Werewolves Within (2021) – Review

Horror-comedies are a tricky beast to tame. Go too far in one direction, and you risk losing the scares; lean too much into the other, and the humour falls flat. Werewolves Within, directed by Josh Ruben, finds that sweet spot—delivering a blend of small-town paranoia, quirky comedy, and just enough bite to keep things interesting.

Based on Ubisoft’s video game of the same name (which, let’s be honest, almost no one played), Werewolves Within follows Finn Wheeler (Sam Richardson), a good-natured forest ranger, as he arrives in the snowy town of Beaverfield, where he hopes for a peaceful new assignment. Instead, he finds himself in the middle of a brewing storm—both literally and figuratively. A contentious gas pipeline proposal has divided the eccentric townsfolk, but before the town can tear itself apart over environmental ethics, something else starts doing the tearing—literally. And as tensions rise, a vicious blizzard traps them all inside the local inn, and with the town’s generators also destroyed, everyone is left in the dark.

 

“This was no weather accident.”

Suspect List: Who’s Howling in Beaverfield?

• Jeanine Sherman (Catherine Curtin) – Owns the town’s inn and is dealing with a very recent loss (or so she says). Grief can make people act strange… or maybe her late husband isn’t so “late” after all.
• Dr. Ellis (Rebecca Henderson) – The intense, no-nonsense scientist researching the local wildlife. But what if she’s studying something more… personal?
• Trisha Anderton (Michaela Watkins) – The over-the-top yoga-loving conservative who really wants her dog back. But if she’s so heartbroken over her pet, why does she seem so… bitey?
• Pete Anderton (Michael Chernus) – Trisha’s passive husband who doesn’t seem thrilled to be married to her. Maybe he’s bottling up his rage… or his inner werewolf.
• Devon and Joaquin Wolfson (Harvey Guillén and Cheyenne Jackson) – A snobby gay couple who despises the townies.
• Marcus and Gwen (George Basil and Sarah Burns) – An aggressively dysfunctional, gun-loving couple.
• Sam Parker (Wayne Duvall) – The corporate pipeline guy who wants to build through the town. Greedy and shady… but is he hairy and shady?
• Emerson Flint (Glenn Fleshler) – The town’s mysterious loner who looks like he could be a werewolf. Which means he probably isn’t… right?
• Cecily Moore (Milana Vayntrub) – The town’s super-friendly mail carrier. Too charming? Too helpful? Could she be hiding a beastly side behind that quirky personality?

 

“I’m too adorable to be a vicious killer, right?”

Things really get cooking when the hair samples Dr. Ellis took from the “crime scenes” turn out to be not in any animal database, and she violently suggests to the group that the culprit may be a lycanthrope who blends in with the rest of them – that she then “commits suicide” doesn’t help. Cue absolute mayhem. Paranoia runs wild as Beaverfield’s residents turn on each other, alliances shift, and accusations fly faster than snowflakes in a blizzard. Guns are drawn. Secrets are spilled. People get hilariously unhinged. And Finn, bless his overly polite heart, just wants everyone to get along. Moral of the story?

 

Werewolves, small-town politics, and snowstorms do NOT mix.

Stray Observations:

• This is not the first werewolf film to have a “whodunit” aspect, as the 1974 film The Beast Must Die had a definite Agatha Christie vibe, just not done as well as it is here.
• I have to give the screenwriters props for being the first horror film to open with a dramatic quote from Mr. Rogers.
• The first victim is attacked and dragged around by an unseen creature, very reminiscent of the death of Chrissie in Jaws.
• Emerson Flint has a stuffed grizzly bear in his house, but grizzlies are not native to Vermont. Did he import this trophy to impress his friends? Even though he has none.
• Locking away all of the guns for supposed safety, when a werewolf doesn’t need a gun to kill, is possibly the dumbest thing ever done in a werewolf movie.
• Parker uses a hidden blade, mounted on his wrist, a weapon featured in the Ubisoft Assassin’s Creed franchise.
• This film’s werewolf has plot-specific senses, as it should have easily been able to smell Finn while he was bleeding heavily.

