Oct 061935
 
three reels

Botonist Wilfred Glendon (Henry Hull) is bitten by a werewolf while searching for a rare moon-blossoming plant in Tibet. Upon his return to London, he is approached by Dr. Yogami (Warner Oland) and warned that there are now two werewolves in London, and the only hope for both are the flowers from the strange planet, which can treat, but not cure, the condition.

This is where the cinematic werewolf began, but Werewolf of London never reached the status of Universal’s other ‘30s monster movies.  It would take Lon Chaney Jr.’s The Wolf Man, six years later, to elevate a lycanthrope to the ranks of Frankenstein’s Monster, Dracula, The Mummy, and the Invisible Man. Still, that shouldn’t be held against this lesser, but still very enjoyable feature.

As the movie werewolf is a completely invented creature (folklore shape changers are very different entities), it should be no surprise that the rules of lycanthrope are different from what has become the standard. The only reason silver is necessary to kill a werewolf is because it’s stated in The Wolf Man.  Here, regular bullets will do nicely, any moonlight (not just a full moon) will cause the transformation, and a flower is the only treatment. However, the werewolf still seeks the one it loves.

In 1935, Universal was still uncomfortable with monster pictures. Uncertain of the reaction of censors and concerned with frightening audiences, Werewolf of London was far more restrained than it should have been. The monster makeup was deliberately made less terrifying, and the killings were few and mainly off screen (and of loose women which apparently don’t have as much of a right to life as proper citizens). That doesn’t mean the murders weren’t dramatic. And the werewolf design is actually very good as long as you aren’t expecting a more extreme beast. But turning up the intensity across the board would have made for a better film.

The script leans heavily on both Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and The Invisible Man. Glendon is an obsessed scientist, and while it is an external source that changes him rather than his own invention, the effects are pretty much the same as Dr. Jekyll’s potion. This werewolf isn’t a beast, but a man who can’t control his impulses.  He even puts on a cloak and hat before going out to kill.  Like The Invisible Man, Werewolf of London is filled with eccentric lower class characters (and a few upper class ones), that drink too much. Unlike the early film, it is these supporting characters that get all the good lines. The film is at its best in dialog-heavy scenes when the monsters are nowhere in sight.

Thematically, Werewolf of London touches on repressed emotions and the Theory of Evolution’s effects on society (when a high society gentleman sees some of Glendon’s more unusual plants, he comments on “
bringing a beastly thing like that into Christian England.”  However, nothing clear is said on either issue.

While there are many slight flaws with the film, it is one mistake that drops it from the classic it might have been. The heart of most werewolf films is in the pain of the protagonist as he struggles with his curse. For that to be engaging, the audience has to sympathize with the doomed man. But Glendon is too stuffy and unromantic to elicit any positive emotion from me. He’s not a bad man, exactly, but he’s inconsiderate, an uncaring husband, and obsessed with something of no interest to the viewer. Hull brings only an additional level of rigidity to the part. I didn’t for a second care if this guy lived or died; well, I may have leaned toward dying since then his wife could find a better match.  Again, the scriptwriter stole many of the character’s traits from earlier films, including Frankenstein, not realizing that no one loved that movie because of the doctor (it was the monster).

Werewolf of London is a fine film, firmly in the second tier of classic monster pictures, and forever in the shadow of The Wolf Man.

Back to WerewolvesBack to Mad ScientistsBack to Classic Horror