The Independent; London; Aug 25, 1996; Ivan Waterman;
The Observer; London; Sep 29, 1996; Tom Hibbert;
The Independent; London; Oct 1, 1996; Thomas Sutcliffe;
The Guardian Manchester; Oct 1, 1996; Nancy Banks-Smith;
The Times; London; Oct 8, 1996; Lynne Truss;
The Independent; London; Dec 3, 1996; Thomas Sutcliffe;
Forum Reviews; (DVD) May, 2003;
The Independent; London; Aug 25, 1996; Ivan Waterman;
At last there's a TV serial that feminists can really get their teeth into. Ivan Waterman reports Those traditional male roles just keep on falling to women: stand by, viewers, for the first female werewolf story. No: stand by for the first feminist werewolf story. Tune in to ITV next month for the three-part horror drama Wilderness and you will see two very different worlds collide in a manner that even the producer admits is pretty unlikely. Britain's most celebrated TV scriptwriter, Andrew Davies, author of the screenplays for House of Cards and Pride and Prejudice, will be trying to bring believability to the tale of Alice White, a sensuous yet mysterious - to quote ITV - librarian. Alice was sexually assaulted as a teenager and as an adult is wreaking her revenge on men by using them for sex and then discarding them. But there's a complication. Once a month, when other women have their periods, Alice turns into a wolf. She's been doing it since she was 13; she doesn't want to; indeed, her sense of social responsibility makes her shut herself up at night in a flat in Shepherd's Bush until her monthly affliction passes; but turn into a wolf she does. Unfortunately for innocent passers-by, but fortunately for lovers of blood and gore horror movies, she doesn't always make it to the flat in time.
The story is by the American novelist Dennis Danvers and was originally set in the USA and Canada, but Andrew Davies has reconstructed it for a British audience in London and Scotland. It stars Amanda Ooms, who is elfin-faced, 26 and of Swedish-Dutch parentage, and a number of faces more familiar to British audiences, including the seasoned Michael Kitchen, who played the Prince of Wales figure in Andrew Davies' House of Cards sequel, To Play The King. He is Alice's besotted psychotherapist. Then there is Ayla, who plays the wolf - who is a real wolf. It's not just a horror film though, stresses the producer, Tim Vaughan, a former script editor of Emmerdale Farm. After confiding that there is lots of sex and lots of nudity in the serial, he insists that there are "important" aspects of the three-hour film which have to be taken seriously. "If you take the usual Hammer Films stuff, the werewolf always goes on the rampage, testosterone-driven on a full moon, dicing as many people as possible in a period of two days before returning to a normal life.
"What we have here is a girl who turned into a wolf for the first time at the age of 13, which is a clear allegorical significance in terms of the end of puberty and the beginnings of womanhood. The PMT thing cannot be ignored in the way that it holds women back. "This is a feminine fairy story, not a werewolf story or pornography. This is menstrual. I'm as red-blooded as the next man, but do we really know how women operate? They are a puzzle, an enigma. That is the kind of territory we are exploring."
Ms Ooms has little doubt that she is striking a blow for women. Alice White, she says, takes strangers to hotels purely to satisfy her sexual needs. Any other form of involvement is a huge risk. "Surely this is a great male fantasy. Don't all men want to meet a strange, beautiful woman and have sex with her and then see her leave with no commitment? Aren't most men in this situation married in any case?
"This is a symbolic fairy tale about a woman who wants to take control of her life. All women feel like this. . . but once a month they are restricted. They have no choice. She wants the ultimate freedom."
Feminism apart, Wilderness is treading a well-worn path. Wolfman films date back to 1913, when the Canadian director Henry McRae hired Watuma, a white-hating, mixed-race Navajo to become a live wolf for his silent adventure, The Werewolf. Many similar movies have followed: they have almost all featured a star victim who, once bitten, is transformed by the sight of the moon into a hairy beast with a fearsome set of teeth. He kills at random and a silver bullet was prescribed as the best means of disposing of the half-human monster. Hollywood stars, from Lon Chaney Jr to Jack Nicholson, have wreaked havoc under a full moon, while closer to home, Michael Gambon and even the late Harry H Corbett have followed in their pawsteps. In Wilderness, special effects have been kept to a minimum, to avoid "morphing" as the on-screen transformation from one face to another is now commonly known, overshadowing the issues as hand. "We don't want to agonise over the transformation," explained Mr Vaughan. "All that hair and claws and howling bit has rather been done to death. "This woman is looking for freedom. She feels trapped. She wants to get back to her roots. There is a parallel in all of this to PMT. Do I believe in werewolves? I am not completely barking. I do have a close eye on reality, you know."