 

“Can I axe you a question?”

The film thrives on its mix of horror and comedy, with its tone feeling like Clue meets The Thing. The humour is sharp, often character-driven, and delivered with excellent timing, thanks to a cast of actors who understand the assignment. What makes it all work so well is that everyone in town is weird in their own way, which makes the whodunit aspect of the film all the more fun. With every new twist, you’re left second-guessing who’s trustworthy and who’s hiding something furry under the surface.

Note: This film is heavy on comedy but light on actual werewolf action.

From gun-toting right-wingers to yoga-loving environmentalists, the ensemble is packed with colourful oddballs. Every character feels distinct, which makes the mystery more engaging. Leading the pack is Sam Richardson, who is the heart of the film, playing Finn as the ultimate “nice guy” stuck in the worst possible scenario. His charm makes him easy to root for, even as the insanity around him escalates. Milana Vayntrub shines as Cecily, bringing wit, warmth, and a sense of unpredictability to her role. The supporting cast is stacked with comedic talent, from Michaela Watkins as a delightfully aggressive craft lover to Glenn Fleshler as a gruff, gun-toting hermit.

 

“Do I look like a furry to you?”

Unlike some horror-comedies that rely on slapstick or camp, Werewolves Within builds tension while keeping the laughs coming. It plays with classic horror tropes—creepy isolation, paranoia, the fear of the unknown—but doesn’t take itself too seriously. The script, written by Mishna Wolff (yes, that’s really her name), is filled with witty dialogue and subtle satire, poking fun at everything from small-town politics to corporate greed. That the werewolf turns out to be the least volatile “person” in this town just adds to the comedic brilliance of the script.

 

The amount of crazy in this town is astounding.

In conclusion, Werewolves Within was a delightful surprise—an indie horror-comedy that didn’t overstay its welcome, packed with plenty of laughs, and offered just the right amount of horror. The cast was fantastic, the script was sharp, and the mystery was engaging enough to keep you invested. If you’re looking for something spooky but not too scary, funny but not dumb, and packed with quirky characters, Werewolves Within is a fantastic choice.

Treasure of the Four Crowns (1983) – Review

If one element that stands out among films of the 1980s, well, other than the slasher craze, was the revival of the 3D movie – any third instalment in a franchise was pretty much required to be in 3D and thus we got Friday the 13th 3D and Amityville 3D during this era – but following the popularity of Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark we were also treated to a lot of Indiana Jones knock-offs, yet how many of those had the balls to be released in 3D! And the fact that this is a Cannon film, you know it’s going to be great.

You know you are in for a “Bad Movie” treat when a film opens with a long opening crawl that tries to explain its entire premise, and for this entry, we get a doozy. ”In the universe, there are things man cannot hope to understand. Powers he cannot hope to possess. Forces he cannot hope to control. The Four Crowns are such things. Yet the search has begun. A soldier of fortune takes the first step. He seeks a key that will unlock the power of the Four Crowns and unleash a world where good and evil collide.” With that kind of build-up, what could go wrong? A lot actually, and while the opening sequence with Soldier of Fortune J.T. Striker (Tony Anthony) retrieving this “key of power” from a fortress, that is guarded by not only elaborate booby traps but a variety of viscous animals and supernatural forces, is a lot of fun to watch, sadly, the fact that the film’s primary hero has the charisma level of damp sponge makes everything that follows harder to get behind.

 

He doesn’t so much as ooze charisma as he does Bourbon and Scotch.

The plot, if you can call it that, is more like a series of loosely connected escapades and misadventures. It’s almost as if the filmmakers got lost themselves and decided to throw in some random obstacles to keep things interesting. We have the aforementioned J.T. Striker being hired to retrieve a magical key that will unlock four legendary crowns that supposedly contain unmentionable powers, and by unmentionable, I mean silly and ludicrous, and this leads to Striker being tasked with retrieving those crowns, unfortunately, they are in the possession of an evil cult leader named Brother Jonas (Emiliano Redondo) who will most likely use the supernatural power of crowns for world domination, that or open up a chain of Subway sandwich shops.

