On January 17, 2025, Universal Pictures releases 'Wolf Man', which has received a mixed reception from critics, currently holding at 61% on Rotten Tomatoes at the time of this writing. "From Blumhouse and visionary writer-director Leigh Whannell, the creators of the chilling modern monster tale The Invisible Man, comes a terrifying new lupine nightmare: Wolf Man. Golden Globe nominee Christopher Abbott (Poor Things, It Comes at Night) stars as Blake, a San Francisco husband and father, who inherits his remote childhood home in rural Oregon after his own father vanishes and is presumed dead. With his marriage to his high-powered wife, Charlotte (Emmy winner Julia Garner; Ozark, Inventing Anna), fraying, Blake persuades Charlotte to take a break from the city and visit the property with their young daughter, Ginger (Matlida Firth; Hullraisers, Coma). But as the family approaches the farmhouse in the dead of night, they're attacked by an unseen animal and, in a desperate escape, barricade themselves inside the home as the creature prowls the perimeter. As the night stretches on, however, Blake begins to behave strangely, transforming into something unrecognizable, and Charlotte will be forced to decide whether the terror within their house is more lethal than the danger without." But what did the critics say?
Seth Katz of Slant Magazine says, "After such high-profile flops as 2010’s The Wolfman and 2017’s The Mummy, the latter of which failed to launch Universal Pictures’s intended Dark Universe franchise, came a rare standout amid the studio’s ongoing project of rebooting its classic horror movies: Leigh Wannell’s The Invisible Man, which reframed the 1933 film (based on H.G. Wells’s novel) as an extreme case of stalking and gaslighting. While this ostensibly feminist spin on the story earned the film some appreciation, its pointed topicality was less compelling than Wannell’s masterful orchestration of suspense and, during the middle stretch, use of a single location. Following that success, Wannell has been given the reins to Wolf Man, nominally based on the 1941 version with Lon Chaney Jr. that, along with its sequels, proved to be one of the most influential entries in Universal’s monster cycle. As with The Invisible Man, there isn’t much tying this new version to the original other than the title. In fact, Wolf Man retains almost none of the well-known lore around the werewolf. There’s nothing here about the full moon or a silver-handled cane, nor is the word “werewolf” even used. The most familiar and predictable notion is that someone who’s wounded by a werewolf and survives will become one." Adding, "The theme gets muddled here, though, as the film contrasts Grady’s stern parenting with Blake’s gentler approach, with the idea being—as the infection takes hold—that he’s trying not to turn into his father. Third-act revelations telegraphed within the first few minutes are treated as big surprises as Wannell struggles to overcome the obviousness of his story construction. More confounding, the wolfman design is more generally demonic than specifically lupine. Blake’s transformation—which for some reason sees him going bald even as his body hair grows—occurs gradually rather than recurrently, and the use of special makeup effects is convincing. Yet the film misses out on the rich gothic atmosphere traditionally mined for this genre, opting instead for murky compositions and a self-serious tone that robs the proceedings of any potential fun. Wolf Man neither embraces the fundamentals of the werewolf folklore from which it draws nor convincingly reinvents them, landing instead in somber, predictable territory, dully satisfied with a few cheap jump scares and a perfunctory nod to thematic resonance."
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| Photo by Jared Murray on Unsplash |
Matt Oakes of
Silver Screen Riot notes, "Much of what makes Wolf Man effective is its economy. The story revolves primarily around the family trio, with only a handful of minor characters appearing along the outskirts. This tight focus works in the film’s favor, creating an intimacy that amplifies the tension and the tragedy. As Blake shares with Charlotte after his father’s death, “I realized that you’re all the family I have left.” But like a rabid dog, friend and foe become indiscernible under the confusing spell of instinctual violence. Whannell roots much of the emerging terror in this family’s isolation, underscoring how small their world becomes—trapped in the woods, far from their city life—as they are stalked by a beast that once sought only to protect them. This theme of inverted instinct is mirrored in Blake’s transformation, where his primal instincts threaten to consume the connections he’s dying to preserve. Wolf Man suffers from being a little too tidy, its narrative edges smoothed to a fault, and its mythology only faintly sketched. While there are nods to deeper lore—such as an introductory title card invoking an obligatory Native American legend—the film never fully commits to weaving these elements into its DNA. The result is a climax that feels restrained when it could have been explosive, leaving a lingering sense that Wolf Man is content to stop just shy of greatness. The ending, while thematically consistent with the film’s balance of heart and horror, resolves too neatly, missing the kind of raw emotional devastation that might have elevated it into a modern classic. Nevertheless, Whannell’s craftsmanship and clear affection for the material shine through, making Wolf Man a thoroughly satisfying thrill ride that doesn’t shortchange its own internal logic or well-established melodrama. It’s a chilling fable about being unable to protect your family from the forces of the world — from both external threats and the internal forces that pull us apart. And, like a derelict pickup truck, while it may not quite shift into the next gear, it’s a worthy, thoughtful addition to Universal’s monster movie canon and a compelling argument that the wolfman still has plenty of bite."
Emma Kiely of Collider writes, "What makes the majority of Wolf Man such a disappointment is the first twenty minutes. The opening act promises a far more interesting tale than the one we eventually get. The insight into Blake’s childhood is a Leave No Trace-type story, blending horror mythology with tense human drama. But just when the film starts garnering steam, it skips 30 years, and the whole story falls into the same, repetitive trappings of the latest Blumhouse fare. A family of half-written characters who, in an attempt to come closer together, find themselves in the crosshairs of a waking nightmare. Blumhouse yet again promises a horror experience like no other only to serve up a boring, contrived family drama that lacks scares and hammers home the importance of the all-American family unit."
