Before mad doctors and perversions of science ruled the roost, Universal Studios stocked its monster roster with the finest creatures folklore had to offer. Those beasts that thrived in campfire tales now got to stalk the silver screen, not the least of which was the dreaded werewolf. Most people think of Lon Chaney Jr. as cinema's most famous lycanthrope, but five years before The Wolf Man, the cycle really got cooking with 1935's Werewolf of London. Starring Henry Hull, Warner Oland, Valerie Hobson, Lester Matthews and Lawrence Grant, this film is less schlock-centric than its successors, though despite a few stiff patches, the story is more effective and the overall production more classy because of it.

Henry Hull & Valerie Hobson

Hull plays Wilfred Glendon, a good man of science and conviction. His search for exotic botany has taken him to Tibet, where he finds the rare "mariphasa lupina" flower, said to bloom only in moonlight. But when the good doctor collects some samples to take home, he does so at a terrifying price. A strange creature attacks Glendon and leaves him with a mighty bad mark, which the peculiar Dr. Yogami (Oland) claims is that of the werewolf.

It's all superstition to Glendon, until one fateful evening sees his own transformation into a ferocious beast. Now condemned to kill with each full moon, Glendon learns that the only hope of a cure lies with his dwindling mariphasa supply - which Yogami is eager to get his own hands on.

For Universal's first big lycanthropic romp, Werewolf of London is in impressive shape. It wasn't drawn from any single source material, nor did it inspire any follow-ups of its own. The film exists in its own world, and since few werewolf conventions were established at the time, it doesn't really dwell on them.

Director Stuart Walker cuts to the chase with his story, in which elements of horror and melodrama are combined with considerable ease. Being a werewolf means Glendon is forced to destroy that which he loves most, which in this case means his young wife, Lisa (Valerie Hobson). Their relationship is strained to begin with, and Glendon's attempts to protect her from his hairy side only further steer her towards the arms of a childhood suitor (Lester Matthews). The film is a tragedy at heart, and despite the presence of the supernatural, the drama isn't at all difficult to buy into.

The mushy stuff is all well and good, but how does Werewolf of London fare as a straight-up monster mash? Actually, pretty well. While the scares are a mild mix, the dark London set design provides Glendon's alter ego with some appropriately moody prowling grounds. Hull himself is just as adept with trying to hang onto his beloved spouse as he is with slinking about in search of fresh prey, enhanced by Jack Pierce make-up that truly blurs the line between man and animal. Early scream queen Hobson possesses equal parts vulnerability and spunk, while Oland's Yogami proves to be a particularly wily opponent. The film's missteps are few, though its comic relief is the worst offender. Such moments are supposed to duplicate James Whale's eccentric sense of humor (as displayed in The Invisible Man), though they more often than not stop the pacing dead in its tracks.

Though The Wolf Man continues to overshadow it (and is admittedly still the better film), Werewolf of London is an engrossing little classic all its own. No mere curiosity better left to wither in obscurity, the flick retains a singular flavor while setting the stage for a lot of what future wolf man pictures would carry on. Be it on DVD or good old VHS, Werewolf of London is worth popping in any night, full moon or not.

Director: Stuart Walker

Writer: John Colton (story by Robert Harris)

Cast: Henry Hull, Warner Oland, Valerie Hobson, Lester Matthews, Lawrence Grant

Rating: No MPAA Rating (some scariness)

Classic Movie Guide Rating: 3 stars out of 5

Run Time: 75 minutes

Studio: Universal Pictures

Format: Black-and-white, fullscreen

Photo credits: Universal Pictures