 

Still, he’s less despicable than Jared Fogel.

Of course, such a dangerous mission is not something one can achieve on their own, so Striker must assemble a crack team of adventurers. First, we have Rick (Jerry Lazarus) an expert mountain climber who would rather climb into a bottle than up a mountain – for some reason the magical key going nuts and ruining his cabin is enough to get him to agree to come on this insane mission – next is aging circus strongman Socrates (Francisco Rabal) who has a heart condition but is hiding this from his daughter Liz (Ana Obregón), an accomplished trapeze artist and final member of our team. Needless to say, this is not exactly A-Team material, and I wouldn’t trust these guys to break into a summer camp, let alone a mountain fortress guarded by machine gun-toting cultists. Basically, Ferdinando Baldi’s Treasure of the Four Crowns is the kind of movie that makes you wonder if the treasure they were searching for was actually a good script. This cheesy adventure flick may not have won any Oscars, but it sure wins the prize for unintentional hilarity.

Note: The sequence of our heroes breaking into the “Vault of the Crowns” is so long and tedious that I started to wonder if I was watching an experiment on coma-inducing boredom.

The treasure hunt itself is a rollercoaster ride of head-scratching moments, with our intrepid heroes seeming to have a perfect knack for stumbling into one absurd situation after another. From dodging overly dramatic traps to deciphering cryptic clues that even a parrot with a PhD. would struggle with, the “comedy” never stops. our villain. As for the villain, Brother Jonas has more moustache twirls than a silent movie villain and a lair that looks like it was designed by a Bond villain on a shoestring budget. His grand plans for world domination are as over-the-top as his wardrobe, and it’s impossible not to chuckle at his diabolical speeches. The dialogue, bless its heart, is a treasure trove of unintentional comedy gold. Lines delivered with such gravity and earnestness that you can’t help but wonder if the actors knew they were in on the joke. “We must find the crowns, or the world will fall into darkness!” Cue dramatic music and a collective eyebrow raise from the audience.

 

Put on your 3D glasses and set a course for adventure!

Stray Observations:

• Posters credited the 3D process used in the film as “Supervision” and “Wondervision” but both of these processes are fictitious, and the film actually used the Marks 3-Depix Stereospace Converter.
• If you were to remove all the shots of things being slowly thrust at the camera, this movie would be thirty minutes shorter.
• In the opening, Striker is attacked by various winged creatures, which consist mostly of birds, but one of these looks to be a baby Pteranodon, yet no explanation is given as to why a prehistoric creature is inhabiting an old fortress.
• In the classic opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones was chased out of the tomb by a giant rolling stone. In this movie, our hero is chased by two FLAMING rolling stones. How is that for one-upmanship?

 

Eat your heart out, Indiana Jones.

The film’s production values are another significant drawback, with special effects and set designs that are outdated and unconvincing even for something made in the mid-80s. The action sequences, which should have been the film’s highlight, are poorly choreographed and lack the excitement and tension needed to hold the audience’s attention. The use of 3D technology, a novelty at the time, is more distracting than immersive, with numerous scenes that seem forced and gimmicky, and by that, I mean 90% of the 3D is random stuff simply being thrust at the viewer in that subtle “It’s coming right at you!” style of this era of cheap 3D. Treasure of the Four Crowns tries its hardest to dazzle you with flying arrows and cheesy projectiles. If you’ve ever wanted to see a sword thrust directly at your face in glorious ’80s 3D, this movie delivers. However, by today’s standards, it’s more likely to make you chuckle than duck for cover.

 

Some tombs should remain unraided.

