Universal Pictures’s attempts to breathe new life into their classic monsters have been a mixed bag. For every thoughtful reinvention like The Invisible Man (2020), there are misfires such as The Mummy (2017). Leigh Whannell, who helmed the former, was given the reins to Wolf Man with high expectations. Unfortunately, the result feels less like a passion project and more like a half-hearted contribution to Blumhouse’s recent conveyor belt of middling horror films.
At its core, Wolf Man reimagines the 1941 Lon Chaney Jr. classic but narrows its focus. The film centers on Blake (Christopher Abbott), a struggling writer and father grappling with unresolved trauma. Alongside his distant wife Charlotte (Julia Garner) and their young daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth), Blake heads to his father’s remote Oregon farmhouse to settle affairs after his father’s mysterious disappearance years prior. The trip is an opportunity for the family to reconnect, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the encroaching presence of a feral threat—and eventually, the curse that begins to transform Blake into something monstrous.
The film’s opening act hints at a richer, more layered narrative. Flashbacks to Blake’s childhood show his domineering, survivalist father (Sam Jaeger) dragging him into the wilderness, weaving in tantalizing threads of folklore and psychological drama. Albeit the lore here is light and vaguely hints at an established indiginous lore that the film leaves behind quickly. This dynamic sets the stage for a Leave No Trace-esque exploration of generational trauma framed by supernatural horror. But just as the film begins to build momentum, it abruptly shifts to the present, abandoning its initial intrigue for a bland home-invasion plot.
Blake’s transformation begins with a werewolf attack after the family’s van crashes near the farmhouse. From there, the narrative devolves into a repetitive cycle of poorly paced tension, predictable scares, and lackluster family drama. Whannell, who masterfully crafted suspense in The Invisible Man, seems to lose his grip here, leaning on Blumhouse’s formulaic tropes rather than his own strengths.
One of the film’s most glaring issues is its uninspired character work. Blake’s internal struggle—trying not to become his father while wrestling with his monstrous transformation—is compelling in theory but underdeveloped on screen. Abbott, known for introspective performances in indie dramas like Sanctuary, brings some emotional depth to the role but falters when the story demands visceral ferocity. His portrayal of Blake as a guilt-ridden father never quite clicks with the primal intensity needed for the role.
Meanwhile, Julia Garner’s Charlotte is a glaring weak link. Her character is saddled with clichéd dialogue and a lack of agency, reduced to a passive observer of Blake’s descent. Garner’s typically magnetic screen presence is inexplicably absent, leaving the strained marital dynamic devoid of chemistry or emotional resonance. Even young Matilda Firth, as their daughter Ginger, is given little to do beyond serving as a convenient plot device.
The original Wolf Man thrived on gothic atmosphere and thematic depth, weaving a tale of isolation and desperation against a richly textured backdrop. Whannell’s version trades this for murky cinematography and a muted color palette that drains the film of visual identity. The Oregon wilderness, which could have been a hauntingly beautiful setting, is underutilized, reduced to a generic backdrop for jump scares.
The creature design, while commendable in its use of practical effects, feels uninspired. Blake’s gradual transformation lacks the visceral horror and tragic beauty of classic werewolf lore, opting instead for a generic demonic aesthetic. The film’s refusal to embrace its supernatural roots—no silver bullets, no full moons—further dilutes its identity. This might have been forgivable had Whannell offered a compelling reinvention, but the narrative’s pedestrian approach leaves little room for innovation.
Wolf Man had the potential to follow in the footsteps of The Invisible Man, balancing modern relevance with classic horror elements. Instead, it feels like a wasted opportunity. The film’s exploration of fatherhood and generational trauma is surface-level, offering no new insights or emotional impact. Its attempts at suspense are undermined by a formulaic structure, and its thematic aspirations are drowned out by an overbearing focus on family melodrama.
Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man is a misstep for a filmmaker who has proven capable of blending character-driven storytelling with inventive horror. What should have been a bold reinvention of a classic instead feels like a bland, uninspired retread, bogged down by formulaic writing and underwhelming performances. As Universal continues to resurrect its monster catalog, one can only hope future entries will learn from this film’s missteps and rediscover the bite that made these creatures iconic in the first place.
2/5
Comments