The Observer; London; Sep 29, 1996; Tom Hibbert;
And yawn again if you make the silly mistake of trying out the new thing from the pen of Andrew Davies (who has done rather too much telly writing of late, if you ask me. . . House of Cards, To Play the King, Pride and Prejudice and Game On, the least funny sitcom of all time if you don't count Robin's Nest). His latest offering is a three-part series based upon Dennis Danvers's novel Wilderness (ITV, 9pm). What happens here is that a pretty librarian, Amanda Ooms, is encountering some ticklish lycanthropic problems, ie she keeps turning into a wolf. And not your ordinary, run of the mill Lon Chaney Jr-type werewolf with mad whiskers, but a wolf that actually looks like a wolf. But maybe she's imagining it all because her psychiatrist (Michael Kitchen) certainly thinks she is, but she doesn't trust him because she still feels all wolfy even after all that counselling. Until she meets Owen Teale (who used to be the milkman in that CoffeeMate ad whose truck falls over breaking all the bottles so he has to go to an `alluring' female customer's abode for his morning cuppa) and, anyway, Owen knows a lot about science and things like that (even his head looks like a test tube) so Amanda might be saved because she's in love with him. . . Or she might turn into a wolf again. Or. . . Zzzzzzz. . . Er, on the whole, the CoffeeMate commercial was better.
The Independent; London; Oct 1, 1996; Thomas Sutcliffe;
"I turn into a wolf, once a month, when it's full moon," says Alice to her psychotherapist, after he has prodded her to be a bit more candid about her problems. Naturally, he takes this to be a metaphor, dense with Freudian potential; in his mind he can already read the glowing reviews for his book about the case. But it isn't - it's literally true, a fact that immediately gives Wilderness (ITV) considerable problems of equilibrium. If Alice's wolf is a metaphor, then everything we see is a potential tragedy - one of repressed sexuality and murderous insanity. If, on the other hand, the wolf is real, then the story begins to tug, like a dog spotting a lamppost, towards a comedy of inconvenience. At times the writers, Andrew Davies and Bernadette Davis, clearly intend to let the leash out, as when we see the petite Alice buying 15 pounds of rump steak for her dinner. At other points, you're less sure about what they have in mind: "I need to get to grips with this wolf thing," she says to her therapist, as if turning into a savage beast and dining on unwary pedestrians is little more than a mild eating disorder. Because the writers aren't intent on terror alone (because their werewolf isn't simply the monster outside), they are bound to acknowledge the awkward logistics of combining the lifestyle of an urban librarian with occasional wolfhood, and this can't but undermine the solemnity of the occasion. When Alice protests that "shitting on newspapers" is incompatible with a civilised life, you do wonder why she hasn't thought of constructing a giant litter tray for her monthly fur-and-fang sessions - after all, the wolf appears to be marginally house-trained already.
But as it isn't intent on mere terror, it is also far more interesting than it might have been, particularly in the way that it plays with ideas of predation and animal instincts. Alice has gone to her therapist because she prowls hotels picking up rich businessmen for one-night stands; we see her in a swimming pool surrounded by vulpine-looking characters who clearly think she is just a little defenceless lamb. The dialogue is aware, too, of the little patches of wilderness that remain in the language: "Good hunting," teases one of Alice's colleagues when she leaves early one night, supposedly on a date. That's a touch obvious perhaps, but when her new love interest, Dan, says "How do you fancy sloping off somewhere a bit quieter?" the line has a wry quiver of energy restored to it. We know that Alice is much better at sloping around than he can possibly imagine. It is also a nice joke to make penguins his academic specialism - as one of the least menacing animals alive, they suggest that Owen Teale's chunky-knit cosy manliness is intentional, not just an off-note in the casting. Even the fantastical elements are played with a nice eye for the embarrassments that might arise if such a thing were true. As the psychotherapist, Michael Kitchen delivers a wonderful picture of constrained arousal - half sex and half ambition. This delivers both comedy - as in the scene in which he tries to reconcile his incredulity with the professional etiquette of not repudiating the client - and something a bit breathier, as when he fastidiously refuses to give Alice a physical examination, forcing her to demonstrate her wolfishly heightened sense of smell by telling him exactly what he had for lunch and pointing out that he's becoming sexually excited.
Kitchen's character is doomed, I would guess, academic rationalisation being a capital offence in werewolf stories, but he helps considerably while he survives. I'm not sure, either, if the writers can go anywhere but down, having conclusively burned their boats as far as therapeutic cure is concerned, but this far their balancing act has been quite impressive - creating a drama which is knowingly funny enough not to be entirely risible.
