A long time before the teenage repackaging of supernatural horror films, with sanitised scripting and all existential questions reduced to adolescent angst, genuinely adult vampire and werewolf stories were being made for big and small screens. Louis Jourdan and Frank Finlay in the BBC’s (1977) ‘Count Dracula’ was one such; John Landis’ ‘An American Werewolf in London’ (1981) was another. These films (and others like them) may seem dated in their ‘special effects’, as we have become so used to computer generated imagery and animation, but their acting, direction, scripting and lighting are all far superior to modern versions, despite the CGI. In fact, the latter has allowed poor acting, lacklustre direction and clichéd, unoriginal scripting to become the norm, whilst we are (literally) blinded by the illusions of special effects.
Landis created a masterpiece of horror cinema with this film, thanks to superb direction, brilliant lighting and cinematography. The musical score by Elmer Bernstein is evocative and eerie, but hauntingly beautiful. The script never tips over into parody, but is funny at points (Jack’s greeting to David with Mickey Mouse is a juxtaposition that results in moment of perfect comic horror and the patrons of ‘The Slaughtered Lamb’ are hilarious). The ‘special effects’, particularly Rick Baker’s werewolf transformation, have never been equalled, only endlessly copied (even by Landis and Baker themselves, when making ‘Thriller’ with Michael Jackson, another unequalled example, in pop video culture).
The real key to the success of this film and it’s excellence, however, is the acting. The cast is marvellous; Jenny Agutter and John Woodvine are exceptional and wonderfully ‘British’, David Naughton and Griffin Dunne pull off the American ingenue in Britain convincingly and enjoyably. Brian Glover, David Schofield and an early appearance by Rik Mayall, are all marvellous as the deeply suspicious of strangers, somewhat threatening drinkers and chess players in an atmospheric village pub, that fall silent when the young Americans enter; a clever homage to the saloon bar of many Hollywood ‘westerns’.
All the characters are absolutely believable and, like all good ‘monster movies’, we care about them and what happens to them; ultimately this film transcends itself to become a passion play, a tragedy in the best sense.