One might argue that Treasure of the Four Crowns could be appreciated as a nostalgic relic from the early 1980s, but even through that lens, it struggles to stand the test of time. The cast, unfortunately, is unable to salvage the film as even seasoned actors like Tony Anthony and Ana Obregón struggle with the thinly sketched characters they’re given. The lack of compelling dialogue and character development leaves the audience disconnected from the protagonists, making it difficult to root for their success or empathize with their challenges. Add to this the film’s shortcomings in storytelling and production, and it makes the film a difficult one to recommend to modern audiences seeking a compelling adventure movie, well, unless you are a lover of cheesy bad movies and if that’s the case, some fun can be had spending time riffing with like-minded friends.

Note: When Striker opens the crowns and holds the two “gems of power,” we get an “Ark of the Covenant” moment that is so balls-to-the-wall crazy that it almost redeems the long passages of tedium that preceded this scene. It doesn’t get much better than this, seriously, it doesn’t.

In summary, Treasure of the Four Crowns is a true ’80s time capsule, filled with dated fashion, cringe-worthy dialogue, and 3D effects that might leave you wondering if you’ve accidentally stumbled into a theme park ride. But if you’re in the mood for a good laugh and some nostalgic fun, this treasure hunt gone wrong might just be the comedic gem you’re looking for. So, grab your popcorn, put on your 3D glasses (if you dare), and embark on this wild, unintentionally hilarious adventure.

The Wolf of Snow Hollow (2020) – Review

If Fargo and The Howling ever shared DNA, the result might look a lot like The Wolf of Snow Hollow. Written, directed by, and starring Jim Cummings, the film is a genre-bending hybrid—equal parts murder mystery, werewolf thriller, and midlife crisis drama. Remarkably, this unlikely combination holds together with surprising cohesion.

The film follows Officer John Marshall (Jim Cummings), a tightly wound small-town cop dealing with a failing sobriety streak, anger management issues, and a father (Robert Forster) whose declining declining health has him reluctantly stepping down as Sheriff. Oh, and did I mention there’s a possible werewolf ripping through their quiet mountain town? Yeah, rough week. Despite his personal struggles—including his recent sobriety, anger management issues, and the stress of raising his teenage daughter, Jenna (Chloe East)—John is determined to prove that this is a case of human violence, not something supernatural. However, as more victims turn up, each slaughtered with an almost inhuman level of brutality, panic spreads through the town, and rumours begin circulating that the murders are the work of a werewolf.

 

This certainly looks like a werewolf.

And from that premise, The Wolf of Snow Hollow appears to be a conventional werewolf horror film – a small, snowy mountain town is terrorized by a series of brutal murders, with the victims appearing to be savaged by an animal. As John’s frustration grows as he battles not only the town’s fear but also his own self-destructive tendencies. His fellow officers, including Officer Julia Robson (Riki Lindhome), try to keep the case grounded in reality, but the bizarre nature of the evidence—massive paw prints at the crime scenes, victims killed on full moon nights, and a lack of solid human suspects—only fuels the legend of the “Snow Hollow Horror.” However, unlike traditional werewolf films that lean heavily into supernatural horror elements, The Wolf of Snow Hollow plays with the audience’s expectations, keeping them guessing whether the monstrous attacks are the work of a real werewolf or something far more human.

 

Could it be this creepy guy burning a corpse?

Stray Observations:

• John Marshall is an alcoholic police officer in a small town, as was the main character in WolfCop, is this a trope now?
• The small town’s police officers debate whether to allow the FBI to investigate the murder. It would not be their decision. Mulder and Sculley would have shown up on their own.
• A mother leaves her restaurant table to escape a creepy stranger, it seems unfathomable she would leave her three-year-old daughter alone in his presence. Mother of the year she is not.
• Later, that same mother exits her car to investigate the deer carcass, she leaves her daughter unattended with a window rolled down in a snowstorm. Please, somebody, call Child Services.

 

Oh well, never mind.

The film presents itself as a werewolf mystery but ultimately functions as a character study wrapped in the guise of a horror film. With Cummings serving as writer, director, and lead actor, the film carries his signature blend of emotional intensity and dry humour, making for a viewing experience that is as entertaining as it is unsettling. And most intriguing, is the way it plays with the whole “Is it supernatural or just terrifyingly human?” It keeps you guessing, which is rare in the creature feature genre. Rather than fully committing to creature-feature horror, the film instead emphasizes the psychological unravelling of its protagonist. He’s the definition of a flawed protagonist.

