In the blood moon of 1981, two films unleashed their lycanthropic fury upon the world. But only one could claim the crown of ultimate werewolf mastery.
1981 stands as a landmark year for werewolf cinema, with Joe Dante’s The Howling and John Landis’s An American Werewolf in London crashing into theatres mere months apart. Both pictures redefined the monster’s cinematic legacy through groundbreaking practical effects, sharp wit laced with gore, and a fresh take on ancient folklore. This showdown pits their snarling beasts against each other across transformations, tone, cultural impact, and more, to settle once and for all: who did it better?
- The visceral transformation sequences, where Rick Baker’s agony-infused realism in An American Werewolf in London clashes with Rob Bottin’s explosive grotesquerie in The Howling.
- A tonal tightrope walk: Landis’s blend of horror and comedy versus Dante’s descent into cultish paranoia.
- Enduring legacies that reshaped special effects, influenced remakes, and embedded themselves in pop culture’s primal howl.
Origins in the Full Moonlight
Both films emerged from a post-Jaws Hollywood hungry for practical effects spectacles, yet each drew from distinct wells of inspiration. The Howling, scripted by John Sayles from Gary Brandner’s novel, began as a low-budget project at producer Michael Finler’s company, International Film Investors. Joe Dante, fresh off Piranha, infused it with satirical bite, transforming a simple werewolf tale into a commentary on self-help cults and repressed sexuality. Filming wrapped in just 32 days, with Rob Bottin, a 21-year-old prodigy, crafting effects that pushed latex and animatronics to their limits.
An American Werewolf in London originated from John Landis’s script scribbled during the production of National Lampoon’s Animal House. Landis, envisioning a horror-comedy hybrid, secured backing from PolyGram after pitching it as a mix of scares and laughs. Shot on location in England and Yorkshire moors, it featured Rick Baker, Landis’s longtime collaborator, who spent years perfecting the central metamorphosis. Released first in August 1981, it grossed over $30 million domestically, paving the way for The Howling‘s January 1982 debut.
These origins highlight divergent paths: Dante’s film as a scrappy indie satire, Landis’s as a polished studio venture. Yet both tapped into 1970s anxieties—urban alienation for Werewolf, countercultural excess for Howling—while nodding to classics like The Wolf Man (1941). Universal’s iconic creature influenced their designs, but practical effects innovations marked the true evolution.
Production hurdles further shaped them. The Howling battled censorship woes; the MPAA demanded 11 cuts for its R rating, including toning down a notorious sex-werewolf transformation. Landis faced union issues shooting in the UK and endured Baker’s grueling 10-month effects labour. These challenges forged authenticity, grounding supernatural horror in tangible craftsmanship.
Transformation Terrors: Baker Versus Bottin
No discussion of these films escapes their showpiece metamorphoses, where human flesh rebels in agonising detail. Rick Baker’s sequence in An American Werewolf in London unfolds in David Naughton’s bathroom, a masterclass in body horror. Naughton’s real-time contortions—bones cracking, eyes bulging, hair sprouting—blend prosthetics, animatronics, and Naughton’s athleticism. Baker used a custom hydraulic chair for limb extensions, filming in one unbroken take over hours. The result? A symphony of pain that earned Baker the first Oscar for Best Makeup.
Rob Bottin’s work in The Howling counters with explosive flair. Dee Wallace’s Karen White transforms in a cabin blaze, her body elongating into a seven-foot wolf-man hybrid via air-powered rams and foam latex appliances. Bottin, inspired by Alien, layered 20+ pieces per shot, discarding 80% of his prototypes. Unlike Baker’s internal agony, Bottin’s is external eruption, symbolising repressed urges bursting forth.
Technically, Baker edges in realism; his effects mimic physiological trauma, drawing from medical texts on deformities. Bottin prioritises fantasy, with oversized jaws and elastic limbs evoking cartoonish excess. Critics like those in Fangoria hailed both, but Baker’s Oscar nod cemented precedence. Yet Howling‘s finale—werewolves bursting from human skins—prefigures The Thing (1982), Bottin’s later triumph.
Sound design amplifies these scenes. Werewolf‘s squelches and snaps, by Brian Glover’s foley team, heighten intimacy. Howling‘s howls, layered by Richard H. Kline, evoke pack primalism. Visually, Dante’s Steadicam prowls add paranoia; Landis’s steady shots immerse in dread.
Tonal Claws: Comedy, Gore, and Subversion
An American Werewolf in London masters tonal balance, weaving belly laughs amid gore. Griffin Dunne’s undead Jack, rotting yet chatty, punctures horror with absurdity—discussing meat pies in a porno theatre. Landis, a comedy veteran, uses this to humanise the beast, exploring guilt and isolation. Naughton’s everyman charm sells the tragedy, making his lunar rampages poignant.
The Howling leans satirical, skewering California’s wellness scene. The colony’s “good vibrations” mask lycanthropy, with Patrick Macnee’s Dr. Waggner preaching alpha wolf therapy. Dante’s direction—wide lenses distorting idylls—builds unease, culminating in TV-broadcast carnage. Dee Wallace’s arc from victim to avenger flips damsel tropes.
Gender dynamics differ sharply. Werewolf‘s Jenny Agutter nurses Naughton sexually, reinforcing male monstrosity. Howling empowers Wallace, her kill-shot reclaiming agency. Class undertones emerge too: Landis’s tourists versus natives; Dante’s elite colony devouring outsiders.
Horror pedigree shines in pacing. Landis delays the wolf with undead visitations, building dread. Dante hooks early with a peep-show slaying, escalating to colony siege. Both subvert expectations—Werewolf ends bleakly, Howling with media farce.