The Guardian Manchester; Oct 1, 1996; Nancy Banks-Smith;
Wilderness (Carlton) is a first-class excuse for nudity. Once a month when the moon is full Alice (Amanda Ooms) discards the trappings of civilisation and morphs into a wolf. Her psychotherapist - as you might guess, she's got one of those - is Luther (Michael Kitchen), who tends to purse his lips and say "O . . . kay" much as one might say "Good dog" to something huge and slavering. It all began - oh, you guessed that too - when Alice reached puberty and woke up naked in the woods feeling strangely satisfied. There was a difficult episode when she tore out the throat of a farm hand who was raping her, but it seems to have been smoothed over. At night she prowls London picking up stray business men. "Another night of passion?" asks her fellow librarian wistfully, the one who wears spectacles. At the full moon, feeling her senses sharpen, she buys 16 pounds of rump steak and locks herself in the cellar. The acuity of her senses gives Luther quite a turn. "I can smell your lunch. You had a ham and tomato sandwich . . . and an apple. Black coffee . . . decaffeinated. You are in the early stages of sexual arousal." Nervously, he declines to test the beating of her heart by laying his head on her breast. Much like Sophia Loren and Peter Sellers. At this fraught point, Alice starts a love affair with Dan (Owen Teale), an expert on penguins. Please God, he doesn't turn out to be a penguin, a tasty mouthful. Wildnerness, good looking and well acted, is a fable about the natural animal which, in civilisation, we keep under lock and key. As Andrew Davies, one of the screenwriters, says it does make a change from cops, docs and period frocks.
The Times; London; Oct 8, 1996; Lynne Truss;
Meanwhile in the secondpart of Wilderness (ITV) wolf-lady Alice escorted her nice, broadminded Welsh boyfriend, Dan, into the real basement of her house, to watch her "change". She wanted to convince him she wasn't mad, you see; but perhaps had not fully considered (as the viewer had) that exposing him to a big she-wolf was potentially a double-edged advantage. But as luck would have it, the wolf didn't come. Phew. Amanda Ooms moaned and stretched and sweated a lot in the buff, but to no avail, lupine-wise. Her eyes didn't even yellow up. A lucky escape for the Welshman but real tragedy for Alice, for whom one feels more pity each week. Against all the odds, she is turning into a bona fide tragic figure, like the Frankenstein monster: self-destructing because pierced by human love, appallingly lonely, howling for help and tenderness that isn't there. Each time she blinks away the tears in her therapy sessions, it breaks your heart. "You saw my wolf," she implored her therapist, virtually licking his hand. "No I didn't," he lied, and couldn't have hurt her more if he'd smacked her on the muzzle. No aid comes from psychology, of course: therapist Michael Kitchen (Luther) is the small-minded villain of the piece; more interested in colour-coding his bath towels than wrestling with the universal beast within. In fact it is becoming clear that Luther is a textbook (and marginally comical) obsessive-compulsive: afraid to spill coffee, donning rubber gloves to scour a perfectly clean sink, and finally snipping stray leaves off the elaborate topiary. Just the sort of chap to understand about howling at the moon. But Alice is getting under Luther's skin, nevertheless. Last night he asked her in an offhand manner : "Have we seen anything of Mr Penguin?" - such abuse of arival is a sure sign of sexual jealousy. He also told Alice that her boyfriend was immature and "damaged", and then phoned a colleague and said "I think she's offering herself to me". I suspect in next week's final episode he will (like poor Alice) wrestle with his inner animal. Unfortunately, however, Luther's animal is likely to be a small vole, or a worm.
The Independent; London; Dec 3, 1996; Thomas Sutcliffe;
Wilderness (ITV), which last week was balanced precariously between fear and farce, is still on the wire, after a second episode which extended the comedy (Michael Kitchen's control-freak therapist fretfully trimming stray twigs off a perfect piece of topiary), while also supplying the unease that was missing from episode one. In real life, Owen Teale, the wolf- woman's new boyfriend, would have hit the ejector button as soon as her eyes turned yellow, but I guess plausibility is hardly the point when you're talking lycanthropy.
Forum Reviews; (DVD) May 3, 2003; Gerda2
Wilderness was originally a mini-series, but it has been cut into a movie for the US DVD market. It's about a young librarian, Alice White (Amanda Ooms), who turns into a wolf once every month when the moon is full. This has been happening since she started puberty. To avoid hurting anyone (there's been an incident) she locks herself in the basement when she feels the werewolf transformation coming on.
