A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Lycan La Vida Loca

May 28, 2011
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Zine #2 has been relaunched as Lycan La Vida Loca on Smashwords it can be downloaded in Kindle, Sony E-Reader, KOBi, Epub, PDF etc… Yay!I

So if you’ve only just come across my blog and you have no idea who I am or who these men I talk about on it are. Lycan La Vida Loca will explain a bit of my personal history and into the complications of my love life.


Photo by Otto Yamamotto
Cc by 2.0


Of Wolf and Male

May 25, 2011
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Zine #1 has been relaunched as Of Wolf and Male on Smashwords.

This is great for all you E Readers! As it can be downloaded in Kindle, Sony E-Reader, KOBi, Epub, PDF etc… Yay!
I even did a new cover for the occasion.

So if you’ve only just come across my blog and you have no idea who I am or who these men I talk about on it are. Of Wolf and Male (Zine#1) is a good introduction into the complications of my love life.


Claws and effect

June 14, 2010
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Karma is a concept of cause and effect. But perhaps in my case, that should be claws and effect. In layman’s turns, most people will say to you, when speaking of karma “What goes around, comes around.” In otherwords, you’ll get what’s coming to you in the end. It usually implies all manner of bad behaviour and doom and gloom. And it never specifies the timeline for your karmic retribuition to be layed down upon you.

In other words, karma, my friends, is a bitch.

If you don’t live your life well and good and treat your fellow beings with the same respect you show unto yourself, or would like show unto you, then you’re screwed sunshine.

I got a phone call from all people, my ex boyfriend – Conall. Yes, I know I should have deleted his sorry name from the existence of my cell phone. But I haven’t. I guess I forgot. I should have put a block on it also. But I guess I forgot to do that too.

Although now, after the phone call I received, I think I’m rather glad I didn’t block his number.

Don’t get me wrong, pack, is pack and always will be, with us Breukelen werewolves. But Conall and I will never be together again. However, despite our differences, you could say, we still look out for one another, because we’re of the same kind. Werewolves, Breukelen werewolves.

The point to pack, is this. Protecting one another. I guess that’s why he called me.

It was a shock to my system to get his call. After all the stuff that’s gone down lately, and just when Paris and I seem to be closing the gap on our own little spat together. We couldn’t be more solid, especially since Paris told me he wants to help me find out who the lycan hunter was. He’s promised to help me, look into that lycan.

Then I get this voicemail from Conall.

“I know you’re going to be tempted to erase this message when you hear my voice. But you need to call me. This isn’t about me, It’s related to Vargr.”

You know how people will describe having something like chills run through their body at the sound of bad news or having a sinking feeling about some approaching badness? Yeah well, Vargr is my bad thing. My doing.

When Conall said that word, the hair at the back of my neck stood to attention and pulled, like a screaming child, fighting the hand that holds it still.

I swear I felt my wolf, kick me with her claws, internally. Bile rose in my throat. Not a normal reaction to a phone call, Conall or bad news for me.

But that’s because Vargr is my doing. I still carry the shame of biting a non around with me. I couldn’t come up with a solution to the problem of me possibly infecting this human with lycanthropy that didn’t involve time travel.

What was done, was done. Even if it was in self defense. Still, that’s hardly an excuse for a werewolf. We have to be in more control than some sort of reaction state.

I bit vargr in human form. So I hoped like hell, that the lycanthropy wouldn’t carry through to his bloodstream. Although, I probably broke his skin, with my supposedly “human” teeth. I bit down so hard, I hit bone and chipped my tooth.

I’ve never known any werewolf to pass on lycanthropy to a non in human form. As far as I am aware, you have to be in your tribal werewolf form to do that.

But who knows? Not me.
So I called Conall.

“I uh, got your message. How do you know it’s vargr?” I asked him nervously.

I was alone when I was mugged. So how could Conall know who vargr was?

“His scent, it had something familiar in it. Like the lightest trace of you.” Conall replied back at me. “I’d know you’re scent anywhere. You know that.”

Of course I knew that.

Werewolves can lock scents into their systems, human or animal, for their whole life and recall, the memory associated with it.

Then again, Conall and I did go out for a long time also. So I guess you could say he knew me well.

