Full Eclipse (1993)

“The Wolfman.” “The Howling.” “An American Werewolf in London.” “Dog Soldiers.” “Ginger Snaps.” These are but a few classic werewolf films to grace the silver screen since the dawn of film. All of them had style, mood, atmosphere, intrigue, and finesse that catapulted them into the stratosphere. All of them were missing one key ingredient, however, to put them on the map as the greatest of all time. They were all missing Mario Van Peebles.

“Full Eclipse” has Mario Van Peebles, in the lead role no less, yet it surprisingly isn’t the greatest film of all time. It even has a premise that seemingly can’t be flubbed. A select group of Los Angeles police officers are injected with a serum that gives them the abilities of a werewolf. It brings them back from the dead, makes them nearly invincible, and skyrockets razor sales in the community. This makes the officers the ultimate defense in wiping out crime in the city.

And yet, “Full Eclipse” is lackluster. Not terrible, mind you, just very vanilla. It’s a run-of-the-mill crime actioner with werewolves thrown into the mix. Except that the werewolves aren’t as impactful as one would expect. Rarely do the cops transform completely, either growling (like a cheetah for some reason) and leaping tall bounds in their human form and occasionally sprouting fangs and claws to dice through criminals with. This does make sense, as a majority of the action takes place during the day and/or not during a full moon, so a full transformation wouldn’t suffice. The writers, Richard Christian Matheson & Michael Reaves, could’ve gotten around this by having the serum give the officers the ability to transform at will. It wouldn’t have been too tacky seeing how it gives them immediate healing factors and the ability to don claws and fangs at will.

The real reason for the lack of werewolf makeup is a minimal budget. “Full Eclipse” was made for HBO and, while boasting slick production values, it had to scrimp on the special effects. When we finally do see a full-blown transformation, it’s rather chintzy. Therefore, we’re left with adequately framed action set pieces. There are shootouts in night clubs and on the streets, as well as an intense drive-by. Said drive-by is the only unique action set piece, as it has one of the newly minted werecops hopping on the back of a perp’s motorcycle and crashing them both into a brick wall, causing a massive explosion (naturally). The werecop emerges from the flames unscathed and the denizens of Los Angeles are too smug to even notice. I initially questioned why the werecops weren’t acting subtly, but I guess there’s no need to.

That werecop is Jim Sheldon (Anthony John Denison), partner to our hero, Max Dire (Mario Van Peebles). And yes, Max Dire is his actual name. My friend grew tired of my constant dire puns throughout the film, but can you blame me? I’m surprised his partner wasn’t called Jim Grim, and even more surprised nobody in the film made the lousy puns that I did. For shame! Anyhow, Jim is gearing up for marriage and retirement, which means he’s going to die. And die he does, only to be brought back to life via the werewolf serum. He celebrates by performing the aforementioned motorcycle stunt, then puts a silver bullet through his brains later that night. When you vow to retire in a cop thriller, you will die one way or another.

Max is understandably confused by all of this, though Mario Van Peebles doesn’t quite show that in his performance. He always comes across as mildly perturbed no matter the situation. Partner dies, comes back to life, acts superhuman, and then shoots himself? Act mildly perturbed. You get shot through the heart and then are forcefully given the werewolf serum you’ve been protesting? Act mildly perturbed. Receive your check for starring in a made-for-TV werewolf flick? Laugh all the way to the bank. Mario does a fine job of dispensing charm into his role, but he’s given no direction by Anthony Hickox in how to handle the more dramatic elements. He’s simply here to snarl, shoot guns, look good in a suit, and charm the pants off of everyone.

Not helping “Full Eclipse” is the lack of a strong villain. There’s a dispensable mobster who acts as a target for the werecops. He’s so disposable that his name escapes me, so I’ll just refer to him as Mobster McGee. And that’s the only time I’ll refer to him, as he takes a backseat to the true villain, Adam Garou (Bruce Payne). He is the one responsible for recruiting the werecops and in orchestrating their attacks. It comes as no surprise that he’s corrupt as Payne’s performance spells it out for us. No good man gets into the fetal position on a chair whilst listening to his headphones unless that man is pining for his long-lost love. Garou does this randomly, which means he’s evil.

I wouldn’t call “Full Eclipse” boring, but it’s certainly underwhelming. It presents a tremendous premise, only to barely do anything with it. It’s a decent at best crime actioner and a lame werewolf flick. At least Mario Van Peebles looks good in a suit.

MVT: The action sequences. They’re framed well and, while rudimentary, fulfill their purpose and are slightly entertaining. That motorcycle stunt was fascinating.

Make or Break: The concept as a whole. It’s unique enough to keep one’s interest, but also not explored enough to be of great interest. Mileage may vary on how long it’ll keep your interest.

Final Score: 5.25/10

Full Eclipse (1993)

Back in the 70s, Marvel Comics started grinding out horror-themed books (so did DC and other publishers, but they’re not our focus here).  They had published stories featuring monsters previously in titles like Tales to Astonish back in the 50s/60s, but the vast majority of those tales were focused on giant creatures, either manmade or alien-spawned (including the introduction of everybody’s favorite monosyllabic tree, Groot).  The plots also tended to be very formulaic, following the atom-age, science fiction tropes of the 50s.  This conservative approach to the genre was largely a result of the implementation of the Comics Code Authority, which tied the hands of creators and publishers alike (the impetus for the Authority and all that entails is really a subject for a much longer essay, though there has already been more than enough ink spilled about it, and you should be able to get the whole picture on that with just a few mouse clicks).

