Review: Werewolves Within pokes fun at American politics and sneaky lycans, in that order
Imagine a werewolf story where the coming of the full moon is the least of the main character’s worries given he’s surrounded by a group of people more invested in the construction of a pipeline than the prospect of being torn to shreds by a lycanthrope. That, in a nutshell, is Werewolves Within, directed by Josh Ruben and written by Mishna Wolff.
Based on the VR game of the same name, Werewolves Within centers on a group of people forced to stay together under a single roof, during a snowstorm, just as a series of grizzly happenings have scared everyone into thinking a werewolf is loose on the small town of Beavertown.
The story unravels like a game of Clue, where every character is a suspect, only in this case the suspicion revolves around the identity of the werewolf. And yet, the movie takes a sharp turn into oddball political paranoia, in which each suspect is a unique caricature of American politics that makes them as predictable as they are dangerous. It’s as if everything is split between party lines, right down to the way the group should go about solving the mystery.
The main divide that pits each character against each other is the potential construction of a pipeline through the natural beauty that surrounds Beavertown. A bullyish, macho oil man is all for the pipeline and is trying to get as many residents to his side as possible while an environmentalist, a forest ranger, a mailperson, the owner of the local inn, and a rich gay couple stand it total opposition to it.
A woman with small business aspirations (and a cute small dog called Chachi), her creepy grabby husband, and a money-hungry couple are all for the pipeline. Alliances are drawn from each side’s prejudices against the other and that’s where the movie finds its groove.
Werewolves Within’s two main leads, Finn and Cecily (played by Sam Richardson and Milana Vayntrub respectively), are the glue that keeps everything together. Finn is Beavertown’s new forest ranger and Cecily is the town’s mailperson. Their chemistry carries an undeniable pull that immediately places them as people worthy of trust in case of a werewolf crisis. They’re easy to root for, which makes all the violence around them bite that much harder.
What’s smart about the two leads is that they function as balancing agents, towing the line between the left-leaning suspects and the pro-pipeline right-wingers. To be clear, I don’t believe the movie is a right-wing bashing free-for-all where the more liberal camp comes out as the clear winner. Each side is a caricature of itself and the movie invites making fun of everyone.
You might’ve already noticed I haven’t mentioned the werewolf that much. There’s a reason for that, but I’ll let the movie do the talking on that front. I’ll say this, the direction they take it in is whip-smart and well worth the many twists and turns the movie throws at its audience at nearly every turn.
Werewolves Within is a remarkable satire of our current political climate and it uses horror conventions just as well as it subverts them to make it stand out. It serves a higher purpose and it’s all the better for it. It has quite a few tricks up its sleeves, and you’ll laugh hard through each one as you try to figure who is and who isn’t an asshole. I mean, who is or who isn’t a werewolf.
Archie Comics’ horror imprint shifts from zombies, witches, and vampires in the gut wrenching and emotionally destructive Jughead: The Hunger #1 from writer Frank Tieri, artist Michael Walsh, and co-colorist Dee Cunniffe. Opening with the adorable old lady version of Miss Grundy getting brutally killed by the Riverdale Ripper, the comic, like the other Archie horror books, transposes the character qualities of these iconic characters into another genre. What if Jughead’s great appetite for burgers and various and sundry junk food extended to human flesh? What if Betty has great determination because she comes from a long line of fierce warriors? Tieri makes a smart choice by not really changing who Archie is as a character. He is loyal to Jughead to a fault even when he witnesses him murder Dilton Doily as a werewolf. Poor, silly Archie.
more heightened experience. Tieri and Walsh create even more tension by quickly juxtaposing townfolks looking at Miss Grundy’s body to Jughead going to town on a plate of food, including a whole fish on a burger, at an all you can eat buffet. Walsh and Cunniffe’s color palette does its job again switching out the usual brightness of Jughead’s solo book or appearances in Archie for something washed out and sickly. The ketchup on his face could easily be blood, and Tieri and Walsh revisit this image for horrific effect later on when Jughead realizes that his great appetite has been sated because he’s been supplementing burgers and fries with the people he cares about the most.