“Shit.” I decided panicking was in order.

My mind raced. So vargr, the mugger, I had initially bitten in self defense had survived the lycanthropy. But I’d created a lycan. Seriously bad news.

“I’m following him now.”

“Where are you now?”

“Headed into Greenwood Cemetary.”

No wonder I hadn’t been able to find vargr when I’d tried tracing his where about after the mugging. I’d never thought to look in a cemetery.

Why would I?

“I’ll hop on the subway, and meet you there. Just keep your distance following him. We don’t want to spook him.”

“Sure, but what are you going to do once you’re here? With him?”

“I don’t know.”

And the thing was, I didn’t. I’m not the strategist in my family, that’s my sister Bodil. She’s got the smarts for that.

“Alright, keep you posted. Get here soon.”

“On my way.” I disconnected the call looking at the phone stupefied. My mind awhirl of mixed emotions.

What’ve I done?


Werewolf vs Werewolf

May 20, 2010
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Paris’s eyes were dark and drilling into me. His face was taunt, and looked strained. Dare I say it, but I of course, was the cause of his distress. He’d made me sit down atop a table at Addison’s house in Alphabet City, where they’d taken me, because it was closest to the area the lycan bitch and I had been caught fighting in. I had a tissue to my constantly bleeding blood nose and my head slightly tilted back, trying to stop the flow.

So there I was, sitting still, my scrapped knees dangling over a table top, keeping my mouth shut, saying nothing, and looking grim, and coated in blood, namely my own, waiting for my reprimand from my boyfriend the Manhattan Pack leader, like I was under police investigation.

But it wasn’t coming, the reprimand.

He was holding my right hand, gently and wiping the blood off the broken skin on and around my knuckles and hand. Every now and then his eyes would wander up and down my arms, silently counting, I think, all the scratch marks along them. They went right up my arms. Pink lines of varying degrees of depth, colour, scaring and blood. She’d cut through my top, shredded the long sleeves.
Not that it bothered me. Nothing about what I’d done bothered me. I was lucky I figured, but didn’t care for lucky, the corner of my bottom lip was torn, slightly away from my mouth. But none of my injuries mattered.

Getting back into the fight with that lycan, that mattered to me.I was going numb to the pain, because my anger was keeping me warm inside.

Paris being silent towards me, bothered me. A lot. Still, I refused to break the silence. I was in no mood for talking anyway. I could barely bring myself to look at the Alpha male behind Paris in the kitchen, pacing away – Addison. As far as I was concerned, he was completely at fault.

What fucking werewolf interferes in a fight that isn’t their own?

The werewolf Addison, that’s who.

There’s no real politics or ruling on this type of thing, jumping in on a regular wolf street fight. It’s just not…wise, or appreciated and I guess you could say, that in terms of the fight I’d started with the lycan bitch, it undermined me in front of her. Again.

What fucking werewolf likes to look like a weakling in front of other werewolves or more insultingly, a lycan?

Not me. I have pride, in bucket loads.
Hence the staunchly silence of my unspoken anger.

“Wanna talk to me?” Paris finally asked, as he squeezed the red coated washer out in the warm bowl of water beside my hand. My eyes flicked past him and glared at Addison who’d decided to stop pacing long enough to lean against the kitchen bench top. He folded his arms over his chest and stared straight back at me.

“I did you a favor, that lycan was going to pummel you into a new existence.” Addison fired at me before I broke eye contact.

“Addison, why don’t you leave us in private.” Paris said half turning his head towards his second in command. We both watched as Addison marched out of the kitchen area loudly and unhappily.

“Now, wanna tell me what happened?” Paris said taking up my left hand and starting to wipe it with the warm liquid.

“He was going to break both my ankles you know.” I muttered. Knowing I was acting childishly and not caring.

Paris stopped cleaning my hand wound then and looked at me in earnest seriousness.

“I’d never let him get away with doing that to you. But you must’ve pushed him to his limit, Addison isn’t one to threaten violence easily. Kingsley on the other hand…” Paris said referring to another one of the Alpha warriors in the Manhattan Maen hierarchy.

“I got into a fight.”