 

“Yes, I’m an asshole. I thought everyone knew that.”

The werewolf myth clearly serves as a metaphor for John’s inner turmoil, as he grapples with his own violent tendencies, familial pressures, and personal failures. This approach keeps the film fresh and unpredictable, avoiding well-worn genre tropes in favour of something more introspective and character-driven. Think Jaws, if Chief Brody was even more neurotic and had a failing relationship with literally everyone. John’s emotional instability is often played for both humour and drama. His frequent outbursts and erratic behaviour make him an unreliable leader, yet they also highlight his deep-seated insecurities and desperation, which his failure as a father and the death of his own only exacerbates.

 

R.I.P. Robert Forster – In one of his last roles, Forster brings a quiet, no-nonsense gravitas to the part of John’s father that reminds you why he was one of the best character actors in the business.

Beneath its horror trappings, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is a film about masculinity and the struggles that come with it. John is a man burdened by expectations—those of his father, his community, and himself. He refuses to show vulnerability, suppresses his emotions through aggression, and struggles to maintain control over his life. The werewolf, in many ways, is a representation of his worst fears: losing control, succumbing to rage, and becoming the very monster he is hunting.

Note: Don’t expect An American Werewolf in London level transformation scene as this film leans into the less-is-more approach, which works… but some horror fans might feel cheated.

In conclusion, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is an offbeat, stress-inducing, yet strangely hilarious horror mystery with a werewolf problem… or maybe just a really angry man in a fur suit. Either way, it’s a howling good time (pun 100% intended). If you like your horror with a side of existential dread and awkward small-town cop drama, this is absolutely for you. Just don’t expect John Marshall to keep his cool—because he absolutely won’t.

Valley of the Dinosaurs (1974 – 1976) Review

If you ever wondered what Land of the Lost would be like with fewer Sleestaks and more heartfelt family bonding, Valley of the Dinosaurs is your answer. Produced by Hanna-Barbera, this animated adventure series took kids on a prehistoric journey filled with dinosaurs, cavemen, and survival lessons that somehow always seemed to be resolved in exactly 22 minutes.

The premise is classic Saturday morning fare: a modern family—the Butlers—gets sucked into a whirlpool while rafting in the Amazon and ends up in a mysterious land where dinosaurs roam and primitive humans thrive. But instead of searching frantically for a way home, they quickly befriend a cave-dwelling family and begin their new life of fish-catching, fire-making, and occasional T. Rex dodging. It’s a survivalist’s dream—if the survivalist were drawn in simple Hanna-Barbera style and narrated with a comforting lack of real danger.

 

Morality lessons, yes, actual danger…no.

The head of the show is patriarch John Butler (Mike Road), who is a science teacher and the one who takes on the leadership role in the group – as expected he will give life lessons to all concerned – next is his wife Kim (Shannon Farnon) who is both dutiful and resourceful and a wannabee June Cleaver but with PhD, then there are their two children, the adventurous and quick-witted Greg (Jackie Earle Haley) and his older sister Katie (Kathy Gori). As expected for this kind of show, Greg’s main job was to get into trouble and then be lectured by his dad. Then we have our group of friendly cave dwellers, Gorok (Alan Oppenheimer) the strong and wise leader of his family, his wife Gara (Joan Gardner) whose job is mainly to help Kim Butler adapt to this new primitive world, and finally, we have their two children Lok (Frank Welker) and Tana (Melanie Baker), who pal around with the Butler children for various misadventures.

 

“As primitive as can be.”

Needless to say, this prehistoric valley is filled with dangers, the biggest of which are dinosaurs, ranging from large carnivorous predators like Tyrannosaurus rex to massive herbivores such as brontosauruses. The characters also face other creatures, including giant insects, pterosaurs, and sabre-toothed cats. Aside from dinosaurs, the valley presents challenges such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, treacherous rivers, and environmental dangers. Each episode typically involves the characters encountering a new survival dilemma—whether it’s a food shortage, an attack from a dinosaur, or a natural disaster—and working together to find a solution.