At any rate, the Code was loosened a bit in the 70s, and monsters like vampires and zombies were now allowed so long as they were “handled in the classic tradition.”  Up popped titles such as Monster of Frankenstein and Tomb of Dracula.  Taking their cues from the loosening of societal norms and the increased interest in things occult, characters like the Son of Satan and Ghost Rider soon emerged into the spotlight, as well as the even more unorthodox Man-Thing (a concept at once both a throwback to monster books of the past as well as [thanks, in my opinion, largely to writer Steve Gerber] a commentary on modern society and its ills).  Of course, all of this is a roundabout way to touch on the lycanthropic character of Jack Russell (get it?), who made his first appearance in a feature called Werewolf by Night in Marvel Spotlight #2 (he would graduate to his own eponymous title in short order).  The character was tragic in the way that most werewolf characters are tragic, but the creators (including Gerry Conway and Mike Ploog) managed to tie in not only mystical themes (with artifacts like the Darkhold Scrolls) but also superheroes, with everyone from Tigra to Spider-Man interacting at some point or another with Jack and company.  Naturally, this book and its brethren were like Pixie Sticks (read: retro-crack) to a young me, with its amalgamation of monsters and superheroics, and it’s this same flavor that initially interested me in Anthony Hickox’s Full Eclipse.

Max Dire (as in “dire wolf,” and played with granite inscrutability by Mario Van Peebles) is a tough cop who doesn’t follow the rules but knows how to get the job done.  After his partner Jimmy (Tony Denison) makes a miraculous recovery from life-threatening wounds but then starts displaying alarming preternatural abilities, Max encounters Adam Garou (as in “loup garou,” and played with granite inscrutability by Bruce Payne), the man behind it all.  Recognizing Max’s potential, Adam indoctrinates the young man into his personal army of werewolf cops, theoretically in order to wipe out crime.  But is the price of justice too high?

According to this movie, the short answer to that question is “no.”  Full Eclipse uses the classic set up of a cop who is good at heart but unorthodox in approach being tempted to move completely outside the system in order to clean up the streets.  Max is the sort of cop who will storm a hostage situation solo, plunge through a ventilation shaft, and take out the baddies using the twin .45s he brandishes (something I always like to think is in homage to characters like The Shadow, but we all know is actually in imitation of filmmakers like John Woo [though maybe Woo is homaging The Shadow?  Hmmmmm……]).  For however much of a rogue Max is, he still abides (somewhat) by the law.  Nevertheless, Adam and his crew are attractive to Max for several reasons.  One, they get rid of criminals permanently.  Two, they have more physical power than normal men.  Three, they are sexy (in fact, part of the reason Max gets involved with them at all is because Casey (Patsy Kensit) seduces him).  Naturally, all three of these reasons are also attractive to a great many male audience members (and some female audience members, I’m sure), thus there’s a strong inclination to identify with max and his dilemma in a wish fulfillment way.  The basic conflict of the film is posited as whether the ends justify the means, but this is also something which the filmmakers lose sight of as they go along, and by the fade out, they wind up negating almost the entirety of the film that came before it.  Without saying too much, this is the type of film that, even while it is trying to subvert expectations is also completely bowing to them.

What’s interesting about Adam and his pack is that they are scientifically manufactured werewolves.  This intermeshing of science fiction and monsters is another callback to my beloved Marvel horror comics (with characters like Morbius the Living Vampire) as well as 50s science fiction films like Them! and Tarantula.  Between this and the superhero aspects (they wear uniforms like costumes with a tiny bit of variety in color and design to distinguish them from each other, normal human weapons are generally ineffective against them, they even grow awkward knuckle-claws like Wolverine from The X-Men), if this film isn’t a love letter to comic books, I don’t know what is.  And like many comic book characters, Full Eclipse’s wolf powers come with a price.  The monster cops are essentially junkies.  They have to shoot up with Adam’s serum in order to kickstart their powers, and they have to continue to shoot up in order to maintain them (and their health in general).  This power is not something with which every character can successfully cope, and it causes burnout and self-destruction in some.  As Nietzsche said, “Beware that, when fighting monsters you yourself do not become a monster…for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”  This all relates back to the film’s primary question.  Is the risk worth the reward?  The audience knows the answer to this.  The film acts like it knows the answer to this.  But ultimately, it either truly doesn’t or it truly doesn’t care about it, because Hickox and company wanted to have their cake and eat it, too.  So, rather than being satisfying or unsatisfying on its own terms and based on the decisions its creators made, the film frustrates to some degree by trying to be both moralistic and cynical.  It’s still watchable for its individual elements, but damned if I can’t shake the feeling that it might not have been worth the effort and time spent.

MVT:  The action sequences are very well shot and edited (again, owing much to the then-popular genre films coming out of Hong Kong), with lots of gunshots, explosions, and slow motion keeping the excitement level cranked up high.

Make or Break:  Jimmy’s big action set piece works astonishingly well, in spite of (okay, maybe because of) its more ridiculous aspects (we’re talking tall fence leaping and bus surfing, amongst other things).  Even though the film’s script doesn’t stick the landing in the end, at least the action sequences do.

Score:  6.5/10