The Curse of the Werewolf (1961) – Review

With this entry, Hammer Films sinks its claws into the werewolf mythos with Gothic flair, delivering a moody, atmospheric take on lycanthropy, and with the great Oliver Reed as the title creature, this had all the earmarks of being a horror classic. What could possibly go wrong?

Set in 18th-century Spain, The Curse of the Werewolf begins with the tragic tale of a beggar (Richard Wordsworth) who is imprisoned and brutally mistreated after offending a cruel nobleman (Anthony Dawson). Years later, the beggar’s fate intertwines with that of a mute servant girl (Yvonne Romain) who is also subjected to cruelty within the nobleman’s household. The servant eventually escapes but is raped by the beggar before he dies in his cell. The result of this traumatic union is Leon, a child born on Christmas Day—a circumstance that, according to local superstition, curses him with a monstrous destiny.

Puberty is a bitch, especially when you’re cursed.

Adopted by a kind couple, Don Alfredo Corledo (Clifford Evans) and his servant Teresa (Hira Talfrey), Leon grows up in a loving home but begins to show signs of a horrifying affliction. As he reaches adulthood, his cursed bloodline reveals itself in violent, uncontrollable episodes that coincide with the full moon. Leon (Oliver Reed) struggles to suppress the beast within, yearning for normalcy and love. He finds hope in the form of Christina Fernando (Catherine Feller), the daughter of a wealthy landowner, whose affection seems to soothe his tortured soul. However, Leon’s attempts to lead a normal life are thwarted as his transformations into a werewolf grow more frequent and deadly. Despite his own anguish and the efforts of those who care for him, Leon’s curse consumes him, leaving a trail of tragedy in its wake.

Can beauty soothe this savage beast?

Tormented by his condition and desperate to prevent himself from harming others, Leon seeks help, but his transformation into a werewolf becomes inevitable. As his monstrous side takes hold, the townspeople grow increasingly terrified, leading to a climactic confrontation in which Leon’s tragic fate is sealed. This is a Gothic tale of fate, love, and monstrous duality, one that explores the human struggle against inherited darkness, set against Hammer Studios’ signature backdrop of richly atmospheric horror. Sadly, what it doesn’t have is much in the way of werewolf action and the final confrontation, in the bell tower of a church, seems abrupt and rather anticlimactic.

“Has anyone seen a hunchback?”

Stray Observations:

• Joe Dante named one of the characters in The Howling after director Terence Fisher, who helmed this werewolf outing.
• When the baby is taken to the church to be baptized, a storm rolls in and the baptismal font begins to boil. I started to wonder if the kid was supposed to be a werewolf or the anti-Christ.
• This may star Oliver Reed as the titular werewolf, but he doesn’t show up until the 47-minute mark of a film that only runs 93 minutes.
• That we don’t get to see Reed in full werewolf make-up until the film’s last ten minutes will most likely disappoint fans of werewolf movies.
• The interiors of the inn where Leon is staying is the same interior from Dracula’s castle in 1958’s Horror of Dracula. Sadly, we never got a sequel where Oliver Reed fought Dracula.

“I could totally take on Frankenstein’s Monster.”

This was Oliver Reed’s first credited screen role, and with his portrayal of Leon, we get a nice brooding intensity, giving a heart-wrenching depiction of a man tortured and now begging to be murdered for the things he’s done. He brings a mix of vulnerability and raw power that elevates the character beyond a typical monster archetype. His transformation scenes—while not all that impressive—are emotionally charged and showcase his physicality. However, it’s Reed’s intensity and charisma that elevate what might otherwise have been a clichéd role. Unfortunately, the rest of the cast is not so compelling, ranging from over-the-top performances to nothing more than walking stereotypes. Except for Catherine Feller as Christina, their romance is both poignant and romantic, adding nicely to the whole cursed aspect and is the last bit of glue that holds this film together.

The ultimate in complicated relationships.

As with most Hammer productions, the film excels in creating a rich, Gothic atmosphere, with sets that are drenched in shadows and candlelight, and the use of Spanish architecture and costumes adds an exotic layer to the usual Hammer aesthetic. As for the werewolf itself, the makeup, designed by Roy Ashton, is iconic in its simplicity, emphasizing Leon’s anguish as much as his monstrous nature. The transformation sequences are restrained but effective, relying on clever editing and Reed’s physicality rather than flashy effects. And the attacks themselves mostly happen in shadow, or we just see some furry hands. The gore is also limited; Hammer Films were not known for their restraint when it comes to blood, but this werewolf film has surprisingly little blood.

That’s pretty mild for a werewolf attack.

Thematically, The Curse of the Werewolf attempts to explore the tragic consequences of violence and cruelty, as Leon’s curse stems from the circumstances of his illegitimate birth, born of a mute servant raped by a deranged beggar. This origin story is unconventional and ambitious, aiming to weave social commentary into the fabric of the horror genre. However, the film falters under the weight of its own ambition. The opening act, which spends an inordinate amount of time detailing the grim backstory of Leon’s parents, feels overly long and disconnected from the central narrative. By the time the focus shifts to Leon as an adult, much of the film’s momentum has been lost, leaving the middle section to laboriously rebuild tension. Also, it’s not a good idea to have the viewer asking questions like “Am I watching a werewolf film?”

Werewolf or not, Oliver Reed was one handsome dude.

In conclusion, The Curse of the Werewolf is an uneven but intriguing entry in Hammer’s filmography. Its evocative atmosphere, Reed’s compelling performance, and the studio’s trademark gothic style make it worth a watch for fans of classic horror. Yet, its sluggish pacing, disjointed narrative, and occasionally problematic themes prevent it from achieving the same heights as Hammer’s best works. And while it may lack the relentless terror of other werewolf films like 1941’s The Wolf Man – lacking much in the of werewolf action – its unique blend of Gothic melodrama and psychological depth ensures it leaves a lasting impression. It’s a must-watch for fans of classic horror and those who appreciate the artistry of Hammer Films.