The new Wolfman movie is garbage. This film is like a werewolf itself, but instead of transforming into something terrifying, it just turns into a shambling mess of clichés and missed opportunities. From the get-go, it’s clear that this movie was a labor of confusion rather than love—a project that seems to have been cursed from script to screen.
Let’s dive into the plot, shall we? It’s about as original as a reheated TV dinner. We’ve got a bloke, some cabin in the middle of nowhere, and a werewolf curse that’s supposed to make you jump out of your seat. Instead, it makes you jump to the remote to check if there’s anything better on other channels. The story meanders more than a lost sheep, with subplots that feel like they were thrown in just to pad out the runtime. There’s no coherent narrative arc. Instead, we’re treated to a series of events that feel disconnected, like watching different episodes of a show out of order.
The climax—if you can call it that—is as satisfying as a flat soda. There’s no fizz, no excitement, just a bland resolution that leaves you wondering what the point was.
And the characters? Oh, the characters. Christopher Abbott and Julia Garner, two fine actors, are given scripts that seem to have been written by someone who’s never heard of character development. Their performances are like watching someone try to squeeze water from a stone. Their chemistry is non-existent; it’s like they’re in different movies, awkwardly trying to act like they’re in love. There’s no spark, no connection.
Abbott’s portrayal of the tormented protagonist lacks depth, coming off as irritably confused rather than tragically cursed. Garner’s character is given even less to work with, serving more as a plot device than a person with motivations or fears. The supporting cast is equally forgettable, with roles so poorly written and underdeveloped they might as well have been placeholders.
The creature design is a travesty. This Wolfman looks like he’s been styled by someone who thinks the height of horror fashion is a bad Halloween mask from the dollar store. There’s no horror, no awe—just a CGI mess that looks like it was done by someone who’s only ever seen werewolf movies through a fog of confusion. The transformation scenes, which should be the highlight of any werewolf film, are so poorly executed that they rob the movie of any potential terror or wonder. Instead of awe-inspiring, they’re laughably bad, with CGI that feels more at home in a video game from the early 2000s than in a modern horror flick.
The direction is about as inspired as a piece of toast. There are moments where you can see they were trying to channel some of that classic werewolf movie magic, but it’s all lost in a sea of bad decisions. The cinematography can’t decide if it wants to be moody or just plain dark. The editing feels like it was done by someone with a stopwatch rather than a vision. The film struggles to create any atmosphere or tension, with scenes that drag on aimlessly or cut away too soon to build any real suspense.
The score, which could have salvaged something from this wreck, is forgettable at best, failing to punctuate the few moments that might have had some impact. The sound design is equally lackluster, with jump scares telegraphed from a mile away, lacking the subtlety or shock needed for genuine horror.
In conclusion, Wolfman 2025 isn’t just a bad movie—it’s a betrayal of the legacy of werewolf cinema. It’s a film that sucks the life out of a genre that should be vibrant, terrifying, and engaging. If you love werewolves, save yourself the pain and give this one a miss. It’s not just that it sucks—it’s that it’s a complete waste of time that could have been spent on something, anything, better. This film doesn’t just miss the mark; it seems to have forgotten what the mark was in the first place.