 

Running away is a very common solution to stuff like this.

The episodes followed a fairly set formula:
• The Butlers encounter a new danger or challenge in the valley.
• Gorak’s family either assist or requires help from the Butlers.
• The two families work together to find a solution, often blending science with primitive survival tactics.
• The crisis is resolved, and though the Butlers remain stranded, the episode will end with hope or a lesson learned.

  

Stranded despite their ability to construct an airplane.

Throughout the series, the Butlers occasionally attempt to find a way back home, as that is the basic premise of the show, and while they explore the valley in hopes of discovering an exit, each attempt is thwarted by obstacles such as rock slides, dinosaur attacks, or impassable terrain. Despite these setbacks, John and his family remain determined, continuing their search while making the best of their new reality.

 

“Can you see a second season from here? Because I can’t.”

Stray Observations:

• The opening narration describes the valley as a “world that time forgot” which could be a nod to the Edgar Rice Burroughs book “The Land That Time Forgot.”
• Classic cartoon fans will most likely recognize Mike Road, who voices John Butler in this series, as the same man who voiced Race Bannon on Jonny Quest.
• As was the case with The Professor on Gilligan’s Island, John Butler is versed in practically every field of science.
• This show has an erupting volcano because no Lost World story would be complete without one. Luckily, this eruption doesn’t destroy the valley ,or this show wouldn’t have lasted even one season.

 

Mother Nature is a very cruel editor.

While Valley of the Dinosaurs was clearly meant for young audiences, it had its strengths with the series emphasizing cooperation, family values, and problem-solving, often showcasing how the Butlers’ modern knowledge could be combined with the primitive skills they learn from their cave neighbours. Without fail, every episode would feature an educational moment—like how to build a raft or escape quicksand—though one has to wonder how accurate these prehistoric life hacks really were. The biggest challenge is in dino-proofing whatever scientific wonder the Butlers come up with.

 

Is there such a thing as a scarecrow for Pteranodons?

Unfortunately, Valley of the Dinosaurs debuted the same year as the live-action Sid and Marty Kroft’s Land of the Lost, which had better world-building, more intriguing mysteries, and, let’s be honest, much cooler dinosaurs (nicely executed stop-motion puppets). This series had no truly sinister villains, and no deep lore to explore—just a steady, episodic structure where problems arise, teamwork prevails, and dinosaurs act more like oversized pets than actual threats. The animation, while serviceable for 1970s television, was fairly stiff, and character designs were about as generic as they come. If you’ve seen one Hanna-Barbera character, you’ve seen them all.

 

Cool dino-action makes up for a lot.

Another key problem would be the fact that almost every episode followed that same aforementioned formula: the Butlers try to adapt to prehistoric life, some disaster occurs (usually involving dinosaurs or natural dangers), and Gorak and his family help them solve the problem. It gets repetitive fast. And as typical of Hanna-Barbera productions of the time, not a lot of time was spent on character development; most characters were serviceable but one-dimensional at best. John Butler, the father, is the typical strong and knowledgeable patriarch, and Kate is your standard supportive wife. While their kids get the occasional spotlight, they don’t develop much, and even their pet dog, Digger, seems stuck in the same routine.

Note: The Gorok family have a pet of their own in the form of a baby Stegosaurus named Glump because of course, they do.

Sadly, because the show only lasted one season, it never received a proper conclusion, and so the Butlers remain stranded in the valley, continuing their daily struggles and hoping to one day find a way back home. In fact, the series never explored whether the valley was truly inescapable or if an exit existed at all. Who knows, maybe someday a television or movie producer will revisit this piece of nostalgic property, and we could end up with a live-action remake. I only hope that if this does happen, it turns out better than the 2009 Land of the Lost remake starring Will Ferrell and Danny McBride. Some things are just too painful to contemplate.

