Wolf Man (2025) is another reimagining of a classic werewolf tale with a recursive twist. The film is centered around a family dealing with unresolved trauma as they return to the father’s childhood farmhouse in hopes of reconnecting—only to be greeted by the very curse that broke their family in the first place.Admittedly, I went into the film fully expecting to fall in love; this is honestly because I can appreciate a wicked creature feature. I was already aware that it was Blumhouse Productions before going into the film, but I also learned—after watching the introductory credits—that it was directed and co-written by Leigh Whannell, whom I recognized from his directorial debut, Insidious 3 (2015), and later The Invisible Man (2020). Christopher Abbott leads as Blake Lovell, a husband and father bringing his family—Charlotte, played by Julia Garner, and their daughter Ginger, played by Matilda Firth—back to his childhood farmhouse in an effort to rebuild strained connections. Sam Jaeger takes on the role of Grady Lovell, Blake’s missing father, whose hidden past gradually unravels at the heart of the story’s horror. Overall, I have to say that the casting choices were great, and their talents were certainly pivotal in capturing the emotional experience of Wolf Man (2025). Although subtle, Jaeger’s and Abbott’s portrayals of post-traumatic behaviors in both timelines of the movie were brilliant to me and greatly contributed to the chill.
The film is a reboot of Universal’s Classic Monster series The Wolf Man franchise created by Curt Siodmak in 1941. This franchise generated cultural significance early in the film industry, serving as the blueprint for contemporary reboots, such as Wolf Man (2025). The original franchise by Siodmak set precedent in codifying how werewolves are portrayed in film, even inspiring the cult classics An American Werewolf in London (1981), The Howling (1981), and many more. One of the deeper themes carried through creature features inspired by Siodmak is the loss of humanity, particularly how transformation becomes a metaphor for reckoning with a cursed existence—and this film did not stray.
Whannell did a fantastic job of capturing a creepy yet authentic atmosphere of encountering a werewolf. He intentionally built an emotionally intense climate so as not to completely rely on gore to tell a classic scary story with success. The characters were well developed early in the movie, sowing seeds in the plot that invite the audience to ponder how the characters would resolve their strained relationships by the end of the film. For example, it was clear that the daughter, Ginger, was not connected to her mother, Charlotte, due to her having to dedicate more of herself to her job. This was a result of Blake not having work stability, which allowed him and Ginger to grow much more close. It was also intriguing to me that the father’s dialog, when speaking to his daughter, was as if he was a single parent and Charlotte was already out of the picture.
The story clearly showed how the emotional toll of Blake living between jobs and dealing with his father’s absence was straining his relationship with his family. I liked how this pressure was portrayed in the realistic outcome of a dysfunctional family. The co-writers for the film, Whannell and his wife, Corbett Tuck, were clearly informed on how trauma affects families and used this insight to theatrically model how it can grow into chaos. In the end, gore was not completely spared in this reimagining, and I have to say it was rather tastefully used.
However, I’m afraid to say that there were some approaches Whannell took with this film that left me howling for the wrong reasons. The lore was pent-up and savory, but the story laid it to waste, focusing too heavily on family drama at the expense of the mythos. So, while the characters were initially well developed, how their conflict was resolved at the end was not. Notably, the aforementioned dialog Blake had with Ginger felt especially superfluous.
In actuality, I expected the emphasis on developing the characters so strongly would be used more cinematically by the end. You’d initially think the point of the movie, outside of the werewolf theme, was for the family to resolve their trauma and heal; however, the ending shattered that and essentially just recycled the trauma. So, while there is a plot twist at the end that is obviously foreshadowed, you might be surprised by how insignificant it actually was for any hope of resolve. Seriously, the showdown between the two werewolves could’ve, and should’ve, been the highlight of the film.
I was hoping the emotional focus would salvage the film, but the resolution with the family felt odd, rushed, and leaned too heavily on a lack of awareness compared to what could have been expected from what was introduced at the beginning. The aforementioned dysfunctional family dynamic paved the way for both a reconciliation for Charlotte, who was clearly estranged from both Blake and Ginger, as well as offering closure on Blake’s loss. In my opinion, it could have ended much better if the outcomes of Blake and Charlotte were reversed.
Additionally, I always look forward to seeing how directors choose to showcase lycanthropic transitions in their films, respectively, almost as a signature. However, this was rather anticlimactic and questionably even lupine at all — more akin to a condition that is slowly portrayed as some disease with a grotesque presentation of pathophysiology. With all due respect, I believe the creature design from the original in 1941 was much better.
Special effects aside, a major issue for me in this portrayal was actually the pathogenesis. I wasn’t even sure when Blake, the father, had initially been infected. When his transition began, I found myself thinking hard about when it could have happened, because it was unconventional, to say the least. Even though I was totally engrossed in the film, this lack of clarity diminished the experience for me.
Make no mistake, the movie can be enjoyed; I believe Whannell accomplished what he set out to do. His directorial approach seems intended to coalesce the fictional horror of living with werewolves with relatable social contexts for a broader audience. That said, it is a shame there wasn’t more homage paid to Universal’s original The Wolf Man (1941), and it seems likely he didn’t hold much appreciation for the very inspiration that made his storytelling possible.
So while I didn’t fall in love like I originally thought I would, I do believe this film is meant to be enjoyed for what it is: a simple reimagining meant to be watched rather than to provoke much afterthought or discussion. Furthermore, I do not believe this is meant for an avid horror fan, and the rewatchability of it is very poor. For the most part, this is the type of movie you’d want to watch with someone special after a lovely date-night out or as part of a werewolf movie marathon. It is an otherwise forgettable film that had an amazing exposition with a steep decline after the climax. However, you might find you’ll be able to appreciate this film the most if you prefer dramatic storytelling with a flair of horror in the form of a classic creature feature.