Effects Extravaganza: Practical Magic Dissected
Practical effects define these beasts, predating CGI dominance. Baker’s werewolf suit for Naughton weighed 60 pounds, with radio-controlled eyes and jaws operated off-screen. He pioneered full-body casts, allowing Naughton mobility for chases. The moors attack used a trained wolf-dog hybrid, seamlessly integrated.
Bottin’s arsenal included pneumatic skeletons for extension, vacuum-formed skulls, and cable-pulled musculature. The colony werewolves varied—furry footmen to elongated alphas—each a bespoke nightmare. His burnout post-production foreshadowed Legend collapse, but Howling‘s effects won Saturn Awards.
Influence ripples wide. Baker’s Oscar opened makeup categories; both inspired Harry and the Hendersons (1987) and Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001). Modern nods appear in The Wolverine (2013). Their tactility—sweat-slick latex, tearing fabric—outshines digital peers.
Cinematography elevates: John Hora’s blues in Howling chill; Robert Paynter’s London fogs brood. Editing by Mark Goldblatt (Howling) and Paul Beeson (Werewolf) syncs effects to rhythm, maximising impact.
Legacy’s Savage Bite
An American Werewolf in London spawned a limp sequel (1985) and 2010 remake attempt, but its cultural footprint endures—parodied in Family Guy, referenced in American Horror Story. Baker’s transformation tops “scariest scenes” lists, influencing The Faculty (1998).
The Howling birthed seven sequels, veering into direct-to-video schlock, yet Dante’s original anchors the canon. It inspired Wolf (1994) and Ginger Snaps (2000), its cult satire echoing in Midsommar (2019).
Box office favoured Landis ($30m US vs. $17.9m), but Howling‘s cult status grew via VHS. Both revitalised werewolves post-Dracula slump, bridging Hammer era to modern fare like The Wolfman (2010).
Who wins? Werewolf for sheer polish and iconic transformation; Howling for thematic depth and ensemble effects. Together, they howl eternally.
Director in the Spotlight
Joe Dante, born November 28, 1946, in Morristown, New Jersey, grew up idolising Looney Tunes and B-movies, studying at the Philadelphia College of Art before diving into film criticism for Current magazine. His break came via Roger Corman at New World Pictures, editing trailers then directing Hollywood Boulevard (1976) with John Landis. Piranha (1978) showcased his satirical horror flair, blending Jaws homage with ecological jabs.
The Howling (1981) cemented his reputation, followed by Gremlins (1984), a blockbuster mixing cute terror with suburbia critique, grossing $153 million. Explorers (1985) flopped but launched Ethan Hawke. Innerspace (1987), with Dennis Quaid and Martin Short, earned Saturn and Hugo nods for effects.
The 1990s brought Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990), a bolder sequel skewering corporate America; Matinee (1993), a nostalgic Corman tribute starring John Goodman; and Small Soldiers (1998), toy wars with anti-militarism. Looney Tunes: Back in Action (2003) revived Bugs Bunny live-action style.
Television credits include Eerie, Indiana (1991-92), The Phantom pilot, and CSNY/Déjà Vu (2008). Recent works: Burying the Ex (2014), zombie rom-com; Nightmare Cinema (2018) anthology segment; The Last Days of American Crime (2020) Netflix adaptation. Influences span Tex Avery to Jean-Luc Godard; Dante champions practical effects, mentoring via Trailers from Hell.
Filmography highlights: Piranha (1978, eco-horror satire); The Howling (1981, werewolf cult classic); Gremlins (1984, holiday monster hit); Innerspace (1987, body comedy); Gremlins 2 (1990); Matinee (1993); Small Soldiers (1998); Looney Tunes: Back in Action (2003); Hole in the Heart (2007, short); The Hole (2009, dimensional horror).
Actor in the Spotlight
Dee Wallace, born December 14, 1948, in Kansas City, Missouri, as Deanna Bowers, overcame a turbulent childhood to study at the University of Kansas, then pursued acting in New York. After commercials and soaps like The Secret Storm, she landed Hollywood roles, exploding with 10 (1979) opposite Dudley Moore.
E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) as maternal Mary Taylor cemented her “mother” archetype, earning Saturn nomination. The Howling (1981) showcased horror chops as Karen White, blending vulnerability and ferocity. Cujo (1983) followed, screaming against rabid terror.
1980s-90s: Critters (1986), gremlin comedy; Shadows and Fog (1991) with Woody Allen; Rescue Me (1992). Television shone in Amazing Stories, The Twilight Zone revival, and Lost World. Stage work included One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
2000s resurgence: 13 Ghosts (2001); The Lords of Salem (2012) for Rob Zombie; Don’t Let Him In (2021). Over 200 credits, she authored Rescuing Birds (animal advocacy) and teaches workshops. Awards: Life Career Award (FrightFest 2014), Fangoria Chainsaw noms.
Filmography highlights: 10 (1979, romantic comedy); The Howling (1981, werewolf breakthrough); E.T. (1982, iconic mom); Cujo (1983, survival horror); Critters (1986); Shadow Play (1986); RoboCop (1987, minor); The Hills Have Eyes remake (2006); The House of the Devil (2009); She’s a Fox (2023, recent indie).
Bibliography
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Knobelspiess, T. (2018) Werewolves: A Guide to the Transformations in Film. Albany: BearManor Media.
Landis, J. (2009) Interview: ‘An American Werewolf at 30’. Empire Magazine. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com/movies/features/american-werewolf-london-john-landis-interview/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).
Shone, T. (2012) ‘Practical Magic: Rick Baker and Rob Bottin’. The New Yorker. Available at: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/richard-baker-rob-bottin-werewolf-effects (Accessed: 20 October 2023).
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