Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Some movies are so bad they’re good. Others are so bad they’re painful. And then there’s Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf, a film so catastrophically misguided that even Christopher Lee—horror royalty himself—walked off set wishing for garlic, a crucifix, and a dimensional portal back to 1958 Hammer Films. This movie doesn’t just miss the mark; it forgets there was a mark in the first place.
The Plot That Forgot to Exist
The movie opens with Karen White’s funeral, carrying over from the far superior Howling (1981). Instead of paying respect to her character, the sequel wastes no time throwing us into a plot that feels like it was scribbled on a cocktail napkin in Prague. Stefan Crosscoe (Christopher Lee) crashes the funeral to announce: surprise, your sister’s a werewolf. Naturally, Ben (Karen’s brother, played with the emotional range of a brick by Reb Brown) and journalist Jenny hop on a plane to Transylvania to stop the werewolf queen Stirba, played by Sybil Danning, who spends most of her screen time snarling, writhing, or showing her breasts.
And that’s basically the plot: travel, mumble some exposition, wander through Eastern European festivals, storm Stirba’s castle, and roll credits. It’s like a bad Dungeons & Dragons campaign with fangs and worse hairpieces.
Christopher Lee, Stuck in Purgatory
Christopher Lee tries. Oh, how he tries. Watching him solemnly recite werewolf lore while decked out in neon sunglasses is like watching Shakespeare forced to do Saturday Night Live skits while high on cough syrup. Lee later apologized to Joe Dante (who directed the first Howling) for being in this sequel. That tells you everything you need to know.
There are moments where Lee stares into the camera with such quiet despair you can almost hear his inner monologue: “I was Dracula. I was Saruman. And now I’m… whatever this is.”
Reb Brown: Scream, Punch, Repeat
Reb Brown, who plays Ben White, acts the same way he does in every film: by yelling every line like it’s a battle cry. Imagine a guy who screams “NOOO!” at car alarms, toasters, and puppies. That’s Reb. His chemistry with Annie McEnroe (Jenny) is non-existent; they look less like romantic leads and more like coworkers stuck in the same cubicle after hours.
When he finally fights werewolves, it’s like watching a linebacker try to win a bar fight against a group of furry convention rejects.
Sybil Danning: The Real Star
Let’s be honest: the only reason this film is remembered at all is Sybil Danning. Her character, Stirba, is a leather-clad, bi-curious werewolf queen celebrating her 10,000th birthday by writhing around in slow motion. Her most famous moment comes in the end credits, where a single clip of her tearing her top off is replayed 17 times in a row, as if the editor said, “Screw it, this is the only salvageable footage we’ve got.”
The rest of the film tries to be sexy, but it lands somewhere between awkward soft-core and a bad Halloween party where someone spiked the punch with dog tranquilizers.
Special Effects (Or Lack Thereof)
Werewolves should be scary. In The Howling (1981), the transformation scenes were legendary. In Howling II, the werewolves look like mascots from bankrupt minor league teams. The effects are laughably inconsistent—sometimes it’s rubber masks, sometimes it’s shag carpet stapled to extras. The result? Monsters that look less like terrifying predators and more like rejected Muppets.
When the climactic castle battle finally arrives, the editing is so choppy it feels like the werewolves are teleporting. And not in a cool way. More like in a “we lost half the footage and just went with it” way.
Prague Problems
The film was shot in then-communist Czechoslovakia, and it shows. Director Philippe Mora had to import literal trash from America to make the streets look dirty enough for his vision. Extras cast as “punks” caused such chaos that the military had to intervene. That’s right: the filming of Howling II almost caused an international incident. Frankly, that’s more exciting than anything that happens in the movie itself.
The Soundtrack
There’s a New Wave band, Babel, that keeps showing up, playing the same song, “The Howling,” over and over again. By the fifth time you hear it, you’ll either be humming along or plotting to track down every member of Babel and make them answer for your suffering. It’s like if every time Jason showed up in Friday the 13th, the soundtrack was just the Bee Gees playing “Stayin’ Alive.”
The Infamous Ending
The finale, if you can call it that, features Christopher Lee stabbing Stirba with a magic dagger while everyone else dies in confusingly edited sequences. Then we’re treated to a “twist” ending involving a child in a werewolf costume, which is supposed to be ominous but instead feels like a lost Goosebumps episode.
But none of it matters because the end credits hijack the movie into becoming a Sybil Danning striptease reel. If you cut out everything else and just kept those credits, you’d have a tighter, more honest film.
Legacy of Laughter
Howling II isn’t scary. It isn’t sexy. It isn’t even coherent. But it is funny—though not intentionally. Christopher Lee’s misery, Reb Brown’s constant yelling, and Sybil Danning’s wardrobe malfunctions combine into a perfect storm of camp. This is the kind of film you watch at 2 a.m. with friends and alcohol, not because you enjoy it but because you enjoy mocking it.
The first Howling was a clever, satirical take on werewolf lore. Howling II is a cinematic hangover. A sequel nobody wanted, delivered by a production company that couldn’t afford a decent werewolf mask, and starring actors who all look like they’re praying for the sweet release of death.
Final Verdict
If you ever wondered what happens when you mix gothic horror, bad New Wave, and a topless werewolf queen, this is your answer: 90 minutes of unintentional comedy and wasted talent. Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf is less a movie and more a cautionary tale—proof that just because you can make a sequel doesn’t mean you should.