 

I vote for Ron Perlman to play Gorak.

In conclusion, Valley of the Dinosaurs is a charming but forgettable relic of its time. It’s an enjoyable watch for those nostalgic for simple Saturday morning escapism, but it doesn’t hold up against other prehistoric-themed adventures. If you’re looking for caveman camaraderie with a side of educational tidbits, it’s worth a look. If you want something with more bite (literally and figuratively), you might be better off elsewhere.

WolfCop (2014) – Review

Low-budget horror comedies are a tricky beast. They can be too self-aware and try-hard (Sharknado), or they can embrace their ridiculous premise and lean into the absurdity with genuine charm. WolfCop falls firmly into the latter category. This 2014 Canadian cult film is a love letter to grindhouse schlock, 80s practical effects, and small-town weirdness, delivering a gory, goofy, and surprisingly fun experience.

Written and directed by Lowell Dean, this Canadian film defies expectations and combines two seemingly incompatible genres—police procedural and werewolf horror—into a gory, over-the-top B-movie experience. The main character of this tale is Lou Garou (Leo Fafard), a washed-up, perpetually drunk cop in the sleepy town of Woodhaven. His biggest skills include sleeping on the job, chugging whisky, and half-heartedly solving crimes. One night, Lou responds to a report of a disturbance in the woods, where instead of partying teenagers he finds signs of a strange ritual—bloody symbols, and the strung-up body of mayoral candidate Terry Wallace (Ryland Alexander). But before he can react, he is knocked unconscious. When he wakes up at home the next morning, he is disoriented and finds a pentagram carved into his chest. Worse, he starts experiencing strange symptoms—heightened senses, enhanced strength, and an overwhelming craving for raw meat and alcohol. Then comes the full moon and poor Lou is soon sprouting hair and claws and tearing people into messy body parts.

The long claw of the law.

At first, Lou is horrified to find out that he’s now part-cop, part-monster, but it turns out being a werewolf has its perks! Enhanced strength, heightened senses, and a thirst for justice (and maybe still a bit of alcohol). With his trusty buddy Willie Higgins (Jonathan Cherry), a conspiracy theory-loving, beer-guzzling sidekick, Lou embraces his new role as the town’s first WolfCop—because why fight crime as an ordinary officer when you can do it with fangs and claws? Soon he realizes he has been cursed by a satanic cult and he undergoes a grotesque transformation into WolfCop—a fanged, furry enforcer of justice who’s still somehow addicted to booze. With his trusty sidearm and new abilities, he begins cleaning up Woodhaven in the most violent way possible. He takes down robbers, drug dealers, and thugs, leaving a trail of dismembered criminals in his wake.

Dirty Hairy

Watching WolfCop bust up crime is a treat. He doesn’t just stop criminals—he rips them apart. He fights corrupt politicians, cultists, and sleazy criminals, all while still finding time to drink heavily and drive his Wolfmobile (yes, there’s a Wolfmobile, and it’s glorious). Then there is no-nonsense officer Tina Walsh (Amy Matysio), who does her best to figure out what is going on in her beloved town and whether or not it has anything to do with her father’s death during the last solar eclipse. Oh, and did I mention there’s a werewolf sex scene? Because there’s a werewolf sex scene. It’s like Beauty and the Beast, but way furrier and way weirder.

Red Hot Riding Hood.

As Lou investigates his transformation, a sinister conspiracy in Woodhaven is unveiled; it seems the town’s most powerful figures— including the corrupt mayor and a group of wealthy elites—are shape-shifting reptilian creatures who have been secretly ruling the town for generations. Every few years, during a solar eclipse, they conduct a blood ritual to steal the power of a werewolf and extend their own unnatural lives. Lou was chosen as their latest sacrifice. Or trio must work together to uncover the town’s supernatural conspiracy before Lou’s inner beast is used for something far worse than just fighting crime. And just what does the mysterious bartender Jessica Barratt (Sarah Lind) have to do with any of this?

