry in the MMA fight scene. Ultimately, the film works best as a tribute to the trailblazing strength and passion of the fighter, Mark Kerr. The fight game is a crazy, tough business and it’s heartening to see, especially in the final scenes, that Kerr survived such battles and lived to breathe another day.

Mark: 8 out of 11