If you've seen any of Paul Naschy's other 'hombre lobo' films, you probably have a pretty good idea of what to expect from The Werewolf and the Yeti—schlocky dialogue, hammy acting, Naschy once again sporting terrible wolf make-up, some sexy Euro-totty, and a bit of unrealistic bright-red gore. In short, a fun slice of very silly Spanish monster madness.
One can only presume, therefore, that it must have been one hell of a slow day at the office when the BBFC/DPP decided to stick The Werewolf and the Yeti on the Official Nasties list: the film has its unsavoury moments, as do most horror films, but there's nothing to warrant it being lumped with likes of genuinely disturbing flicks such as Cannibal Holocaust, Faces of Death and Gestapo's Last Orgy. Any violence or sadism in The Werewolf and the Yeti is handled in such a camp manner that it's almost impossible to take offence at.
Take the flaying of sexy young scientist Melody (the gorgeous Verónica Miriel) by evil bitch Wandessa (Silvia Solar), for example: the effects are so cheap and unrealistic that one cannot help but find the scene amusing, no matter how repulsive the idea. Likewise, the sight of one of the scientists impaled on a wooden stake (ala Cannibal Holocaust) is rendered laughable by the fact that he is not only still alive, but also capable of holding a conversation with our hero.
Also providing mucho unintentional chuckles: the scene where Naschy kills a pair of semi-naked werewolf/vampire/witch women (but only after having sex with them both, of course); the ridiculous fight between Naschy and dermatologically challenged bandit/warlord Sekkar Khan (Luis Induni); and the rousing finale, in which our hero, transformed into a drooling beast by the full moon, rescues his love Sylvia (Mercedes Molina) from the abominable snowman.
It's all utter nonsense, not at all scary and certainly not nasty enough to deserve being banned, but still worth a go if you're in the mood for a bit of a giggle.
