Horror streaming service Shudder is on a werewolf kick this month, flooding the platform with lycanthropic treats.  Werewolves don’t get the same love as vampires, but they’re an interesting creature.  Watching various werewolf flicks over the past week or so has demonstrated that the “rules” governing them are as versatile as those that govern the bloodsuckers.

Perhaps the best modern werewolf film is 1981’s An American Werewolf in London.  The brainchild of writer and director John Landis—the man behind the “Thriller” music video—it takes the established mythology of the werewolf and expands upon it.  The film even references the classic Universal Studios film The Wolf Man (1941), drawing upon that film’s contribution to the modern werewolf mythology (it doubtlessly helped that An American Werewolf in London was also a Universal Studios production, giving Landis full access to earlier Universal properties).

An American Werewolf in London opens with two friends, David and Jack, as they begin hiking across Europe.  They start their journey on the chilly moors of northern England, stumbling upon a not-very-hospitable pub called “The Slaughtered Lamb.”  After inquiring about a strange pentagram on the wall, the pair are shown the door, with the warning to stick to the roads and to avoid the moors.

Naturally, these plucky Americans—New Yorkers, to be exact—ignore these instructions, and find themselves assailed by a vicious beast.  The creatures kills Jack and wounds David before one of the pubgoers shoots and kills the creature.  When the camera pans back, there is a dead man where the creature should be—gasp!  We are clearly in werewolf country.

David wakes up a few weeks later in a London hospital, suffering from strange, violent dreams.  Soon enough, his deceased friend appears to him, too.  The undead Jack encourages David to kill himself, saying that ending the wolf’s bloodline will allow Jack to rest in peace, instead of lingering as a progressively-decaying corpse.  According to Jack, hanging out with other ghosts is a drag.

David, of course, is unsure if his friend is just a hallucination or actually his friend as an undead entity.  I mean, would you kill yourself if your recently deceased friend appeared to you and encouraged you to do so?  Don’t answer that.

David takes up with his attractive nurse, continuing to ignore his dreams and Jack’s prodding.  Ultimately, the full moon rolls around and the inevitable happens—David transforms into a werewolf and begins a nocturnal massacre, waking up in the wolf pen at a London zoo the next morning.

The special effects in this scene are astounding for 1981, and the film won the first Academy Award for Best Makeup for it (warning—it’s quite graphic):

Jack encounters David once again, along with his now-undead victims, all of whom helpfully offer up ways he can off himself.  David transforms and wreaks more havoc in the riveting conclusion.

An American Werewolf in London is a prime example of “comedy horror,” the combination of two genres that historically don’t get much love from the critics.  Indeed, Landis had to sit on the script for the film for over about a decade, building up his own success as a filmmaker, before he could convince any studios to make the film.

What An American Werewolf in London does so well is that it combines the two genres without being overly cutesy.  Too much “comedy horror” leans so far into the “comedy” side of the equation, the horror falls flat; alternatively, a film might be horrifying, but the comedy feels forced.

AAWiL is legitimately terrifying, with the gruesome kills and special effects, but manages to maintain a comedic tone.  Jack’s continued appearances and (un?)deadpan (no pun intended) humor plays quite well—he is, naturally, chagrined that he’s an unliving, undying corpse, and that he has to witness the aftermath of his death.  He complains about attending his funeral, where his would-be girlfriend sleeps with another man to deal with her grief.  Even in death, he’s ticked off.

In all, An American Werewolf in London is an enjoyable relic from a true golden age of cinema, one in which original ideas and good cinematography led to a decade full of great movies with a distinct look and feel.  Landis’s visual style is particularly appealing, and immediately screams, “high-quality 80s movie.”

If you like werewolf flicks, start with The Wolf Man, then head straight to An American Werewolf in London.  A back-to-back viewing would make for a fun double-creature-feature around Halloween.