Werewolf

This movie does indeed stink a lot. However, that DOES NOT mean it isn't worth viewing. It's actually a hilarious romp through Flagstaff, Arizona. First off you have stars like Richard Lynch (Trancers II) and Joe Estevez (Beach Babes From Beyond), these guys are always great in B-movies like this one!

The dialogue is insane and the special effects are ridiculous - is that really supposed to be a werewolf? I think it looks more like a bear that lived on Endor and got beat by a bunch of Ewoks with traffic cones.

Anyhow, the real gem here is the character portrayed by R.C. Bates (Bad Girls) known as "Sam the Keeper". Sam's job is to watch over the house where are main character lives. Not since the movie "Fletch" has the silver screen been graced by a more hilarious watchman.

Sam's is one goofy guy - he looks like Santa Claus/Jerry Garcia dressed up in camo carrying a shotgun "just to keep the flies down". He's a lovable goof and every scene he's in you'll find yourself hitting rewind to hear him deliver his goofy lines over and over. He even calls Count Dracula a faggot - but you don't need to believe him, "cause that's the facts!"

Sam the Keeper makes this movie a must see. Good out and rent it! Invite a couple friends over, order some pizza, and laugh away.

It should be noted that my friends and I thought this movie was so funny that I should have been on MST3K when we first saw it years ago... well, there is a sense of justice out there, because it did end up being on MST3k and boy, that was a good episode.

R.C. Bates forever!!!

Saw this one recently with some friends who have an ironic love of truly terrible movies, and in that context, it was just the ticket. It was a double feature with "Satanik," a 1968 Italian piece of junk that was just as bad but at least had a hot Eurobabe as the killer. Both flicks were made by the absolutely untalented, and can be watched only by dedicated students of bad film.

In a "climactic" scene in "Werewolf," the title critter kills a man apparently without touching him, or even being in the same general area. We repeatedly cut back and forth between shots of the werewolf going RARRR, and of the victim crossing his arms in front of his face (again and again), in a posture of defense. Finally, the bloodied victim drops to the ground. At no time do both the werewolf AND the victim appear in this scene together. It's as though the two "actors" involved couldn't coordinate their table-waiting schedules in such a way as to be both on the set on the same day. We all looked around at each other and said, "What just happened?"

See it for laughs, if this sort of bad flickage is your idea of fun. Otherwise, flee like a Texas Democrat.

Believe it or not, this film starts out pretty promisingly. A team of archaeologists working on a dig in Arizona unearth the skeleton of a bipedal wolf creature. The Native American diggers are instantly suspicious, claiming that these are the remains of a Skinwalker. When one of them is struck with the skull during a fight, the gash becomes infected and the man begins to change into a living, breathing werewolf running amok in a hospital!

This could have been a good little film. But it lacks a decent script...and good actors...and a coherent storyline and convincing special effects and...well, it lacks more than it has. The plot (what there is of it) consists of an Andy Garcia lookalike taking FOREVER to transform into a wolfman, and a bodybuilding dork who runs around injecting random people with werewolf juice for no apparent reason whatsoever. There's also a redheaded love interest with the face of a rabbit and the personality of a coat hangar who loves the wolf and is pursued by the dork. Richard Lynch is here too as the head of the archaeology department, though the writer of this mess apparently had no idea what to do with his character and has Lynch wander around in search of something to do or say. Joe Estevez disappears with no explanation after the first half hour and is replaced with Sam the Keeper, an aging hippie/militia man who is far scarier than the werewolf proves to be.

This movie is just a total mess. Avoid it at all costs.

Thrill to the harpsichord music in the pool hall scene! Wonder at our heroine's ability to abuse English syntax and pronunciation! Tremble as the "wuur-wilves" grow wispy hair extensions and don animal puppet heads before striking! Shudder from exposure to the looney militant caretaker! Cackle as the greedy and inexplicably violent archaeologist's hair style and color spontaneously change from scene to scene! And don't miss Charlie Sheen's uncle's critical role as an itinerant site-digger.

Let's face it -- the only way to watch this dud is with the Mystery Science Theater 3000 crew lambasting it. Richard Lynch, ordinarily a good character actor, must have really been hurting financially to allow himself to be seen (and wasted) in this were-dog of a movie. Other favorite parts of mine include the hero turning off a radio, abruptly ending the annoying spooky soundtrack, and (in the MST3K version) Mike and the 'Bots' sing-along variations on the end theme.

I've seen some good werewolf movies in my time. "An American Werewolf in London", "The Wolf Man" and "The Howling" are among my favorites (and, incidentally, some of the better examples of the genre).

And then we get to "Werewolf", which seems to be the cinematic equivalent of a really bad train wreck. Up until I had seen this beauty, "Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf" was the worst movie about lycantropy I had ever witnessed.

Even the synopsis is bad: archaeologists dig up a skeleton of a werewolf and when people get cut on it, they turn into werewolves!

Kids, I won't lie to you...this movie stinks in every conceivable way you could imagine. The actors have so many different accents among them you'd think this was a co-production with the League of Nations. There are about ten (that I noticed) different versions of about, say, four werewolves in the whole movie. The director has absolutely no sense of how to set up a scene - scary, introductory, dramatic, what-have-you (a werewolf transformation gets up-staged by a mural in a bar? Yeah, just what I was thinking).

There are pretty women to ogle at, though. Whether or not they can act is a moot point, I suppose, but they talk about "fussinading" things, scream with what sounds like three voice boxes and type letters while pantsless.

But in the end, this is about as sorry an excuse for a werewolf (or "wahrwilf", or "wherwalf" or whatever) film I've seen in my life. Yep, it's bad; as bad as a truckload of dirty gym clothes. Bad like those ties way back in your closet. Bad like a Pauly Shore retrospective. Bad like getting gyros from an Italian restaurant.

Break out the silver bullets, wolfsbane, crucifixes and everything else for this flick!

No stars for "Werewolf" - the worst werewolf movie ever featuring Joe Estevez.

TIDBIT - victims of lycantropy should NEVER drive.