Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf (1985)

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*. What a stupid title. Though I suppose it’s better than what they had originally planned: Howling II: Stirba – Werewolf Bitch.
*. What a terrible pre-credit sequence. Christopher Lee alone in the starry sky reciting Revelation. It made me think of Dune, and who wants to be reminded of that?
*. I remember the only reason I went to this movie in 1985 was to see Sybil Danning’s tits. I was not disappointed. And you can tell from the closing credits that the producers knew damn well what they were selling. Elsewhere, I have to say she looks sensational in her biker/dominatrix outfit. The furry three-way, on the other hand, deserves recognition on some short list of the worst couplings ever filmed.
*. Poor Christopher Lee. Such a long, undistinguished career for such a distinguished actor. What did he think when he read the script for this one? I wonder if he cared.

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*. This wasn’t really a sequel to The Howling, though they do make a very feeble gesture in that direction. It is, at least, where they indirectly picked up the stupid subtitle.
*. Despite Roger Ebert’s dubbing the original as one of the silliest movies ever made, this one is much sillier.
*. And tackier. You don’t even get any decent werewolf transformation effects, but only a repetitive series of cutaways.
*. What is with those cutaways? Not only are they repetitive, many of them don’t make any sense. It’s like time and then space have dissolved. I mean, has the new wave band been transported to Transylvania at the end? Or is that a flashback?
*. Speaking of the band (their name was Babel), you have to love/hate how the club scene was presented in such a generic way in the movies of this time. It’s like they just smushed punk and new wave and metal and everything else together and then threw it on stage with a bunch of flashing disco lights. If that was the ’80s then I must have missed it.
*. Speaking of the ’80s, if there was anything worse than the porn of that era then it was the pseudo-porn of that era. The orgies here are ghastly. Still, I like the idea of horny werewolves. It seems like a nice life – all they do is eat and fuck.
*. Jenny, by the way, would fit right in with their pack. She practically throws herself on Ben’s cock the first chance she gets. Which comes quickly after she suggests they share a room at the hotel.
*. I’m not sure why Lee gives Ben and Jenny a picture of Mariana. So they they will be able to identify her? She must be the only black woman in the village, and it’s not like she dresses down so as not to attract attention.
*. The business with the killer dwarf has to be a nod to Don’t Look Now, doesn’t it?
*. As with a lot of so-bad-they’re-almost-good movies, it’s hard to tell how seriously anyone involved took it. According to director Philippe Mora (as reported by Michael Adams in his book Showgirls, Teen Wolves, and Astro Zombies) “you couldn’t do it seriously.” And indeed most of it seems to have been a joke. But then most of the jokes don’t work. I mean, what about the ending? I can’t make any sense out of it at all.
*. I did enjoy the full slate of silly wipe effects. Somebody was having fun.
*. So that’s where they got that crazy horned helmet Jay Hernandez briefly dons in Hostel! It must have been kicking around a prop room for twenty years.
*. Could the dialogue have been any more stilted? It’s like the characters are robots. And then at the end they turn into aliens, what with the mumbo-jumbo they’re reciting and the lasers beaming all around them (or are they back in the dance club?). Apparently pieces of a Wicca chant are used. In any event, none of it seems remotely Christian.
*. Maybe not quite in the running for the “best worst movie ever,” but it’s close. I do recommend it to aficionados of the bizarre. The transgressive sex, campy outfits, bizarre editing, over-the-top script (silver bullets won’t cut it against these werewolves, they have to be titanium!), gratuitous and dated “special” effects, wonky narrative hiccups, and overall incoherence give what should have been a complete piece of garbage a hint of the joyfully surreal.

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