Paris sighed heavily and started wiping down my hand again, gently. “Believe it or not, I can see the evidence of that. Believe me, from what Addison told me of what he and Jules saw of the fight, you’re lucky they intervened when they did.”

“I was holding my own.”

“You’re covered in your own blood. That lycan has scarred you all over.” He went on.“You’re going to have to shape shift to heal all this. Pretty soon too, I would think, as soon as your nose stops bleeding.”

I pulled the bright red soaked tissue away from my nose. It was practically falling apart in my hands it was so damp.

“I need to find that lycan.”

“Not gonna happen.” Paris replied firmly. “Jules is still out there, tracking her down. We’re on it. You’re not going anywhere until you shape shift and recover.”

I sighed heavily back at him.

“Don’t make me make you.”

I guess it was the only warning I was going to get. Alpha werewolves can force another werewolf in or out of a shape shift mode, as well as kind of interfering with the wolf’s will, if you want to call it that. We call it influencing. And if I didn’t do it myself, then Paris would do it to me. Which doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a smooth ride. Especially when you’ve got fresh injuries, like mine. He didn’t even need to be in animal form to do it to me, if I understood correctly.

He put my hand back down and moved the bowl of water, which was now all watered red, not pick, away from us.

“Talk to me.” He pleaded, putting my head in his hand and turning it to face it.

“You ever been hunted?” I asked.

He dropped his hand and stood up straighter in front of me.

“No.”

“Yeah, well, I never told you I was when I was fourteen and that bitch of a lycan your guys let get away from me, was the hunter responsible.” I replied sliding off the table top.

Paris looked wounded, pained and wounded. But my anger was just so much greater.

I pushed past him out of the room. Maybe I could get through a fast shape shift, fast enough to recover and get back on my feet again to find that lycan. Or maybe I’d just go out after her in werewolf form. That’d probably be my better shot.


Beta Werewolf vs Alpha lycan

May 18, 2010
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How to explain to your boyfriend, that you’re out for the night, filling a vendetta?

Don’t bother. Because he’ll figure it out, anyway. Well, he will if he’s the leading pack Alpha of the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack and you, his girlfriend, are causing trouble in his territory.

If I’d been in my right mind, and not floating around in the obsession of getting payback on the female lycan hunter that has a rather personal history with me. Then I’d have realized, of course, that not much goes on in a werewolf’s territory, that doesn’t get noticed by some member of the pack.

Especially if the pack, like the Manhattan Maen is rather large in numbers. Of course it means, that some good little werewolf, is going to report a mad capped, ferocious werewolf versus lycan marathon through the streets of Manhattan to it’s hierarchy.

Especially when there is potential for human casualties to be involved and of course, a greater exposure to the law enforcement and human community to contend with.

I mean, twenty questions and more is just damn annoying.

Still, I was starting to bleed when Paris sent in the troops to find out what the hell was going on, after receiving a lot of weird phone calls about sightings about two women hell bent on destroying everything in their path as well, each other it seemed.

I didn’t get to do what I wanted with the lycan.

Because Addison and Jules, Paris’s tough guys caught up to me before I could.
Of course they would.

Alpha warriors who are the best at what they do, keep the peace on their side of the Hudson. You rarely hear about werewolf wars and werewolf fighting going on over here. Probably because Addison and Jules are great at great at fighting and of course, super strong.

They’re not the only ones Paris uses for such things, but they are his main guys. So when they saw when they came across me and miss lycan in a dead end alleyway circling each other and growling, they didn’t stop to ask questions.

I mean, a girl fight is pretty damn obvious. Especially since the lycan bitch had her fangs and her talon like finger nail claws out.

It all went down so fast. Like plunging headlong into an inescapable bad dream you know is going to swallow you up whole.

I was taking hits and landing two to her every four, then I hit the wall behind me.The boys just yanked me back out of the fight and jumped right in my place instead. Went head to head with the lycan.

To say I was ballistic would be an understatement in severity of my rage.

Which of course, was more than enough to scare the bejezus out of the lycan, well I’d like to think so. It was probably more to do with Addison and Jules tag teaming to keep me at bay and take hard hitting pot shots at her, that maybe, even she couldn’t really better.

