Der Tod hat schwarze Krallen

Made for a paltry sum in 1957, this horror film grossed over 2 million dollars in a week. Its combination monster and teen angst struck a chord with audiences, especially the core teen-agers. Dozens of related films followed in the late 1950s. Michael Landon is handsome and brooding, in the James Dean mold [in fact he wears a stripe-lined dark baseball jacket almost as good as Dean's red one in "Rebel Without A Cause" (1955)], who seeks help for his violent tendencies. Yvonne Lime is lackluster as Landon's girlfriend, but Whit Bissell is compelling as a demented psychiatrist who transforms Landon into a part-time werewolf. Two set-pieces are masterfully constructed: in the first attack a teen boy is walking home through the woods, and suddenly hears footsteps behind him. Shot day-for-night, we hear no music, just see branches, brush and meadows, and hear crunching sounds. It's terrifying. The second sequence begins with Landon watching a girl practice on a parallel bar in a gym. The bell rings and he is transformed. This is our first look at the werewolf makeup and it's effective. But the girl is hanging and sees him upside down and so do we for a short while, set to a magnetic musical score, and it's thrilling. Later the monster hunt becomes a bit drawn-out, aided by a janitor from "the old country" who speaks of werewolf legends, a replacement for the gypsy woman from "The Wolf Man" (1941). This is undoubtedly Michael Landon's most famous and best screen performance, since he got lost to TV.

The influential "I Was a Teenage Werewolf" marked the starring debut of 20 year old Michael Landon, still two years away from TV's epic Western BONANZA. The sad fate of the late James Dean would inspire a number of copycat versions of "Rebel Without a Cause," so the intervention of new AIP producer Herman Cohen to combine teenagers and terror would quickly become a staple of drive in fare for many years (the shooting title was the very straightforward "Blood of the Werewolf"). Veteran film editor Gene Fowler Jr. (working steadily from the early 40s into the 80s) made his feature directorial debut, directing another six cult films and a number of TV episodes over the next five years before returning to the editing room for the remainder of his career. He was at the helm for Gloria Talbott's classic "I Married a Monster from Outer Space," plus a pair of early starring roles for Charles Bronson, in "Showdown at Boot Hill" and "Gang War," typically displaying more savvy than more experienced pros. Just as Alfred Hitchcock graduated from the editor's chair, Fowler benefits from a solid script and characterizations, instantly grabbing the audience with an opening fistfight that demonstrates the short temper and mistrusting nature of our protagonist, Tony Rivers (Landon), whose past run ins with the law have mounted to such a degree that he is now required to seek psychiatric help. Unfortunately (or fortunately, since we wouldn't get a monster), the MD turns out to be the less than ethical Alfred Brandon (Whit Bissell), who sees his latest patient as the perfect 'disturbed' subject to undergo hypnotic treatment coupled with a serum that is supposed to prove than mankind's future depends on the savagery of his past (another topical nod to Bridey Murphy). The first attack is masterfully staged, the intended victim walking home alone through the woods, unable to see whatever it is that's creeping up on him yet too terrified to escape (even the music is effectively scary). We first watch him transform into a sweater clad werewolf at the 45 minute mark when the school bell rings in his ear, his gymnast victim played by Dawn Richard, Playboy's May 1957 Playmate of the Month, who sees her attacker approach upside down in a nice touch. The remainder of the film keeps him in hirsute form, until his human self seeks help from the doctor who betrayed him, earning his justified reward. Landon takes full advantage of the part and always cherished his lone horror vehicle, paying tribute as a middle aged werewolf on his last TV series HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN. The transformations are done by lap dissolves, Landon's snarling, drooling creation one of cinema's best, going on to play a multitude of villains prior to the phenomenally successful BONANZA. From the teens to the cops the entire cast performs admirably, only the oddball scientist is cliched to the point of ridicule (we could of course do without the token musical number). Whit Bissell took the top slot in the even more outrageous "I Was a Teenage Frankenstein" before returning to supporting roles, while James Best ("The Killer Shrews") surprisingly pops up unbilled as a record spinner who gets slapped for being fresh. Both the Teenage Werewolf and Teenage Frankenstein would be teamed in "How to Make a Monster," Gary Clarke replacing Landon under the makeup. One of AIP's biggest moneymakers, earning $2 million on a budget of $82,000, theatrically double billed with Robert Gurney's "Invasion of the Saucer Men."

