Wolf Man, 2025.
Directed by Leigh Whannell.
Starring Christopher Abbott, Julia Garner, Matilda Firth, Sam Jaeger, Ben Prendergast, Benedict Hardie, Zac Chandler, Beatriz Romilly, and Milo Cawthorne.
SYNOPSIS:
A family at a remote farmhouse is attacked by an unseen animal, but as the night stretches on, the father begins to transform into something unrecognizable.
While father Grady (Sam Jaeger) and young son Blake (played by Christopher Abbott as an adult following the prologue) are hunting in the Oregon woods, his wisdom is that “dying is the easiest thing to do,” seemingly toughening his boy up mentally and physically to be prepared for anything life throws at him. That’s also a piece of philosophy from the toxic masculinity playbook, with Grady also obsessed with hunting down a man rumored to have contracted a disease resulting in animalistic characteristics, which perhaps isn’t surprising for a film titled Wolf Man.
Roughly 30 years later, Blake is a writer estranged from his father but is now a husband to journalist Charlotte (Julia Garner) and a dad to young daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth), who catches himself falling into the same easily irritable traits of his father, often flying into brief instances of yelling and mild verbal abuse whenever he feels that the latter might be putting herself in danger as a result of not listening to him.
A “spirited exchange” also shows that the love might be burning out in this marriage as Blake grumpily urges Charlotte to take an important call with her editor to another room, conflicted on how to feel upon receiving paperwork informing him that his father is officially deceased. One thing is clear: he loves his family (Ginger also reciprocates that) and wants to make the family dynamic work, perhaps out of fear that he will become estranged from them, too. There is also a question of how much of his father has bled into him and if that can be removed or corrected.
This also might sound like an excessive amount of setup for a creature feature adaptation of a classic monster but worry not, co-writer/director Leigh Whannell (penning the screenplay alongside Corbett Tuck) is efficient in establishing these characterizations and dynamics, quick to funnel the family off to a summer vacation in the Oregon woods Blake grew up in, where a wolf man attacks before they even reach his childhood home. In this suspenseful sequence that amounts to a somewhat inspired take on the otherwise clichéd set piece of a vehicle swerving off the roads and into the woods, the moving truck is left suspended in midair, held together by various tree branches and Blake desperately tries to get his wife and daughter to safety, but not before unknowingly contracting the same aforementioned animalistic disease.
Admittedly, it is undeniably apparent where this is all going, especially with a bluntly delivered central metaphor. Wolf Man is also lacking in the ferocious bite, timeliness, and general wow factor of his universally acclaimed but criminally overlooked during awards season, The Invisible Man, but is well-crafted (complete with firsthand perspectives into what Blake is seeing and hearing throughout the transformation, something that comes with exceptional animalistic and heightened sound design distorting dialogue and audio from household appliances, bugs crawling along the walls, and more.)
The transformation aspect, yielding strong work from Christopher Abbott regarding both physicality and emoting, also boasts some truly impressive practical effects and makeup, playing into a humanized concept. Matilda Firth is also a newcomer highlight, terrified of what’s happening to her father but holding onto that love. There are tender moments here that are naturally cut short for more body horror, effectively working in tandem. It’s a film taking its premise seriously and dramatically but with enough sincerity and visual skill to pull that off. There are also gnarly one-and-one wolf-man battles, so the film delivers what’s to be expected.
103 minutes is a standard running time, but Wolf Man moves fast, functioning as tense theme park horror with solid thematic storytelling and such relentless pacing that it only feels like an hour long. The one downside to that is that, early on, some of that characterization comes to a halt and isn’t developed any further. Some of that nuts and bolts minimalism is appreciated; the film is simultaneously restrained yet embraces its genre roots to gnarly effect with heart at its core.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association, Critics Choice Association, and Online Film Critics Society. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews and follow my BlueSky or Letterboxd
