If you were hoping for a werewolf movie that gets your heart racing and your nerves on edge, you’d better keep looking, because The Beast Must Die is more likely to put you into a coma than give you a fright. Directed by Paul Annett and starring a somewhat eccentric cast that includes Calvin Lockhart, Peter Cushing, and Michael Gambon, this 1974 British horror film tries to sell itself as a thrilling detective mystery with a werewolf twist. What it ends up being, however, is a sluggish, overhyped mess of half-baked mystery, cheesy scares, and an utterly laughable “werewolf break” that only serves to remind you of how little you care about the mystery at hand.
The premise sounds promising: a millionaire big-game hunter, Tom Newcliffe (Calvin Lockhart), invites a group of individuals to his mansion, where he reveals that one of them is a werewolf. The group — which includes a disgraced diplomat, an archaeologist, and an artist recently released from prison — spends the weekend being put through a series of increasingly bizarre and arbitrary tests in an attempt to identify the werewolf. But what could have been an interesting psychological game of cat and mouse turns into a sluggish, uninspired affair with far too much time spent watching people wander around the mansion aimlessly, rather than any actual tension building.
For starters, the film’s gimmick — which invites the audience to guess the identity of the werewolf through a “werewolf break” — is less clever and more irritating. As if the lackluster plot weren’t enough of a drag, we are interrupted halfway through with a 30-second “pause,” allowing us to play detective and guess who the werewolf is. Now, I get it, the filmmakers were going for something innovative, but all this “break” does is point out just how tedious the movie is. By the time the “pause” rolls around, you’re already too exhausted to care, and you’re left wondering if you accidentally signed up for a game of Clue rather than a werewolf horror flick.
As for the acting, let’s just say that Peter Cushing — a legend in the world of horror — is sorely wasted here. Cushing’s performance as the calm, cool, and collected Professor Lundgren is the only remotely interesting thing in the film, but even his talents can’t save a script this lazy. Calvin Lockhart, who plays Tom Newcliffe, tries his best, but his character is so obnoxiously obsessed with hunting the werewolf that you end up wishing he were the one to meet an untimely demise. The rest of the cast is forgettable at best, with performances that fail to elevate the weak material.
The film’s pacing is perhaps its greatest sin. After a relatively interesting setup, the movie proceeds at a crawl. The characters spend an inordinate amount of time running around the mansion, setting up elaborate motion sensors and silver object tests, none of which have any real impact on the narrative. Watching people test for werewolves via motion sensorsfeels like the filmmakers didn’t quite understand what made the Werewolf genre so thrilling in the first place. This is supposed to be a horror movie, but most of the time, it’s just people talking in circles, trying to create tension that’s nowhere to be found.
By the time we get to the “werewolf” action, it’s a long, drawn-out disappointment. The transformation effects — which are a vital component of any werewolf movie — are so cheap and unimpressive that you almost feel like you’ve been pranked. The big reveal, where the werewolf is finally unmasked as Jan (Michael Gambon), the pianist, comes far too late, and by then, you’ve already lost any interest in the mystery. In fact, the film’s final moments are more frustrating than satisfying, as the supposed “twist” that Tom himself has been bitten and will become the next werewolf is treated with the same lack of urgency as the rest of the film. The grand conclusion, with Tom locking himself in the mansion and shooting himself with a silver bullet, feels like a sad attempt at emotional payoff, but it falls flat.
The cinematography, which should have added atmosphere to the film, is as dull as the rest of it. The mansion, which could have been a perfect setting for suspense and tension, ends up looking like a set rather than a location, giving the entire film an artificial feel. The scenes that are supposed to evoke fear or danger are more often than not underlit or poorly staged, and the audience is left with very little to latch onto in terms of mood or atmosphere. The film’s attempt to mix the werewolf genre with a detective story also feels awkward, as though it can’t decide if it wants to be a psychological thriller or a monster movie — and as a result, it fails miserably at both.
And let’s not even talk about the werewolf costume. When the big bad wolf finally makes an appearance, it’s not scary — it’s laughable. The creature looks more like something you’d see in a bad 1970s sitcom Halloween special than a legitimate horror movie. If you’re going to have a werewolf movie, at least make the werewolf terrifying. Instead, what we get is a cheap knockoff that doesn’t even make an attempt to create any lasting fear.
In the end, The Beast Must Die is a prime example of a film that thinks it’s much smarter and more exciting than it actually is. It tries to capitalize on the popular werewolf genre but ends up missing the mark in almost every possible way. It’s too slow, too self-indulgent, and too predictable. The “werewolf break” is an irritating gimmick that only highlights how little the film has to offer, and the lackluster performances and ineffective scares make this one a tough watch. If you’re looking for a good werewolf film, look elsewhere. The Beast Must Die is a pale imitation of better films, and quite frankly, it should have stayed in the shadows.
