An American Werewolf in London (1981) – Review

In 1981 fur would literally fly as we were treated to a pair of werewolf movies taking the genre in two distinct directions; with Joe Dante’s The Howling turning the wolf-man tale into a subtle satire of the self-help movement of the 70s, while in An American Werewolf in London, John Landis managed to be both terrifying and darkly humorous without skipping a beat. Today, we will take a look at the latter film and what makes it one of the greatest werewolf films ever made.

The story follows two American backpackers, David Kessler (David Naughton) and Jack Goodman (Griffin Dunne), who are hiking through the eerie Yorkshire moors when they’re attacked by a werewolf, after a disturbing layover at a pub called The Slaughtered Lamb. Jack is brutally killed, and David survives, only to learn that maybe surviving wasn’t the best outcome. As David recovers in a London hospital, helped by lovely nurse Alex Price (Jenny Agutter), he begins to experience strange dreams and visions, including disturbing encounters with his now-deceased friend Jack, who appears as a decaying corpse. Jack warns David that he has become a werewolf and will transform at the next full moon unless he takes his own life to break the curse. It’s from Jack that we get some nice insight into being undead.

“Have you ever talked to a corpse? It’s boring.”

David, in denial at first, tries to focus on his romantic relationship with Alex – to be fair, if I were sleeping with Jenny Agutter that would be my focus as well – but the full moon rises and he undergoes a painful, horrifying transformation into a werewolf, a moment that would stun audiences worldwide. The most shocking aspect of the scene is how tangible and real the changes to David’s body appear. His hands elongate, his spine contorts, and his face stretches into the snout of a wolf. The camera lingers on the process, capturing the slow, painful progression. Unlike many werewolf transformations in previous films, which occurred in a blink or through brief dissolves, Landis and special effects genius Rick Baker wanted the audience to feel the physical torment of bones breaking and reshaping. The sound design, with the cracking of bones and the stretching of skin, heightens the horror and makes the experience as agonizing to listen to as it is to watch.

Who needs CGI when you can have stuff like this?

What sets this transformation apart from other werewolf films is its intense focus on the pain and helplessness of the person transforming. David does not simply “become” a werewolf; he endures the transformation. His screams of agony and shock echo through the scene, making it clear that this is not a mystical or romantic metamorphosis—it is a violent and horrifying event. In many werewolf films, the transformation is depicted as a loss of humanity, but Landis emphasizes how that loss is experienced as a physical and psychological trauma. David’s humanity is literally torn apart as his body becomes something else, something he has no control over.

Rick Baker gives David a very bad day.

Landis’s decision to set the transformation in a well-lit room, with no supernatural mist or shadows, subverts the expectations of traditional werewolf lore. In earlier films, transformations often occurred off-screen, with characters slipping into the darkness and emerging fully transformed, as in 1941’s The Wolf Man. The transformation in An American Werewolf in London is the opposite: it is bright, clear, and leaves nothing to the imagination. The scene presents lycanthropy not as a supernatural curse to be feared but as a grotesque and unstoppable force of nature.

“Please, hand me my Special Make-Up Effects Oscar, now.”

Beneath the surface horror of the transformation lies a deeper thematic concern with alienation and the loss of identity. David is not just turning into a werewolf; he is losing himself, becoming a creature ruled by instinct and bloodlust. His body is no longer his own, and with each painful contortion, he is distanced from the person he once was. The audience watches David’s humanity being erased in real time, leaving only the monstrous behind. This taps into a primal fear of losing control over one’s own body and mind, a theme that resonates far beyond the realm of werewolf mythology. Landis and Baker redefined the werewolf mythos by turning a classic horror transformation into an experience of pain and terror that the audience can feel on a deeply visceral level. Even after more than 40 years, it remains a landmark achievement in both horror cinema and special effects, standing as a testament to the power of practical artistry in filmmaking.

It doesn’t get much better than this.