Despite its apt but risible title, "I Was a Teenage Werewolf," surprises in both the sincerity of its playing, as well as by its accomplished technical credentials. Campy confessional title nothwithstanding, there is nothing about the screenplay that is deliberately parodic.

Effectively photographed by distinguished cinematographer Joseph La Shelle, and bolstered by an excellent musical score, the film thus provides a solid showcase for both its scenario and the performances of its young principals.

More importantly, (and this is what gives the picture a leg up on others of its ilk) the film is moodily under-lit, giving much of it a film noir ambiance. This is most evident in the hypnosis sequences, (the best in the film) which are staged and photographed in a way very reminiscent of Lewton's "Cat People."

Anyone doubting the value of the change purse aesthetics at work here need only consult the negligible results attained in such schlock as "Blood of Dracula" or the pre-Poe Corman films, which make "Teenage Werewolf" look like David Lean by comparison. Here the sincere effort of the technical crew shows: an unsettled, fatalistic brooding mood is generated, taking equal measure from the sense of doom hanging over the protagonist and expressed in shadows everywhere, even in mid-day living rooms and psychiatrist's offices.

Mr. Landon brings a sensitive intensity to the role that is wholly convincing, and he is ably abetted by all in support. Mr. Sokoloff is fine in his masculine reprise of the Maria Ouspenkaya role from Lon Chaney's "The Wolfman," and a pre Zorro Guy Williams shows up effectively as a policeman.

While admittedly done on a modest budget, this limitation is actually an asset, inasmuch as it prevents the art direction from going over the top in its very effective depiction of proletariat domestic interiors, (Miss Lime's character even has Archie and Edith Bunker type parents.) Thus, the homes, teen club, principal's office etc. are "right on the money."

Even so, sharp eyed viewers will note that a leather sofa does double duty in both the police detective's and Miss Fergusan's office. Similarly, Dr. Brandon's and Miss Fergusan's respective office's are the same set, re-arranged, and re-dressed.

For his part, Mr. Landon, flush with his TV western success, and (equipped with accompanying footage), lampooned his role in the film in a 1969 guest appearance on the Jerry Lewis TV show.

I first saw this when I was about 14 and I immediately felt it was one of the best horror movies I had ever seen! Forget that- I thought it was one of the best MOVIES I had ever seen. I saw it again at around 50 and couldn't believe I felt that way! But I do recall that I totally related to the "angst" and mental torment Michael Landon's character expressed- the alienation from everyone, especially parents and older people, the intensity, loneliness and longing for...something. Landon's moodiness and range in something other than "Little Joe" or "Little House on the Prarie" romanticized optimism roles showed he had more to offer than we typically saw. It definitely was one of the best of the "I was a teenage..." genre.

A group of us guys were discussing the scariest films we'd seen as kids. I was 10 in 1957 when I saw this film while spending a week on Catalina Island. The theater was at the landmark "Casino" which was about a half mile walk from the small port village of Avalon. I was heavily absorbed in war, sci-fi, and western action films, with a special appreciation for stunts and special effects but unfamiliar with the horror genre in general and werewolf lore in particular. I was also the runt tagging along with a trio of cool eleven year old friends. It could've been a scene out of "Stand By Me". Four smart-ass kids walking at night down a dirt road to see "I Was a Teenage Werewolf" for my first and only time.

As an aspiring artist, I remember being fascinated by the opening titles where a make-up artist sketched the monster's face but when the actual transformation took place in the film it freaked me out, to say the least. Maybe it was the collective scream of a hundred other kids, but I covered my eyes until brave enough to slowly glimpse the monster. The scenes shot in Griffith Park looked too much like the dark, tree lined path we had walked to the theater. That half mile walk back to town was the longest, creepiest walk of my childhood.

A few months later I saw "A Man of a Thousand Faces" and became completely fascinated by the art of make-up and dove into everything I could find on Lon Chaney Sr. Later I finally saw Chaney Jr. in "The Wolf Man". By then I was too cool to be scared but still reading anything I could find on werewolf and vampire lore and probably first in line to see "I Was a Teenage Frankenstein".