Presented by Steven C. Miller’s Werewolves, Bloody Disgusting is looking to the stars and howling at the moon with WEREWOLVES WEEK. Today, Jenn Adams takes a look at the funny side of the werewolf sub-genre: the hairy horror-comedy. The act of becoming a werewolf is deadly serious—arguably horror’s most painful mutation. The body writhes and screams […]
Presented by Steven C. Miller’s Werewolves, Bloody Disgusting is looking to the stars and howling at the moon with WEREWOLVES WEEK. Today, Jenn Adams takes a look at the funny side of the werewolf sub-genre: the hairy horror-comedy.
The act of becoming a werewolf is deadly serious—arguably horror’s most painful mutation. The body writhes and screams while elongating and sprouting fur. Claws appear where fingernails once were and the face becomes an animal-like snout equipped with whiskers, fur, and gnashing fangs. Given the screaming poor souls we see undergo this transformation, it’s safe to say the process hurts. So why then are so many modern werewolf movies played for laughs?
Yes, some entries in this curious subgenre are quite dramatic, examining the duality of man or female sexuality, but other titles are among the genre’s most beloved and successful horror comedies. Like peanut butter and chocolate, werewolves go hand in hand with humorous horror, casting an awkward and often insightful look into some of humanity’s most notorious biological events.
But why do we laugh while watching these outlandish stories of dichotomous life? And what can we learn about ourselves by examining the ferocious beast who might emerge from within our own skin?
Initially believed to be too scary for comedy and too humorous for horror, John Landis reportedly shelved his script for An American Werewolf in London for more than a decade. This story of two genial backpackers attacked by a werewolf on the English moors expertly blurs the line between genres and perfectly nails its quirky tone. When the werewolf attacks, Jack (Griffin Dunne) is immediately killed while David (David Naughton) survives gruesome bites, thus passing on the lycanthropic curse. In the early days of his recovery, Jack returns as a grisly corpse, warning David about the horrors that await and urging him to die by suicide before the next full moon. As David’s victims inevitably pile up, they join the ghoulish chorus, providing proof of the violence that now lies within.
Despite this upsetting plea, Landis maintains a lite and humorous tone with ingenious jump scares, dream scene fakeouts, and a gleeful soundtrack filled with nostalgic standards and poppy hits. David’s first transformation has become legendary in the horror community as a breathtaking triumph of practical effects. Set to Sam Cooke’s cover of “Blue Moon,” the scene feels both agonizing and endearing as our everyman hero watches himself become a monster. A smashcut to the doo-wop version of the iconic standard follows a devastating conclusion that sees a wolven David shot down in the street. On paper, this sounds like a hodgepodge of ridiculous ideas, but Landis manages to make it work thanks in large part to an incredibly likeable leading man. We experience these horrors through David’s relatable eyes and just when we’re tempted to get too sad, Landis hits us with another upbeat tune.
Teen Wolf (1985)
Four years later, we would get a similar story of strange transformation filtered through the lens of the ’80s teen comedy. Released at the peak of Brat Pack popularity, director Rod Daniels uses werewolf folklore to explore adolescent development and the never-ending quest to discover our true selves. Scott Howard (Michael J. Fox) is a dorky seventeen year old fed up with his average life. Unfortunately, the family’s lycanthropic legacy picks this moment to rear its head and Scott finds himself covered with long brown hair, glowing red eyes, gruesome claws, and a mouthful of fangs. Lamenting this newfound visibility, Scott exclaims to his similarly wolfish father, “Well, Dad it didn’t pass me by. It landed on my face.” The dorky basketball player agonizes over this horrific secret until accidentally transforming in the middle of a game. He’s dismayed to find that the Wolf—his animalistic persona—is more popular than ever.
Suddenly he’s a star athlete, an irresistible ladies man, and a featured actor in the school play. This overnight popularity leads to a crisis of confidence when his true friends begin to sour on the Wolf, preferring the Scott they knew before. The sympathetic werewolf must not only deal with the underlying aggression that accompanies each transformation but decide how much he’s willing to sacrifice for high school popularity. It’s a touching and hilarious coming-of-age story brought to life by one of history’s most beloved actors. Fox plays this juxtaposition just right, bringing out Scott’s inherent awkwardness contrasted with the undeniable charisma of his wolven alter-ego. Musical montages show the Wolf dunking a basketball, opening beer with his fangs, teaching his date to bowl, and doing handstands on top of a moving van. But Fox never forgets the human being inside the wolf suit, capturing the relatable pain of adolescence.