Stray Observations:

• In An American Werewolf in London, the full moon triggers the transformation, and no silver bullet is required to kill the beast, while in The Howling, it’s the complete opposite.
• David undergoes his transformation on two consecutive nights, but there is only one full moon during a lunar cycle.
• This film has one of my all-time favourite movie quotes: “A naked American man stole my balloons.” It’s such a brilliant and absurd moment.
• A running John Landis joke gets a larger appearance in this outing when David and Jack visit a porn theatre that is showing “See You Next Wednesday.”
• The film was scored by legendary composer Elmer Bernstein, but it’s mostly known for its ironic collection of moon-themed needle drops, including “Bad Moon Rising” and “Blue Moon,” which play against some of the film’s most intense moments.
• The British SWAT team riddled the werewolf from fifty feet away, amazingly missing Alex, who was standing in front of the wolf. That’s some fine shooting.
• The key difference between this film and countless other werewolf movies was the decision to go with a four-legged wolf and not the more typical bipedal lycanthrope.

“Lon Chaney Jr. eat your heart out.”

Landis’s film reimagines the traditional werewolf myth in several ways, injecting it with a modern sensibility. While classic werewolf films like The Wolf Man focused on the idea of lycanthropy as a tragic curse, Landis gives this theme a contemporary twist by exploring the psychological toll it takes on David. The film’s depiction of David’s transformation into a werewolf was less about the supernatural and more about the body horror of losing control over one’s own physical form. At the same time, An American Werewolf in London retains a sense of the supernatural, with Jack’s ghost serving as a link between the living and the dead. Jack’s appearances add a layer of horror to the film, as he represents the consequences of David’s actions with the idea that David is responsible for creating more victims, who will remain trapped in a kind of limbo until he dies, adding a moral dimension to the story. David is not just turning into a monster—he is creating a trail of death and suffering that he cannot escape.

Well, there’s an escape, just not a happy one.

One of the most remarkable aspects of An American Werewolf in London is how successfully it blends horror and comedy, two genres that often seem at odds with one another. Landis, who had previously directed comedies like Animal House and The Blues Brothers, brings a sharp comedic sensibility to the film without undermining its horror elements. The film’s humour is often dry and ironic, and it emerges naturally from the characters and situations rather than being forced or slapstick. For example, those interactions between David and Jack’s decomposing ghost, who appears to warn him of his fate, are laced with dark humour. Jack’s increasingly decayed state is both grotesque and funny, as he casually discusses David’s imminent transformation into a werewolf while pieces of his flesh fall off.

The make-up effects just get darker and more disturbing.

However, while the film is often humorous, it never loses its sense of dread. The opening sequence, in which David and Jack are attacked on the moors, sets a tone of foreboding that permeates the film. The eerie atmosphere of the moors, the tension-building conversations in the Slaughtered Lamb pub, and the sudden, brutal attack remind us that despite the comedic moments, the film is ultimately a horror story. Landis’s ability to oscillate between humour and terror keeps us on the edge of our seats, creating a film that is unpredictable in its tone and approach.

A gallery of grim but surprisingly upbeat victims.

As a whole, this is one of the great werewolf movies with that transformation scene set a new standard for horror films, inspiring countless other movies to push the boundaries of practical effects. Films like The Howling and The Thing would follow in its footsteps, using similar techniques to create grotesque, body-horror transformations. Even decades later, the scene remains unmatched in its visceral power and attention to detail. While CGI has largely replaced practical effects in modern horror, the scene’s reliance on physical, real-world materials gives it a timeless quality. It feels gritty, raw, and most importantly, real.

Even when things get a little surreal.

In conclusion, An American Werewolf in London is not just a great horror film—it is a masterclass in genre filmmaking, blending practical effects, psychological depth, and dark humour to create a film that is both terrifying and poignant. Its legacy is one of innovation and influence, and it remains a cornerstone of 1980s horror cinema.