‘An American Werewolf in London’ or — A Special Relationship?

As a kid even the cover terrified me so much I would have to hide it behind copies of other movies. Even when I taped it off the TV (on our old V2000 system) the Scotch video-tape it was on still emitted an aura of fear. I’d have nightmares for days after every time I watched it, yet it kept compulsively pulling me back because it showed me things I’d always been fascinating in seeing. What was it about ‘An American Werewolf in London’ (1981) that made it so god-damn terrifying?
Watching it a couple of nights back for the first time in years one thing was obvious, namely that this movie has lost none of its bite or impact since it came out (the film has aged beautifully), still being shocking and thrilling in equal measure. Yes, the comedy and horror balance perfectly and those transformation effects have never been bettered resulting in a slick, well crafted reinvention of the werewolf genre. Yet for me, this time, what made it effective were two specific elements — the editing and the spectre of death.
We all know Landis showed the beast transformation in bright, harsh light, allowing us to take in the fact that something impossible was happening before our eyes. But after that we are given only the briefest glimpses of the creature, and I mean brief. Flashes, staccato bursts of blood red teeth surrounded by black fur punctuate carefully crafted tension with the violence of razor-sharp claws through a puffy hiking-jacket. Everything about this creature and how it is presented to us screams violence and sudden death. Notice the climax at Trafalgar Square and how little of the creature we see, how quickly it is over. A horror such as this is too deadly to function outside of such rapid editing because there is nothing human or relatable to this monster at all and it cannot be contained, even by the film it is in.
It is evident from the start that this tale can only end in death and that this is a one way trip to that destination. It is one of the reasons there is comedy in this movie as, without it, it would become too unbearable. After David is bitten his dreams reveal to him that all his humanity is going to be stripped away and, in the end, nothing can be saved. Is this why there are the Nazi monsters? That we are dealing with the same brutal, inhuman, indiscriminate death that lead to the gas chambers? I guess this is a horror film after all so let’s tap into the horrifying.
Not that ‘An American Werewolf in London’ is perfect. The romance between David and his nurse is convenient and unbelievable. His doctor investigating his case, and even travelling to the little village, seems like a naive American idolising the NHS (get bitten by a werewolf in the UK? Don’t worry, that’s covered by our health system). Yet ‘AAWIL’ isn’t hampered by any of this but actively thrives on it. We NEED David to have someone to love him as a balance to the nightmare and, having been rejected by his own country (I’m sure there’s a lot to unpack about American culture and foreign policy in this film but space is short but Mickey Mouse sure pops up a lot), it makes sense in terms of pacing to have it be his nurse as the love interest. Likewise with his doctor who saves introducing another character into the mix. It keeps things moving and that’s what’s important here. Besides, this movie’s power and strengths obliterate any possible flaws.
‘An American Werewolf in London’ is, definitely, one of the greatest horror films ever made. It nails possibly better than any other movie the horror of horror and has, without a doubt, the scariest looking werewolf put to film. Not only that but Landis’ direction is immaculate, never faltering for a second. The film is crammed with impressive shots, a couple of the best being the reveal of the werewolf devouring a corpse in the cinema (were we really expecting to see something THAT nasty?!) and, possibly my favourite, the high-angle shot down the escalator that catches our throat in our breath as we can’t believe our eyes what the fuck as just prowled into view.
I loved this film as a kid when it floored me with its intensity and filmmaking. Forty years later it still does.