Because this is obviously affecting her life and future she decides to see a psychiatrist, Luther (Michael Kitchen). At first he doesn't believe that she literally turns into a wolf and sees it as a deep psychosis. He is very excited about the case and wants to write a book about it to end his psychiatrist midlife crisis! He turns more and more peculiar, trimming the topiary bushes in his garden with obsessive care.
Alice meanwhile has met a man, Dan, she is falling in love with, however the werewolf issue complicates their relationship very seriously. Luther suggests to use hypnosis as treatment. During the hypnosis session Alice briefly changes into her wolf-self but Luther denies that this is not just a mental problem and claims he didn't see the wolf. He gets more and more caught up in the case, to the point where his marriage suffers. His ethics suffer too when he advises Alice against the relationship with Dan and suggests that she should look for a patient man instead, implying himself! He decides that the only way to "cure" Alice is to get involved in her "madness" which means having sex with her.
Alice has decided that the only way to resolve her problem is to spend time with a wolfpack studied by a wolf expert (Gemma Jones) in Scotland. Alice doesn't show up to her next session with Luther. He goes to her house and tries to sedate her (mad Michael with syringe!) when she is not exactly susceptible to his claims that he can "help" her. She turns into the wolf and Luther escapes. Alice joins the wolfpack, even though Dan tries to convince her that he loves her enough to have a future with her.
Luther sees his career and marriage dissolve at which point he takes to trimming his dainty topiaries with a chainsaw! In his final scene we see him talking with another psychiatrist and trying to explain the case, but he is interrupted by the nurse making him take his medication!!
I really enjoyed the first half of the film, where Alice's situation was revealed piece by piece. There were some interesting scenes where she buys huge amounts of raw steak and tries to lead as normal a life as possible. The sessions with Luther are well done, and I felt her dilemma with the budding romance with Dan was quite touching. MK did a very nice job portraying the psychiatrist who got more and more tangled in the case and looses his professional neutrality.
The second half of the movie lost a bit of its believability (if there is such a thing in a story about a werewolf). MK's character started turning into this obsessed and irrational person and the performance was, as I said before, somewhat over the top. It could be that the heavy cuts made this change somewhat abrupt and therefore less believable. One of the qualities I so admire in his acting ability and style is his particular brand of subtlety and understatement. I missed that in the second half. On the other hand, this character was unlike any I have seen him portray before, so maybe I'm just a bit set in my ways...
In the scene where he hypnotizes Alice for the first time, his voice is all soothing and velvety. I was ready to be hypnotized myself! When Alice gives him the brief glimpse of becoming the wolf, he jumps off the bench where he had been sitting next to her. Priceless. The way he justifies his more and more unprofessional involvement with a patient is also quite entertaining.
In the production notes it said that the film was intended as a satirical look at the differences in men and women and how they relate to each other. I would say that was done effectively, particularly in the second half. However, I think this film would have turned into a more effective drama if the mood and atmosphere of the first half had been sustained throughout.
It is not really a werewolf movie. I am not a fan of the horror genre, but thought the way the story was told was very intriguing. I was impressed with how Amanda Ooms expressed the wolf/animal side to her. She also seemed completely uninhibited appearing stark naked in many scenes due to the wolf transformation. These scenes didn't seem gratuitous to me, but there was one sex scene in the beginning that did seem unnecessarily graphic.
I saw in the production notes that this was originally a 150 minute mini-series on British TV. The DVD however was cut down to 99 minutes which may explain some odd plot developments. Andrew Davies, who wrote the screenplay for one of my all-time favorite British TV shows, "Pride and Prejudice", co-wrote this mini-series.
All in all, not a bad film, but not a great one either.
* * *
Forum Reviews; (DVD) May 4, 2003; deZignr
I have to admit that I rented it with some hesitation, not really excited about the prospect of watching a "werewolf" movie. But it had Michael Kitchen in it, so. . . you know how that goes! I found the first half more interesting than I thought I would, and I thought MK's role held a lot of possibility as he worked to help this woman. And then, his role just changed. It was like watching 2 completely different movies. Perhaps you're right in that the cuts to the movie version here in the U.S. left out important scenes that would've helped make that transformation more believable. But it wasn't just that his character changed -- I thought his acting changed too. I realize that his character was falling into a kind of madness himself, but I thought the way MK depicted that descent was more suitable for a comedy, not a dramatic film as this one was intended to be. This is one MK film that, seen once, was enough for me.