While some aspects of the film have lost their charm over the years, Teen Wolf remains one of the genre’s most unexpected and life-affirming horror comedies.
What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Another game changer in the genre landscape, What We Do in the Shadows merges the old with the new in a droll sendup of classic folklore. Written and directed by Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi, the film follows a clan of vampire flatmates as they film a reality TV-style documentary about their unusual lifestyle. After a night on the town, the quipping vampires wander past a pack of track suit-clad werewolves and cannot resist slinging a few insults. Alpha Male Anton (Rhys Darby) tries to calm the lycanthropes with a breathing mantra, “Count to 10, human again,” while reminding them to curb their foul language—after all, “we’re werewolves, not swear-wolves.”
These hilarious creatures reappear several times throughout the film, stealing each scene with their striking normalcy. Anton and his pack have hilarious and all-too-human solutions for the mundanity of the werewolf curse, including constantly shredded clothing, uncontrollable aggression, and the urge to chase sticks and mark territory by pissing everywhere. But despite their supernatural lifestyle, these werewolves remind us of the type of guy we might see at the hardware store, bump into at the pub, or play pickleball with on weekends. They seem just like you or I until the moment the full moon causes them to howl, sprout fur, and maul a hapless human to death.
Wolfcop (2014)
Lowell Dean’s cult classic Wolfcop pushes werewolf lore into the land of parody. Lou Garou (Leo Fafard) is an alcoholic officer tasked with keeping the small town of Woodhaven safe through an upcoming election. Called to investigate what he assumes to be Heavy Metal shenanigans, Garou witnesses an occult sacrifice and wakes up the next morning with a pentagram carved into his skin. While investigating the case, his body begins to change, culminating in a grisly werewolf transformation naturally beginning with his enlarged genitals. Does this slow Garou down? Of course not! Retaining his human intelligence, Wolfcop uses his newfound powers to clean up the streets of Woodhaven, foiling robberies, busting up meth labs, and even finding time to woo the local bartender.
But his lawful rampage runs afoul of sinister shapeshifters who rule Woodhaven behind the scenes. In fact, it seems they’ve created this supernatural predator as a future sacrifice to maintain power through the election. But they didn’t count on Garou’s alcoholism allowing him to withstand their spells. Dean revels in the ludicrous with one outlandish and unbelievable sequence after another. Wolfcop tricks out his cruiser, barks gruff one-liners, and has passionate sex all while covered in coarse, grayish-black fur. In a nod to Landis, many scenes are set to audacious original songs romanticizing the werewolf life and this dashing, if hairy leading man. No scenario is too ridiculous and Dean fully commits to the absurd bit, creating a curious anti-hero for the ages.
Werewolves Within (2021)
Josh Ruben’s uplifting comedy derives most of its humor not from a werewolf, but a town filled with misfits and an unlikely hero. Park Ranger Finn Wheeler (Sam Richardson) has just arrived in snowy Beaverfield when a mysterious beast begins terrifying the residents. A beloved pet is devoured, the generators have been sabotaged, and a mutilated body is found under the porch. When a visiting ecologist suggests lycanthropy, the residents race to uncover the wolfy murderer hiding in their midst. Personalities clash, suspicions arise and the beast does not reveal herself until after the town has come apart at the seams.
Mailperson Cecily (Milana Vayntrub) turns out to be the werewolf and admits to systematically stirring the pot, hoping to sow chaos for her intended prey. Finn seems personally offended by this betrayal though it’s not clear if he’s more upset by her extensive lies or the fact that she plans to eat them all. This genuinely kind man prides himself in lending a hand to help his neighbor and refuses to change just because the world turns out to be grim and cruel.
And perhaps that’s why we find such comfort and self-deprecating humor in werewolf tales. We’ve all gone through our own transformations whether trying to be popular, exploring new territory, dealing with unexpected physical conditions, or accepting our own goofy awkwardness. What is life but a journey to find ourselves, an often painful exploration of the monster—or nice guy—hiding inside. Maybe it takes coming face to face with a werewolf to find this truth within ourselves.