“I’m not a reptilian cultist, honest.”

Stray Observations:

• The main character is named Lou Garou, get it? “Loup-garou”? Because French werewolf puns are classy.
• There’s a scene in front of an auto-body repair shop called “Stiles Autobody.” Stiles was Scott Howard’s best friend in Teen Wolf.
• If your town’s police force only consists of three people, maybe having the town drunk doubling as a police officer is a bad idea. That’s how you end up with evil cults running around.
• When Lou shaves his stubble immediately grows, making me wonder if he was a werewolf or possibly fell under the Santa Clause.
• The phrase “Hair of the dog that bit you” takes on extra meaning when you’re an alcoholic and a werewolf.
• This film boasts some very cool transformations, and the werewolf bursting out of its human host is very reminiscent of the Neil Marshall film The Company of Wolves.

Talk about a splitting headache.

At first glance, one might wonder if WolfCop is attempting to make a statement about societal issues or human nature; however, the film’s thematic content is secondary to its more overt goal of pure goofy entertainment. The blending of the police procedural with supernatural horror and comedy results in a uniquely absurd product, where werewolf transformations and action sequences are juxtaposed with mundane police work, such as filing paperwork or questioning witnesses. This blending of genres is purposeful, as it plays on the idea of the ordinary clashing with the extraordinary. Lou Garou, for example, is not a noble hero nor a typical action star. He is, at his core, a deeply flawed man who finds himself thrust into a bizarre and violent new reality, leading to a series of comedic misadventures. The film thus functions as both a homage and a satire of genre conventions.

 

A cop who can’t be stopped…literally.

The film’s self-aware humour is one of its most defining features. Rather than attempting to create something highbrow or thought-provoking, WolfCop relishes in its silliness. Puns and visual gags abound, and the film even indulges in outrageous set pieces—like the infamous werewolf sex scene—that are meant to provoke laughter, not moral reflection. This disregard for seriousness enables the film to revel in its own campiness. However, the humour never becomes completely slapstick or absurd for the sake of it. Instead, it is grounded in the genre tropes the film is riffing on, such as the tough-as-nails cop who operates on the fringes of the law or the villainous conspiracy lurking beneath the surface of a seemingly idyllic small town.

 

This film gets bonus points for a conspiracy involving lizard people.

One of the most memorable aspects of WolfCop is its use of practical effects, particularly in the transformation scenes. The werewolf make-up and prosthetics exude a gritty, old-school charm, and while not as polished as Hollywood blockbusters, these transformation sequences are visceral and grotesque, evoking classics like An American Werewolf in London and The Howling. The body horror elements are effective, depicting the painful and grotesque process of transformation with surprising detail. Skin stretches, bones crack, and facial features distort, resulting in an uncomfortable yet fascinating viewing experience. This commitment to practical effects, rather than relying on CGI, imbues the film with an authenticity and tactile quality that works in its favour.

 

The gore on hand is brutal but fun.

The film also excels in its depiction of violence, embracing the over-the-top brutality that often characterizes B-movie horror. WolfCop’s physical confrontations are punctuated by geysers of blood, limbs being torn off, and gory dismemberment. These graphic moments, while intense, are never meant to be taken seriously. They are exaggerated to such a degree that they feel more like comic book panels come to life, heightening the film’s playful atmosphere. There is a certain joy in seeing a werewolf cop blast his way through a corrupt political conspiracy, and the practical effects ensure that the audience feels the weight of every violent encounter. All this film was missing was a cool theme song.

 

“Da da da da da da da da da da da da da da da WolfCop!”

In conclusion, WolfCop is a refreshing dive into pure genre fun. It is a film that understands its limitations and wholeheartedly embraces them, offering audiences a bloody, irreverent, and frequently hilarious ride. It’s Teen Wolf meets RoboCop meets a six-pack of beer, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. This film is dumb in all the right ways, self-aware, and loaded with practical effects that would make 80s horror proud. A must for fans of werewolf movies or just anyone hoping for a good time.