No Guts

Any film that stars Jenny Agutter might hold at least a visceral interest for me, but somehow I have never liked AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON. Watching the film again on Blu Ray, I can see no improvements, but I can see with digital sharpness the details that undermine the story.

The film tears itself apart. It wants to be a horror film, but instead of atmosphere, it offers flat lighting more suited to a television show, and pop songs instead of a haunting score. (Elmer Bernstein could have easily provided effective music if the director and producers had given him priority.)

Worst of all, the film develops hints of tragedy that remain unfulfilled, because it cuts away quickly from its final sequence of death and loss, only to punctuate its lack of spine with another pop song.

Even the funniest films can deal with sadness and with high stakes. Keaton began OUR HOSPITALITY with a murder, to show the real threat against his protagonist, and he set THE GENERAL at the heart of the American civil war. Lubitsch refused to be a diplomat when he showed the Nazi invasion of Poland in TO BE OR NOT TO BE, and the death of someone loved is the backbone that makes HEAVEN CAN WAIT meaningful.

If, at the end, AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON had not shied away from the death of its protagonist, had not wiped away its mood with a sudden pop song, but had relied, instead, on music of honest emotion, and had lingered on a final reaction shot of its excellent actress, the film could have survived anything, even its flat lighting and TV show monotony. Courage makes all the difference.