Wolf Man (2025): A Modern Twist on Lycanthropy and Generational Trauma

I’ve been ravenously excited for Wolf Man ever since the film was announced. I’m a huge fan of the classic Universal monsters, and the original The Wolf Man is one of my favorites. On top of that, this new remake was helmed by the guy who made the tragically underseen sci-fi thriller Upgrade and the nearly perfect remake of The Invisible Man, so I had all the faith in the world that he would knock it out of the park once again. I bought a ticket for opening night as soon as I got the chance, and now that I’ve finally seen the movie, I’m happy to report that it does not disappoint.

Wolf Man was directed and co-written by Leigh Whannell, and it stars Christopher Abbott, Julia Garner, and Matilda Firth. In the film, Blake leads a seemingly normal life with his wife Charlotte and his daughter Ginger, but that all changes when he receives some sad but expected news about his father. The guy apparently went missing years ago, and after what we can only assume were numerous fruitless searches, he’s finally been declared dead.

In the wake of this pronouncement, Blake inherits his childhood home, and when he goes there to pack the place up, he decides to take his family with him. Before they reach the house, they’re attacked by a mysterious creature that looks humanoid but acts like an animal, and it appears intent on making this poor family its next meal. Luckily, Blake and his crew make it to safety before the monster can seriously hurt them, but they don’t escape entirely unscathed. Blake has a scratch on his arm, and if you know anything about werewolves, you can guess what happens next.

On the surface, that might sound like a really generic werewolf story, but Wolf Man takes a somewhat novel approach to its time-honored monster. Once the creature attacks, the rest of this movie takes place over the course of a single night, and it juxtaposes two different kinds of horror. For starters, even though the characters find shelter, the werewolf that attacked them still wants its dinner. It stalks them periodically throughout the film, so we get plenty of traditional lycanthrope action.

But Blake throws a bit of a wrench into that conventional formula. As the night wears on, he slowly transforms into a werewolf himself, so his half of the terror is very reminiscent of the 2000 cult classic Ginger Snaps (hence the girl’s name) and David Cronenberg’s magnum opus The Fly. Sure, he turns into a full-blown monster eventually, but for most of the movie’s runtime, his side of the tale is more body horror than monster horror.

And if you ask me, both elements work pretty well. Let’s start with the traditional stuff. If you saw Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man, it should come as no surprise that the guy once again shows himself to be a master of tension and suspense. Every time the threat of a werewolf attack rears its ugly head, you’ll instantly find yourself involuntarily moving towards the edge of your seat, and whenever that threat materializes, Wolf Man gets even better. The lycanthrope action here is top-notch, so if you enjoy this brand of terror, you’ll definitely get your money’s worth.

Along similar lines, the horror of Blake’s transformation is pretty fun too. It’s not nearly as gut-wrenching as, say, last year’s body horror sensation The Substance, but it has its moments. It’s brought to life with genuinely convincing practical effects, and there’s one scene in particular that felt a bit like the famous transformation in An American Werewolf in London.

But hands down, the most interesting thing about Blake’s metamorphosis is the way Leigh Whannel conveys the changes going on inside the guy’s head. There are multiple times when we see what he sees and hear what he hears, and that peek inside the monster’s brain is super cool. It’s a unique touch we don’t normally get in this genre, and it further cements Whannell as one of the most exciting and innovative horror filmmakers around.

All that being said, Wolf Man doesn’t rely solely on the strength of its horror. Both the story and the characters have some real substance to them, so let’s turn now to the weightier parts of this movie. On the character side, all three lead stars do excellent work. To be fair, there are times when their performances feel a bit generic, but when these actors have to display heartfelt emotion, they absolutely shine. To take just one example, there’s a scene early on where Charlotte explains to Blake that she struggles to connect with their daughter, and actress Julia Garner makes her character’s pain nearly palpable. Your heart will break for this poor woman, and Garner’s costars, Christopher Abbott and Matilda Firth, do equally great work.


They lay an emotional foundation that grounds the story from start to finish, and that’s important because Wolf Man is way more than just a mindless exercise in terror. Like most werewolf films, it’s also an allegory for the dark side of human nature, but once again, the movie takes a unique approach to this tried-and-true genre staple.


The film begins by giving us a taste of Blake’s childhood, and we learn that he lived in constant fear of his father. The man was a rough parent with a short fuse, so even though he clearly cared for his son, his anger far overshadowed his love. After that, when we finally meet Blake as an adult, the movie immediately crafts an obvious parallel between him and his dad. He’s on an outing with his daughter, and when she does something unsafe, his anger rears its ugly head as well. But unlike his father, Blake controls his rage, and he says he doesn’t want to be that kind of parent.


The comparison is just about impossible to miss, but in case you’re not convinced, Wolf Man hammers the point home in a third-act scene I can’t describe without getting into spoiler territory. I wish I could say more about it, but trust me, you’ll know it when you see it. It makes Blake’s devolution into lycanthropy a clear metaphor for generational trauma and the various ways we can unwittingly perpetuate cycles of abuse with our own children, and even though I’m not a parent myself, I still found it pretty touching.


In particular, actress Matilda Firth does an amazing job of conveying Ginger’s love for her father even as he’s turning into a mindless killing machine, and the juxtaposition of her undying love and Blake’s clear trajectory towards abuse is utterly heartbreaking. That dynamic is the heart and soul of Wolf Man, and it elevates the film far above your typical mindless monster movie.


In case you couldn’t tell, I had a really good time with this film. Granted, it has a few lulls here and there, so it’s not quite as good as The Invisible Man or Upgrade. It’s not going to end up on my top-ten list come December, but I couldn’t have asked for a better movie to kick off the new year. If this is what January horror looks like in 2025, I can’t wait to see what the coming months have in store for us.