Let’s get this out of the way: Full Moon High is a comedy. At least, that’s what it claims in its police report. Written and directed by Larry Cohen—who, to be fair, gave us the delightfully weird It’s Alive—this 1981 lycanthropic farce feels less like a movie and more like what happens when you give a director a tax break, a vague outline, and a trunk full of expired film stock.
It’s a werewolf comedy that thinks “wolfman plus high school equals gold,” but all it delivers is a silver bullet to your attention span.
The Plot: An Underdeveloped Dog
The plot, if you can call it that, follows Tony Walker (played by Adam Arkin, who deserved better), a clean-cut 1950s teen who accompanies his CIA father (Ed McMahon—yes, that Ed McMahon) on a government mission to Romania. There, he gets bitten by a werewolf after about fifteen seconds of “scary atmosphere,” most of which looks like it was shot behind a Spirit Halloween store. He returns home, now cursed with immortality and monthly fur spasms, and tries to resume his life.
But instead of digging into the potential horror or even giving us Teen Wolf levels of entertainment, Full Moon High takes the low road—and stalls out in a ditch full of bad puns, cringe jokes, and characters that feel like outtakes from a rejected Mad Magazine parody.
Adam Arkin: The Least Hairy Werewolf in Cinema History
Let’s talk about Adam Arkin. The guy’s a capable actor. He can smirk. He can deliver lines. But when he transforms into a werewolf in Full Moon High, he looks less like a snarling creature of the night and more like a man who accidentally glued shag carpet to his face while assembling an IKEA rug. There’s no menace, no transformation scene to speak of—just a jump cut and some Dollar Tree makeup.
This werewolf isn’t scary. He’s barely noticeable. He’s like a guy at Comic-Con who lost a bet.
The Humor: Cold, Limp, and Smelling of Wet Dog
Cohen’s brand of humor works when he’s unhinged. But here, it’s like he’s working from a checklist of sitcom one-liners and dad jokes. The film tries to channel a spoof style akin to Airplane! or Kentucky Fried Movie, but lacks the timing, charm, or visual wit. It’s like watching someone try to play the drums with cooked spaghetti.
You want a taste of the comedy? One scene features an old lady mistaking Tony’s wolf form for a “randy German Shepherd.” Another includes a sequence where a football coach tries to molest the teen protagonist. Laughs? No. Just uncomfortable silence and the creeping dread that this was greenlit.
The jokes aren’t edgy. They’re lazy. And worse, they’re dated—like 1973-dated, despite this being released in 1981. It feels like someone dug up an old Love Boat spec script, sprinkled in a werewolf subplot, and said, “We got ourselves a movie!”
Ed McMahon: The Real Monster
Somehow, Ed McMahon ends up being the weirdest thing in the movie—and this is a film with immortal teenagers, Cold War agents, and a werewolf who enrolls in high school thirty years after graduating. McMahon plays Tony’s CIA dad with the subtlety of a concussed rhinoceros. He’s loud, he’s awkward, and he seems like he wandered in from a liquor commercial. You half expect him to offer someone a giant novelty check.
There’s a subplot involving McMahon’s character having a CIA mission to kill communists in Eastern Europe, but it’s so clumsily presented it feels like someone lost a bet and had to write “the Cold War, but with fur.”
The Supporting Cast: A Parade of Bad Wigs and Worse Dialogue
The women in this movie are mostly written as scenery. They’re either lusting after Tony, confused by Tony, or shrieking at Tony in werewolf form—which, to be fair, is the most authentic response. Roz Kelly (Pinky Tuscadero from Happy Days) is in here, playing a character who exists solely to deliver failed double entendres and look confused.
Tony’s love interest—there are a few—appear and vanish like werewolf mythology. One minute he’s into a teenage girl, the next he’s courting her daughter years later after outliving everyone. It’s not romantic. It’s not even spooky. It’s just creepy in a “Chris Hansen, have a seat” kind of way.
Direction and Editing: Cinematic Taxidermy
Larry Cohen is no amateur. He’s given us cult classics, gonzo horror, and offbeat brilliance. But here, it’s like he’s trying to sabotage himself. The pacing lurches. The editing is awkward. The cinematography is flat, like it was lit with bug zappers and hope. You can practically hear the crew sighing behind the camera.
At one point, the film fast-forwards 30 years—and no one ages except the protagonist. The town is the same. The high school is the same. It’s as if the entire budget was spent on one fog machine and a box of discount werewolf gloves.
Even the music sounds like it was composed by someone who just discovered what a Casio keyboard was—unconvincing, intrusive, and weirdly whimsical when it should’ve been chilling or clever.
Final Thoughts: Bury It at the Crossroads
Full Moon High is a film at war with itself. It wants to be a satire, a horror comedy, a teen farce, and a Cold War spoof—but it fails at all of them. It’s neither sharp nor scary. The laughs don’t land, the effects don’t sell, and the plot collapses like a doghouse made of graham crackers.
It’s a werewolf movie with no bite. A comedy with no timing. A film with the rhythm of a drunk werewolf limping through a PTA meeting.
If you’re a die-hard fan of Larry Cohen, you might find something in here worth salvaging—maybe a few weird lines, maybe a glimmer of intent. But for everyone else, Full Moon High is best left to the graveyard of failed genre mashups, buried under a tombstone that reads: “Here lies potential, smothered by shtick.”
1.5 out of 5 bones. And that’s being generous.
