Review
by Bluntinstrument
The Wolfman is the tale of an astranged son returning
to the lonely near-derelict mansion home of his father and sister-in-law
to help investigate the brutal slaughter of his brother in the nearby
forest. As supernatual horror films go, this attempts more than most to
return to the fog-drenched mouldering Victorian roots of the cinematic
genre, even going so far as pitting a gypsy encampment against an equally
superstitious isolated village with the gossip mill firelight comforts
of the tavern at its centre. Include the London detective and the recipe
is gathered for a Hound of the Baskervilles feast. Having set this
up, together with a fine cast including Anthony Hopkins, Benicio Del Toro,
and Hugo Weaving, it is a shame that one is too mindful of its failures
to appreciate its strengths. Hopkins is not so much mysterious or reclusive
as muddled in motive and act, Del Toro is rendered bland through given
little chance to exhibit the personal scars of his backstory. Weaving
has the most characterful lines but his liveliness is a jarring contrast
to drabber characters too poorly sketched. The plot feels well-paced at
first, atmospheric and expectant, but subsequent to the main character's
infection this is lost through cuts to the narrative and the niggling
feeling that a different director has added in an avalanche of shockers
(pouncing dogs, dreams within dreams, etc.) that grow more tiresome as
their effect dwindles. This is a shame because, aside from a few CGI mis-steps,
this should be a brave and entertaining addition to classic horror, grounded
in the age-old theme of one man's confrontation with his past and his
nature.
Into this particular mix, Elfman chooses a particularly
dark and heartless pallette, dominated by strings and horns; wind and
percussion are limited, all other brass omitted. The effect is ironically
stunning, draining the colour from what could very nearly have been an
overblown Sleepy Hollow score, but leaving the composer free to
concentrate on his string writing in a way not heard since Dolores
Claiborne (or, in another world, perhaps Big Fish). His thematic
material is typically muscular, capable of standing up to any number of
repetitions in various guises, whether blared in a hellish horn chorale
over rusty blooded low string ostinatos, in empassioned cello solo, or
warm string harmonies. The chromatically flecked main theme, at first
disturbingly reminiscent from Wojciech Kilar's 1992 score to Coppola's
Dracula (and where else is there a more fitting role model, one
would ask the critics) is, on screen, instantly associated not with a
character (e.g. Dracula/wolf) but with the relentless forboding of the
supernatural curse, embodied by the warnings of gypsies (the Transylvania
connection?); the hidden violence in familial relationships, erupting
into horrific bloody violence in the cold light of a full moon. By limiting
his orchestration, Elfman's score feels old and doomed, muffling any sense
of the supernatural as anything other than a carnal reality, employing
chorus sparingly and not to dazzle. There is still much room both for
rich bombast and soothing melancholy, but the overall effect is one of
a unity of tone which helps bind the film together even if its effect
is not often felt consciously.
One might expect that on disc this limitation over the
course of an hour might prove deadening but in truth there is much to
sink one's teeth into once preoccupation with overall tone and thematic
allusions are passed, since Elfman has never been known to stint on detail
in his work. With scores of broader character this can be exhausting,
but in The Wolfman it is the detail which, submerged and superfluous
on film, now proves absorbing and the key to an hour's entertainment.
Capitalising on this is the number of tracks topping 5 minutes, pushing
a momentum that overcomes the ticking clock. The reviewer is somewhat
perplexed, however, at the arrangement of tracks: the two suites might
come in handy as calling cards for the attention defecient and fill in
gaps perhaps in the film's tortuous editing journey, but they give too
much away too early. To listen to the CD from the Prologue is revelatory
- entering to Elfman's world at this point is like peering through the
fog, looking for musical clues. One is rewarded with a mystery of a score
and hackle-raising highlights such as 'Gypsy Massacre' and 'Country Carnage'.
The same embarrassment tails the score: 'The Finale' might not quite feel
grand or effective enough as a closer, but 'Wolf Wild #2' is way too brief,
and dies away just as you feel your pulse quickening. Now add 'Wolf Suite
pt 1' instead, its themes laid out in full, splendid and powerful - a
show-stopper ending that would leave any listener with a lasting impression.
Verdict: An efficient and fitting score which may not have
needed Elfman's hand, but which benefits immeasurably from it on disc.
Score rating: * *
CD release rating: * * *
|