Wild Country

Seriously I could write not only a book, but a series of books about bad werewolf movies. Unfortunately my love of lycanthropes dictates that I watch as many movies based on them as humanly possible, no matter how bad I know they're going to be. For some reason the werewolf seems to be a creature that few will ever get right, for every Silver Bullet there are a hundred Werewolf 96's, for every Ginger Snaps there are a hundred Romasanta's. The werewolf genre is definitely one that is not exactly littered with shining examples, though the ones that are really good tend to be held in the highest regard, An American Werewolf in London, anyone?



Well tonight I treated myself to one of Netflix's newest recommendations from the werewolf section (yes they have a werewolf section, and yes I've seen pretty much every film in it), Wild Country. The movie had pretty much every single thing wrong with it that you can imagine, though in it's defense it's biggest offense was probably not entirely it's fault. I REALLY want to believe that the reason the werewolves looked like muppets was because of budgetary constraints, because there's simply no way anyone saw these things before filming started and thought they had struck lycanthropic gold. I was embarrassed for them.



The story itself tried, and I give the writers credit for that, the story at least kept me interested. A group of kids are doing an overnight hike through what appeared to be the Scottish Moors when they hear a baby crying from a nearby abandoned castle. They head out toward the sobs, find and rescue the baby, and then are one by one taken out by the beast.



There's a little twist at the end, which I saw coming from pretty much the very first time the baby was introduced, but still I can't fault them for at least attempting something different. Other than that, there's not much to like here. Gorehounds may come away feeling somewhat satisfied by the throat ripping, which there was plenty of, and one scene where the larger werewolf bit a guy almost in half, spilling entrails.

All that said, if you like werewolf flicks as much as I do, you're probably still planning on watching it, and I feel for you. For those of the not-so-die hard werewolf fan variety, save your 80 minutes and go watch Ginger Snaps Unleashed again. You'll thank me for it.