[7]
Oliver Reed gives a compelling performance as a man cursed with becoming a werewolf when the moon is full. After being conceived from rape and losing his mother in childbirth, Reed’s character is taken in by a kind couple (Clifford Evans and Hira Talfrey) who raise him to adulthood with the guidance of the local vicar (John Gabriel). Together, they pray that love can keep the boy’s bestial urges at bay. As an adult, he finds employment with a winery and falls in love with the owner’s daughter (Catherine Feller). But when the moon continues to control him, the body count rises, and this horror/drama from Hammer Films takes a tragic turn.
The Curse of the Werewolf is unusual in its structure, spending fully half it’s runtime on backstory before Reed even enters the picture. It’s such engaging backstory, however, that it only enriches the film, rather than bog it down. It also gives the film an epic feel as we shift focus from the imprisoned beggar (Richard Wordsworth) who becomes Reed’s father after being driven mad by years in isolation, to the mute woman he forces himself upon (Yvonne Romain), to Reed’s character as a young boy (Justin Walters).
Even though he’s only in half the movie, Reed is indelible, giving perhaps one of the finest performances in any Hammer movie. Some Hammer films fall into a ‘paint by number’ rinse and repeat cycle, but Reed elevates this one above the studio’s gothic rigmarole. He commits to the character’s anguish and shame, enabling us to identify with him as much as we’re meant to pity Frankenstein’s monster.
The film is a prime example of how well Hammer can produce period genre fare on a remarkably low budget. The werewolf makeup may not be the most convincing, but The Curse of the Werewolf makes up for it with a limited number of great sets, convincing wardrobe, and moody photography.
With Anthony Dawson as the sadistic Marques who sets this tale in motion. Directed by Hammer regular Terence Fisher.