The Wolfman

Passable re-do/recreation of a vintage Universal horror needlessly pads its fairly straightforward story with too much unnecessary clutter – I complained that the 40s version was overstuffed by including two romantic rivals for Chaney, but this delves into the Talbot family history in extensive ways that are dull at best, and ugly and uninvolving at worst; while likely included to give Hopkins a little more to do (and he admittedly seems to be having a ball), they dilute the simple chill of the werewolf curse as uttered unforgettably by Ouspenskaya (Chaplin does her best to compete with the memory). There also comes a point when the Wolf Man is leaping tall buildings in a CGI bound that the poignant pathos is all but lost, especially as Del Toro seems ill at ease in the role. There are compensations which at least keep it watchable: Hopkins is as often the highlight, Weaving brings some charisma to the role that Hopkins himself would have played a generation ago, and the film’s production design is evocative and handsome, with a typically insinuating score from Elfman adding to the moodiness.