10 under-the-radar werewolf films worth howling about
In honor of the Wolf Man remake, we brave the edges of werewolf cinema where things get a little hairy.
Photo: ITC EntertainmentWerewolf films have never had the same cultural impact as vampire movies, or kaiju movies, or ghost stories, but in many ways that lesser renown is a selling point. Because it’s a subgenre less codified by Hollywood, and less subject to certain tropes, the werewolf film has been able to, like the creatures which populate it, constantly evolve, delivering a wide variety of films that, while fewer in number when compared to other movie monsters, present a kaleidoscope of horror experiences.
This month, filmmaker Leigh Whannell adds to the werewolf canon with his update of Universal’s classic Wolf Man, and while the film is bound to send viewers in search of other pillars of the genre—films like An American Werewolf In London, The Howling, and recent hits like Werewolves Within—there are plenty of less-famous gems worth exploring while werewolves are on our minds. From whodunits to black comedies, here are 10 under-the-radar werewolf films worth checking out.
The Beast Must Die (1974)
The opening moments of The Beast Must Die announce that it is unlike any other werewolf film, because it spends those opening moments inviting direct viewer participation. A whodunit in which viewers must guess who the werewolf is among the guests at a wealthy big game hunter’s mansion, Paul Annett’s 1974 horror romp introduces the “werewolf break” at the beginning of the film. What’s a “werewolf break?” Well, it’s the moment when the entire audience spends 30 seconds guessing who the werewolf is while the film is on pause, of course! It’s a gimmick, but it’s a gimmick that works in the film’s favor, as an ensemble cast that includes genre mainstays Peter Cushing and Charles Gray delivers a rousing, clever whodunit with tongue firmly in cheek, exploring the tropes of werewolf lore while also exploring the ways in which the rich and powerful are determined to eat each other alive.
Blackout (2023)
Indie horror legend Larry Fessenden took on werewolf cinema with this low-budget gem, pulling apart not just how difficult being a werewolf would be physically, but how it would affect someone psychologically during the daylight hours. The story of an alcoholic artist who’s realized that he kills with every full moon, Blackout plays all the werewolf hits, and then digs deeper. If you realized you were a werewolf, what would you do? Would you turn yourself in? Would you reckon with your own legacy? Would you do some strange combination of making amends and self-flagellation? Fessenden’s film, carried along by a wonderful lead performance from Alex Hurt, asks all of these questions and more, granting an added emotional dimension to well-worn concepts, while also never letting up on the horror throttle.
The Company Of Wolves (1984)
The decade before he made one of the ultimate vampire films with Interview With The Vampire, Irish writer-director Neil Jordan made one of the most sumptuous, evocative, and charming werewolf movies ever made. It’s been largely overshadowed by the later films in Jordan’s career, but The Company Of Wolves seduces you with its beauty, then snarls at you with jagged, ravenous teeth—teeth that keep gnawing at you long after the credits have rolled. Adapted from a short story by Angela Carter (who also co-wrote the script), Jordan’s film is a gorgeous nesting doll of fairy-tale horror, unfolding as a young girl named Rosaleen (Sarah Patterson) is transported into a fantasy world while she dreams. Within that world, Jordan and Carter riff on the story of Little Red Riding Hood, explore burgeoning female sexuality, and deliver one of the most unsettling werewolf transformations of all time, all while composing some of the most arresting and lush images in all of werewolf cinema.
Dog Soldiers (2002)
Neil Marshall’s feature directorial debut is arguably the most well-known werewolf movie on this list, if only because horror fans who love it simply won’t stop trying to convert people to its particular delights. Set in the Scottish Highlands during a training exercise gone horribly wrong, Dog Soldiers follows a company of soldiers who realize that they’re being hunted not by human killers, but by lycanthropes. Packed with chemistry from its ensemble cast—which includes Sean Pertwee, Kevin McKidd, and Liam Cunningham—and steeped in influences ranging from Night Of The Living Dead to Predator, Dog Soldiers succeeds as both a great werewolf movie and a great low-budget action film, as an all-night siege ensues and the stakes of the violence are set. It’s a grim, gritty, bare-knuckle movie, but it’s also got a wickedly funny streak that makes it absolutely irresistible.
Full Moon High (1981)
Before there was Teen Wolf, there was Full Moon High. If the Michael J. Fox film is a teenage crowdpleaser, then cult movie legend Larry Cohen’s 1981 werewolf comedy is one for the weirdos. Built on the B-movie teen monster stories of the mid-20th century, Cohen’s film follows a young man (Adam Arkin) who’s bitten by a werewolf and, because this is how werewolves work in Cohen’s film, simply stops aging. Because he still looks like a teenager despite nearing middle-aged, he goes back to high school to try to reinvigorate himself, only to find that things are even more complicated than he remembers. Like so many of Cohen’s best films, Full Moon High succeeds because it starts with a relatively simple concept and then goes to funny, absurd, and just flat-out weird places. Whether his teenage werewolf is talking about his “time of the month” or the film is joking that silver bullets don’t work anymore because of inflation, this movie is pure comedic invention, a cult film that has to be seen to be believed.
Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning (2004)
John Fawcett’s 2000 werewolf coming-of-age film Ginger Snaps is widely considered one of the best the subgenre has to offer, and one of the best teen horror movies of all time. It’s not surprising that a sequel, Ginger Snaps II: Unleashed, arrived four years later, but it is surprising that, in the same year, we also got a prequel. Set in the early 19th century at a fur trading outpost in colonial North America, Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning follows inseparable sisters Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and Brigitte (Emily Perkins) as they stumble into the outpost amid an outbreak of animal attacks. Soon, Ginger is bitten by a werewolf, and both sisters are left trying to hide the affliction from the overbearing men in the settlement while searching for a way to break the curse. It’s basically Colonial Ginger Snaps, with a dose of parasitic paranoia films like The Thing and Invasion Of The Body Snatchers thrown in for good measure. It doesn’t make any real sense in the context of the rest of the franchise, but that doesn’t slow Ginger Snaps Back down for a second. Isabelle and Perkins are great, the gore effects are on point, and its incisive (if often heavy-handed) bite into toxic masculinity is satisfying.
Howling II: Your Sister Is A Werewolf (1985)
Joe Dante’s The Howling remains one of the essential werewolf films, and is in the conversation for the title of Greatest Werewolf Film Ever Made. The Howling II is…well, it’s not that, but that doesn’t mean it should be ignored, especially if you like your horror movies horny. Set in the immediate aftermath of the first film, it follows Karen White’s (Dee Wallace) brother Ben (Reb Brown), who is informed by a mysterious expert (Christopher Lee) that his sister was, indeed, a werewolf. Convinced that werewolves are now a threat to humanity, Ben heads off with his new monster hunter friend and Karen’s old coworker Jenny (Annie McEnroe) to Transylvania, where they must unseat a powerful werewolf queen who lives in a castle and is constantly surrounded by a mass of sweaty, partially-clad lycanthropic sex objects. What does this have to do with how The Howling ended? Not much, but it’s still a wild, sexy, weird ride into 1980s horror sequel mayhem, and it does indeed feature Christopher Lee intoning, with great gravitas, “Your sister is a werewolf.”
Silver Bullet (1985)
Stephen King expanded his own novella, Cycle Of The Werewolf, into this 1985 film directed by Dan Attias, and despite King’s direct involvement, it was long considered one of his lesser adaptations. Today, Silver Bullet might still rank as a minor adaptation of a minor King work, but it’s gained a cult following because, well, it’s a blast to watch. Set in a small Maine town in the 1970s, the film version of events follows a paraplegic kid (Corey Haim) who gets a cool wheelchair from his uncle (Gary Busey) that he nicknames “Silver Bullet,” and then promptly encounters the local werewolf. The front half of the film is a coming-of-age story mixed with a whodunit, as the town tries to figure out who’s behind a string of violent killings, but the back half is where Silver Bullet really comes alive. Here, with the werewolf identified, the film becomes an Amblin-esque, kids-on-bikes romp that remains one of the most entertaining Stephen King movies ever. It was a lot of horror fans’ first werewolf movie, and it still has the power to initiate many more into the subgenre.
Wer (2013)
Director William Brent Bell’s follow-up to The Devil Inside heads to one of the hotbeds of werewolf lore, France, for a modern-day take on a very old legend. Set in the aftermath of a brutal double murder at a camp site, Wer follows an American expatriate defense attorney (A.J. Cook) who must defend the accused murderer (Eagles Of Death Metal bassist Brian Scott O’Connor) against police barbarism and the wide-ranging view that he is, without question, the killer. Treated like a true-crime docudrama for much of its runtime, Wer focuses on the attorney and her team of experts as they attempt to explain their client’s strange behavior, incomprehensible strength, and connection to the moon. What they find is something that the audience can certainly see coming, but it’s all told in such a compelling way that sensing the twists don’t matter. Then there’s the third act, which lays itself out with such an eye toward creative mayhem that you’ll be swept away by its savage intensity.
The Wolf Of Snow Hollow (2020)
Writer, director, and star Jim Cummings’ take on werewolf cinema works quite well as a brutal exercise in slow-building horror, complete with some great gore, but it’s what The Wolf Of Snow Hollow does with its human protagonist that makes it great. Cummings stars as John Marshall, a deputy sheriff whose father (Robert Forster, in one of his final roles) is losing his grip on the town he’s supposed to protect, and whose daughter (Chloe East) is constantly disobeying him. To make matters worse, John’s a recovering alcoholic, and a string of brutal, possibly wolf-related slayings is making him eye the bottle again. Cummings’ earnest, relentless portrayal of John’s struggles as he tries to find a killer while personally unraveling makes The Wolf Of Snow Hollow shine, particularly as Cummings shows his chops not just for horror but for black, screwball-tinged family comedy. It’s like Fargo if Fargo were even darker and Marge Gunderson was dealing with a possible werewolf situation. If you love snowbound mysteries, it doesn’t get much more enticing than that.