Ted (Michael Paré) is attacked by a werewolf, and while he manages to kill the monster, he becomes one himself. He moves his trailer behind his sister Janet’s (Mariel Hemingway) house, but Thor, the dog, knows what he is.
Werewolf films are difficult to do right. They’re even difficult to do wrong. Of all the classic monsters, the werewolf is the cinematic failure. It’s been done right, most notably in 1941 with The Wolf Man, but I can count on one hand the good ones since, and Bad Moon isn’t one of them.
It starts promisingly enough with Ted and his girlfriend (Johanna Lebovitz) off in the jungle. They end up naked then she ends up sliced to pieces, and we’ve got a good, low-budge blood fest. Nothing brilliant, but fun.
Nope. That’s the last we see of topless women, and the blood flow drops to a trickle. All right, so it’s not going to be an exploitation film. Fine. Then it’s got to win me over with its complex plot, insightful theme, good acting, and clever dialog. Unfortunately, it has none of those. The plot barely exists and consists of Ted hanging in the backyard and Thor watching him. There is no theme (unless it’s “Don’t become a werewolf”). As for acting, it turns out that first death wasn’t a good thing as Lebovitz was the only one who displayed any acting talent. I’ll let you judge the dialog. Early on, Janet confronts a conman and utters the immortal words, “Do not mess with a lawyer on her own turf.”
I’m not sure I’d want to be Janet’s neighbor. The sheriff is a bit too laid back for me. He thinks Thor killed and horribly mutilated a guy, mentions it to Janet, and then leaves. He doesn’t take the dog or even look at him to see if he’s the culprit. Apparently, unlike in the Lost Skelleton of Cadavra, they don’t take their horrible mutilations seriously.
There are other “story” elements that don’t work, such as why Ted doesn’t stay away from those he loves, why he doesn’t work out something better than going out seconds before moonrise and handcuffing himself to a tree, and where does he buy the new set of jogging clothes he must need everyday, but those could only subtract from the film if it had some value.
The werewolf effects are pretty good for a small film, but can’t stand up to the light and attention they are given. A few more shadows and shorter cuts would have done wonders. The transformation scene is failed CGI. I know all films feel they must show the change on camera since An American Werewolf in London, but perhaps that should be reserved for films with substantial budgets.
All those other problems don’t matter because the film fails in a way that dooms a horror film. It’s boring. Even at a mere eighty minutes, it feels long. With little plot to take up time, the film is padded with minutes of Michael Pare and the dog staring at each other. And that’s not entertainment.