A young, teenage girl, Rosaleen (Sarah Patterson), dealing poorly both physically and mentally with the onset of menstruation, dreams of a dark, fairytale world where werewolves are a constant threat. In the dream, her father (David Warner) hunts the wolves while her Grandmother (Angela Lansbury) tells her frightening stories. Eventually, she has to don her red, hooded cloak and heads for Grandmother’s house.
The Company of Wolves is a case of symbolism gone mad. Did the filmmakers fear the viewers would miss the first fifty metaphors, or was it just a game for them to see if they could make a film were everything represents something else? The subject is awakening sexuality and a woman’s coming of age, so the forest is filled with phallic plants and bestial, hairy men while Rosaleen drapes herself in a menses-colored cloak.
To go with the insane parade of representative imagery, there is little of plot or character. Both have only the depth of a fairytale, which is fine when reading a ten-page story by Perrault, but leaves an hour and a half feature feeling empty. Since only the symbols are important or developed, they need to convey a remarkable insight. They do not. Yes, girls grow up. Yes, it can be a troubling and confusing time for some. That’s about it. Does anyone need lolloping wolves and lipstick in birds’ eggs to illustrate this?
Not that there isn’t some fun in watching the bloated production. It is colorful, and while the sets appear as artificial as the behavior of the characters, they are beautifully ethereal. And once Rosaleen finally sets out as Little Red Riding Hood on the road to Grandma’s house, I was reasonably engaged.
In the 1980s, dynamic werewolf transitions were the rage. An American Werewolf in London and The Howling spent copious screen time focusing on these changes. Few of these ’80s-style special effects hold up, and most were disasters at the time. The Company of Wolves has several on-screen shape changes which vary from weak to ridiculous. One inspires giggles, which is troubling in a scene that is supposed to demonstrate danger and sexuality.
The fine performances of the actors, particularly Sarah Patterson, and the attractive design almost elevate the film to something worth more than a single, haphazard viewing, but they cannot overcome the pretension, simplicity, and sometimes lagging pace. The Company of Wolves is not nearly as smart as its makers surely thought it to be.