I read all the comments that complained about this movie not being wildly innovative and original. So I did some checking. And you know what? It turns out they were right. It seems there actually have been werewolf movies made before.
But it seems to me that those brilliant and learned film aficionados would have gone into the multiplex expecting to see something at least vaguely familiar. Why then were so many smartypants film buffs disappointed that this movie had so much in common with previous efforts based on the same story? Maybe they were expecting some tragically comic overacting like Gary Oldman in FFC's Dracula. Maybe they wanted to see another campy throwaway rehash of a Lon Chaney Jr. b-movie. What a pity. There was so much more to see.
First of all, what a treat it was to see actual actors in the movie. Little needs to be said about Sir Anthony Hopkins. His icy, reptilian portrayals of villains are legendary, and he does not disappoint here. I'm not a huge Emily Blunt fan, but her range and beauty are pleasing grace notes in everything she does. And Hugo Weaving? How many more times does he have to hit it out of the park before he finally gets the recognition he deserves?
But I, for one, went to see this movie for one reason. Benicio Del Toro. And I was not disappointed, although I was mildly surprised. Del Toro has just the right blend of handsome charm and animal presence to be convincing. His portrayal, while subtly understated, is also powerfully nuanced. The surprise was how well the diverse talents in the movie melded into an ensemble. Oh, so tasty.
The coup de grâce, however, is also the one thing that probably spoils this movie for most viewers. It finally takes a literary approach to what was once, and now is once again, a towering and epic literary tragedy, rather than a campy life support system for meaningless computer-generated special effects. Using Rick Baker was a stroke of genius. His masterful use of prosthetics and physical transformations gifted this movie with an elegance and immediacy so lacking in generations of poseur imitators.
Freed from the usual addiction to hokey visual effects, the movie is able to develop, with subtlety and sophistication, the tragic richness of the story. True literary tragedy depends on one simple premise. The tragic character must fall from grace, by no fault of his own, due to his inherent character flaw. The tragic character must ultimately be a victim, and his fall must be inevitable.
Our protagonist's path was determined long before he arrived on the moors. As he struggles heroically to overcome his own destiny, we witness the inevitability of his demise. This is the sine qua non of literary tragedy. Even American Werewolf in London got this right, deliciously and hilariously right, in fact, and this film is fraught with allusions to AWIL and other classics.
The cinematography is beautiful. The score is brooding, and not nearly as derivative as it might have been. I am so glad that Danny Elfman's score was reinstated. Elfman can do no wrong. Joe Jonhson's direction is at once effortless and masterful.
In short, if you are looking for a special effects cesspool like Twilight, stay home. If you want to see how a Gothic literary classic comes to life in the twenty-first century, this is your film.
But it seems to me that those brilliant and learned film aficionados would have gone into the multiplex expecting to see something at least vaguely familiar. Why then were so many smartypants film buffs disappointed that this movie had so much in common with previous efforts based on the same story? Maybe they were expecting some tragically comic overacting like Gary Oldman in FFC's Dracula. Maybe they wanted to see another campy throwaway rehash of a Lon Chaney Jr. b-movie. What a pity. There was so much more to see.
First of all, what a treat it was to see actual actors in the movie. Little needs to be said about Sir Anthony Hopkins. His icy, reptilian portrayals of villains are legendary, and he does not disappoint here. I'm not a huge Emily Blunt fan, but her range and beauty are pleasing grace notes in everything she does. And Hugo Weaving? How many more times does he have to hit it out of the park before he finally gets the recognition he deserves?
But I, for one, went to see this movie for one reason. Benicio Del Toro. And I was not disappointed, although I was mildly surprised. Del Toro has just the right blend of handsome charm and animal presence to be convincing. His portrayal, while subtly understated, is also powerfully nuanced. The surprise was how well the diverse talents in the movie melded into an ensemble. Oh, so tasty.
The coup de grâce, however, is also the one thing that probably spoils this movie for most viewers. It finally takes a literary approach to what was once, and now is once again, a towering and epic literary tragedy, rather than a campy life support system for meaningless computer-generated special effects. Using Rick Baker was a stroke of genius. His masterful use of prosthetics and physical transformations gifted this movie with an elegance and immediacy so lacking in generations of poseur imitators.
Freed from the usual addiction to hokey visual effects, the movie is able to develop, with subtlety and sophistication, the tragic richness of the story. True literary tragedy depends on one simple premise. The tragic character must fall from grace, by no fault of his own, due to his inherent character flaw. The tragic character must ultimately be a victim, and his fall must be inevitable.
Our protagonist's path was determined long before he arrived on the moors. As he struggles heroically to overcome his own destiny, we witness the inevitability of his demise. This is the sine qua non of literary tragedy. Even American Werewolf in London got this right, deliciously and hilariously right, in fact, and this film is fraught with allusions to AWIL and other classics.
The cinematography is beautiful. The score is brooding, and not nearly as derivative as it might have been. I am so glad that Danny Elfman's score was reinstated. Elfman can do no wrong. Joe Jonhson's direction is at once effortless and masterful.
In short, if you are looking for a special effects cesspool like Twilight, stay home. If you want to see how a Gothic literary classic comes to life in the twenty-first century, this is your film.