Werewolves are long overdue for a horror resurgence. The movie monster hasn’t gotten nearly as much of the spotlight as vampires, zombies, or witches. Werewolves are a tricky creature to nail on celluloid, between the transformation, body horror, and their victims’ utter evisceration. The Wolf of Snow Hollow brings us one small step toward a werewolf renaissance. Instead of the creature feature you’d expect, though, this darkly comedic werewolf whodunit opts for a mystery that puts its human flaws front and center.
Writer/Director Jim Cummings stars as Officer John Marshall, a recovering alcoholic struggling to raise a teenage daughter while contending with an angry ex-wife and caring for his ailing father. When a series of brutal murders that coincide with the full moon strikes his snowy little town, Officer Marshall’s tenuous control over his life threatens to buckle under the pressure to catch the killer. All while reminding himself that werewolves don’t exist.
While the deaths get bloody, and victims don’t go gently into the good night, they take a backseat to Officer Marshall and the Snow Hollow police department’s quest to find the killer, which means that Wolf exists at the intersection of messy character study and whodunit. The former taking up most of the focus. Scenes of werewolf carnage are intercut with Marshall’s patience snapping. It’s clunky, but the message is clear; this is Marshall’s story. Officer Marshall makes for one flawed lead; his anger management issues often result in him lashing out at anyone in his vicinity and even physically assaulting fellow officers. The more the locals question police competence, the worse Marshall’s downward spiral gets. Bridges are burned, and the body count rises. It’s the humor that keeps from reducing Marshall to a loathsome protagonist.
The only two in Marshall’s life that avoid his wrath are his dad, Sheriff Hadley (Robert Forster), and the timid yet whip-smart Officer Julia Robson (Riki Lindhome). It’s bittersweet seeing Forster in his last film appearance, mainly because his character’s health is rapidly fading. As such, his on-screen appearance is minimal, though his lighthearted warmth makes for a welcome counterbalance to Marshall’s hotheadedness. Lindhome’s character may be subdued, but her fantastic, understated performance works well here. She’s the actual, unheralded MVP.
Snow Hollow is a town without much identity, but it’s hard to count that as a flaw when the snowy setting is so gorgeous. The scenic views, in conjunction with Natalie Kingston‘s cinematography, makes Snow Hollow a film that looks far richer than its indie budget. That wintry white backdrop makes the murders and bloodletting pop.
The idea of a werewolf murder mystery is an ingenious one; the killer can hide in plain sight when the moon isn’t full. Yet Cummings is more interested in how that mystery topples an unstable character’s house of cards. Marshall is a complete wreck of a character, and often abusive. But Cummings’ line delivery and a firm grasp of comedy add a much-needed levity that keeps the tone from getting too bleak or grating. All of which to say that expectations are likely key here. This isn’t a creature feature, nor a conventional werewolf movie. It’s a comedic thriller that isn’t afraid to get its hands dirty in violence, bloodshed, and deeply flawed character work. The horror is minimal. Enjoyment will likely hinge on how receptive you are to Cummings’ idiosyncratic, character-driven whodunit.
The Wolf of Snow Hollow releases in theaters and on demand on October 9, 2020.
