Mark Reviews Movies: WEREWOLVES WITHIN

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Review by Mark Dujsik | June 24, 2021

There's murder or—more likely, given the title—supernatural mauling afoot in Werewolves Within. The story loosely comes from a video game of the same title, although it mostly comes from the tradition of the whodunit, performed in a tone that approaches, but never quite reaches, parody. Basically, there's a group of mysterious and suspicious characters, eventually isolated in an old mansion, who are all played in broad terms by a cast of somewhat-familiar comedic/character actors.

The casting here is, perhaps, the movie's best trait. We're not inundated with or distracted by overly famous people, although one could argue, either from their previous work or the dedication they show here, that a good number of these actors should be more famous than they currently are. For example, Sam Richardson is one of the funniest character actors working today. Here, he gets to play the lead, as a semi-bumbling and generally awkward but gosh-darn sincere forest ranger. The ranger is new to this small town and finds himself ill-prepared for all the gossip, interpersonal conflicts, and, eventually, gruesome maimings and killings that unfold.

Director Josh Ruben oversees this familiar material, given a paranormal and comic twist, with an aim at levity. It's entertaining at first, as we're gradually introduced to the cast and the various quirks of the characters they play. Indeed, the actual mysteries—whether there's an old-fashioned murderer or a werewolf in this small town and whom that killer/beast may be—are almost irrelevant for a long time.

The screenplay, written by Mishna Wolff (an appropriate name for such material, if there ever was one), provides so much exposition and so many opportunities for these actors to have fun that we do start to wonder if the plot does or ever will matter. It does, obviously, and by that point, the movie's earlier charms have worn a bit too thin from repetition.

Our story, featuring a prologue of someone meeting a violent end from a growling something in the woods, begins with forest ranger Finn (Richardson) arriving at his new post: the out-of-the-way Beavertown. Staying at the local hotel, converted from a two-story mansion, the newcomer meets Cecily (Milana Vayntrub, who'll be familiar to anyone who has seen ads for a certain cellphone provider over the last few years—but who also displays plenty of off-the-cuff, sardonic charm here), the town's recently arrived postal worker (There can be only one). She takes Finn on a tour of the tiny town.

The highlights are primarily the distinct personalities of the townsfolk. The quiet Jeanine (Catherine Curtin) runs the hotel and is mostly known for making sandwiches. Trisha (Michaela Watkins) wants in on everybody's business (Her heavy earmuffs, amusingly, prevent her from hearing it the first time), while hoping to open her own crafts shop, and mindlessly parrots the conservative view of her creepily handsy, philandering husband Pete (Michael Chernus).

Gwen (Sarah Burns) and Marcus (George Basil) make up a loud, trashy couple who run the local gas station. Devon (Cheyenne Jackson) and Joaquim (Harvey Guillén) are married, from the city, and not-so-secretly wealthy (although neither will openly admit it). On the outskirts of town is Emerson Flint (Glenn Fleshler), a loner and survivalist who doesn't take kindly to visitors and doesn't recognize Finn's job, employer, or the government in general.

A couple of outsiders figure into the town's drama. Sam Parker (Wayne Duvall) represents a big oil company, looking to build a pipeline underground and promising a big payout to the population if everyone agrees. Dr. Ellis (Rebecca Henderson) is a leading ecological scientist, investigating the possible effects of the pipeline and hiding away in her room, until the townsfolk need her expertise on some mysterious canine hair found on a mutilated corpse under the hotel's front porch. She has a habit of popping into frame unseen or from behind unlikely places.

It's not a stretch to say that the actors are intended to carry this affair. The plot dances around the central mystery for so long—giving us a couple more attacks and deaths, establishing plenty of suspects and red herrings, having a fruitless roundtable session of accusations (This, apparently, is the setup of the video game), providing a big standoff in the street—that each and every scene, including the final fight with the baddie behind it all, feels like an anticlimax.

That seems intentional on Wolff and Ruben's part, though, because each and every scene is also played for laughs. Richardson's effortless comic chops and gee-whiz disposition go a long way, as does the dynamic between the actor and Vayntrub's laid-back sarcasm. Some of the supporting characters—the stern environmentalist and the nosy crafts-maker—are funnier than others, but at its best, there's a madcap, screwball rat-a-tat to the bickering and bantering of the screenplay. In general, the actors get it right, knowing that the material's success or failure depends on big personalities behaving in big ways.

A taste of this approach is fun, and a sampling of it is more than enough. Werewolves Within, though, attempts to make an entire meal out of the various charms and quirks of and between these caricatures and the actors playing them. The cast is asked to do a lot, and while they're definitely game, the filmmakers simply don't give them enough material for the task at hand.

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