The best thing about 1935's "Werewolf of London" is not the performances of Henry Hull and Warner Oland, or the werewolf makeup created by the legendary Jack Pierce for Hull's transformation from man to beast. The true star of this Universal horror film is Valerie Hobson who played Elizabeth in the same year's "Bride of Frankenstein." According to Gregory William Mank, author of "It's Alive," a book about the Frankenstein series, the English born Hobson was only 17 that year, a minor, and therefore too young to play the wife of either Colin Clive or Henry Hull. You'd never know it though. She has a poise and maturity that belies her youth. She's also stunningly beautiful and deserving of greater fame and stardom than she achieved. She was hampered, no doubt, by her association with Universal, a studio whose most memorable films in the 1930s and 1940s were all in the horror genre. The only requirement for an actress when chased by Dracula, the Frankenstein monster, or a werewolf was to shriek at the top of her lungs while still looking gorgeous. Hobson excelled at meeting those requirements, but she was a good actress, deserving of better, more challenging roles.
Hobson is very convincing at conveying terror when confronted with Hull's wolf man, but since Hull isn't that terrifying to behold, her reaction is the only thing that makes the horror scenes effective. Other than the fangs, Hull's sideburns and pompadour bring to mind a beatnik from the pre-rock n' roll 1950s. I can picture Hull be-bopping at a corner table in a café where goateed poets recite wretched verse, scarves tied around their necks, smoking cigarettes and sipping lattes. The film is also short on atmosphere, crying out for fog or something to create an aura of menace. It's little wonder that Universal's first excursion into lycanthropy was deemed a failure. It would take Lon Chaney, Jr. and 1941's "The Wolf Man" to make a success of this theme.
But I will continue to rank "Werewolf of London" alongside the more superior films from Universal's Golden Age of Horror because it provides a rare opportunity to appreciate the beauty and talent of Valerie Hobson.
Brian W. Fairbanks
Hobson is very convincing at conveying terror when confronted with Hull's wolf man, but since Hull isn't that terrifying to behold, her reaction is the only thing that makes the horror scenes effective. Other than the fangs, Hull's sideburns and pompadour bring to mind a beatnik from the pre-rock n' roll 1950s. I can picture Hull be-bopping at a corner table in a café where goateed poets recite wretched verse, scarves tied around their necks, smoking cigarettes and sipping lattes. The film is also short on atmosphere, crying out for fog or something to create an aura of menace. It's little wonder that Universal's first excursion into lycanthropy was deemed a failure. It would take Lon Chaney, Jr. and 1941's "The Wolf Man" to make a success of this theme.
But I will continue to rank "Werewolf of London" alongside the more superior films from Universal's Golden Age of Horror because it provides a rare opportunity to appreciate the beauty and talent of Valerie Hobson.
Brian W. Fairbanks