The Werewolf of Washington (dir. Milton Moses Ginsberg, 1973)
It is Nixon himself who represents that dark, venal and incurably violent side of the American character that almost every country in the world has learned to fear and despise. Our Barbie-doll president, with his Barbie-doll wife and his boxful of Barbie-doll children is also America’s answer to the monstrous Mr. Hyde. He speaks for the Werewolf in us; the bully, the predatory shyster who turns into something unspeakable, full of claws and bleeding string-warts on nights when the moon comes too close… — Hunter S. Thompson, October 1973
The Werewolf of Washington also premiered in October 1973. Coincidence? Absolutely. Werewolves are just what Thompson says: repressed aggression and the potential for violence, the monster within us. Anyone could have drawn comparisons between that and the Nixon administration, be they a talented writer that would eventually burn out on coke, booze, and their own reputation or a never-was filmmaker.
Dean Stockwell (Paris, Texas; Blue Velvet; The Langoliers) stars as the mild-mannered press secretary for a nebulously Republican administration, who while in Budapest, is bit by a werewolf. He returns to Washington and begins a moonlight killing spree, forming a pentagram pattern of murder like he’s a serial killer in an Alan Moore graphic novel. Along the way, the president tries to surmount such difficulties as a withdrawal of US troops from Southeast Asia, difficulties with his vice president and the Supreme Court, and domestic protests.
You could call it satirical, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong. You could call it comedy, but that would require humor to actually happen.
Even though the werewolf’s victims largely comprise of the president’s enemies–women, people of color, Democrats–it’s never properly given the weight required. Mostly it comes across as an inconvenience for Stockwell. Despite the challenges faced by his administration, the president in the film barely has anything in common with Nixon. He’s about a thousand times more likable for one. If he resembles anyone, it’s Lyndon Johnson, but even that’s not an exact comparison, because he’s neither charismatic nor competent and you never once see him pull out Jumbo as was Johnson’s wont. There’s a character with dwarfism named Dr. Kiss, but the joke there is more “Haha, he’s got a congenital disorder that makes his limbs shorter” than “This man is a war criminal responsible for the deaths of millions due to illegal bombing campaigns.” Dean Stockwell is a fine actor, but you have to have something to work with, too. The closest thing the film has to a recurring joke is that scenes keep taking place in bathrooms.
I hate myself for saying it, but there’s no other way: this werewolf satire has no bite.
GENE SHALIT OUT.
October 3, 2018
oliveresque 