OneMetal.com REVIEW:
The Wolfman

Universal Pictures’ The Wolfman, starring the likes of Anthony Hopkins and Hugo Weaving, reboots the 1941 horror flick. Joe Johnston directs a remake dripping with wolfishly good action. Too bad the movie stutters over beastly romance that perfectly complements your sugary Valentine’s Day memories.

I craned my neck to absorb the breadth of the movie screen—an inconvenience that opening day’s limited seating and lonely front row availability guaranteed—and as I watched the rushing colors and headache-inducing action that made my eyes cross, I couldn’t help but smile just as much as I cringed. Despite whether you’ve witnessed the original film, 2010′s The Wolfman splays like a guts-and-brains mess. Lawrence Talbot (Benicio Del Toro), whose brother Ben recently tangled with a fabled werewolf creature and wound up dead and gross, returns to his home estate where his aloof father, Sir John (Anthony Hopkins), resides. Ben’s widow and beast whisperer, Gwen Conliffe (Emily Blunt), returns from London and mournfully gathers her late husband’s effects, but when Lawrence announces his oath to avenge his brother’s demise by seeking whatever or whoever went Picasso with his innards, she sticks around, apparently.

Never let go, Lawrence. Never let go.

Besides several humorous or lustrous lines uttered by Hopkins or Weaving, the movie’s dialogue vomits cliches and frank idiocy. Lawrence and Gwen share an asinine romance. Logically, Gwen would show more respect for her rotting husband, and Lawrence would finally make good on that “I missed his whole life” thing and stop drooling over his sister-in-law. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. Maybe the two brain-damaged lovebirds have been lugging around a library’s worth of romantic history dog-eared with sexual tension, but the audience could care less. We squished ourselves into uncomfortable metal seats for preposterous monster action, dammit, not defunct courtship that makes wolfmen blush.

The Wolfman demonstrates a kindergartner’s proficiency in suspenseful frights. Del Toro dons his worst shocked face more than once, the additional “scares” coax laughter, and obligatory werewolf howls and beast fights dribble predictable movie bits all over the screen. As soon as the ending neared, its failure couldn’t be diverted off the slippery tracks that lead away from innovation.

Come on. We all know what Hide and Seek with the Wolfman really leads to.

Surprisingly, the film engraves more than a few memorable slash marks into our soft human brains. The Wolfman earns some respect for actually boasting its full-figure monster designs instead of always resorting to grey, furry blurs. The creative gruesome and gory deaths strike class into an otherwise disfigured Hollywood movie, and one particular sequence totally engrossed my senses. The visuals, whether filled with cool Gothic paraphernalia or exhibiting painful creature transformations, definitely saved the movie from a wasteful status. The soundtrack (Danny Elfman) even accomplishes the occasional intriguing note before fizzling into background noise again.

The movie should have locked itself in a purely visual and lore-harnessed cage, but it does pass as a decent rental. If only Valentine’s Day hadn’t gushed all over The Wolfman.

Bottom Line

Bones snap and stomachs burst in this visually accelerate movie, but audiences will yawn over the worst romantic couple of the year and trip over the many frustrating cliches. Hopkins and Weaving perform brilliantly under poor conditions, but they can only stitch up so much of Del Toro's and Blunt's weak characters. Tame enough to be enjoyable, The Wolfman ultimately treads over familiar and tired werewolf cinema.