Still she managed to high tailed it mightily fast out of there as Addison went for me, as I went to run after her and he yelled at Jules to go after the lycan.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I didn’t fight Addison. He may be my boyfriend’s right hand man in pack business and his best friend, but his timing and his concern for my welfare – sucked!

I thrashed like I was drowning in a rip-tide that was holding me in place. Nothing but energy and desperation, fuelled me as I struggled against him for a good ten minutes. Trying to get out of his one arm hold on me. I was like a paper weight to Addison, but even so, I kicked him in the shins, several times in a vain hope of release.

He phoned Paris to update him on what was going on. Although, I must’ve angered him at some point, because he did tell me, if I didn’t stop struggling he would break both my ankles. Regardless of who my boyfriend/his best friend was.

I stopped.

Of course I can recover from that, but the breaking bones part, it still hurts a hell of a lot and is inconvinent.

The brief gist of the covert conversation relayed to Paris went something like – the Manhattan Maen Alpha’s pack partner and girlfriend was going nuts at him over some unknown Lycan bitch who had evaded their capture, but that Jules was on it.

I stopped struggling and yelling at Addison after he finished the phone call, when he said to me
“Paris is on his way to see you.”

That statement alone, sounded like my fate was sealed. The tone of Addison’s voice didn’t sound like we were going to have the happiest of reunions.

On the bright side, at least my ankles are in tact.


Line of sight

May 12, 2010
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You know what happens when you hold onto something emotionally for a long time, when you can’t let go?

Life goes on around you, and you become the only one that remembers why you’re holding it so tight.

The feeling of justification that you need becomes a lone thought through tunneled vision, with it being all you can see or what or need.

So when the lycan turned around suddenly abrupt, breaking stride on the sidewalk and swiveled to face me, it shouldn’t have surprised me, that she looked straight through me. Her eyes darting about in the street, sizing up all the pedestrians and foot traffic surrounding her.

She is after all, just a lycan.

At first she didn’t get it, straight away, that I’m the hunter this time. Because, I look unassuming amongst the other bodies around us. Of course, I was the only one who held her gaze, and I was the only one who kept holding it and advancing towards her steadily. I was giving myself away. But by this stage, I didn’t really care. My emotions drive me, and they had gotten the better of me, I’d let my anxiousness seep out and she’d felt it.

Knew there was someone there tracking her.

She looked back at me, tilted her chin up slightly, her head to the side and looked down her nose at me. Like I was something of insignificance to her. The same thing, I’d been when I was fourteen and trying to deal with my first shape shift and a pack of hunters, who turned out to be angry lycans, out for some pay back on the breed that made them what they had become, against their will. Didn’t matter that I wasn’t responsible for their turning. Didn’t matter that I didn’t know them, had never met them before in my life.

All that ever mattered was that I was a werewolf.
And I’d made the mistake of being in their line of sight, in their world.

She lifted her nose slightly and sniffed. I watched her eyes widen, ever so slightly as the recognition of werewolf scent registered with her.

The bitch actually smiled at me.
Can you believe that?

But still she remained calm, in control. I could barely hear her heart beating.

I guess she wondered if I might actually just walk past her, just be some werewolf aware of her presence there on the street, but nothing more. Well, if she guessed that she guessed wrong.
She stared me down as I got closer to her and her smile got wider, as her heart beat picked up a bit more.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

I think she’d figured out by then that I was coming, but she doesn’t know me.

It’s apparent on her face that I’m an interesting surprise development in her day.
But she doesn’t know what this is about.

She doesn’t remember.

And I can’t forget.


Scavenger Hunt

May 10, 2010
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There is no mistaking my intended prey.

I would know that scent anywhere, and when the Lycan turned it’s head, giving me the perfect profile view of it’s face, everything inside me went wild and I wanted to scream and howl.

So you can take that as a confirmation of positive I.D.

But I clamped my mouth down tight. Fist my hands and forced myself to remain, calm.

The lycan tensed slightly and hesitated in step, but then clearly thought nothing further of it, and went along it’s merry little way.

The key to this is to remain calm. Because wolves, and lycans pick up on strong vibes, especially in close vicinity of one another. You can literally sense fear, feel an attack coming etc. It’s the animal side of us, it’s how it works. So if I let my emotions get the better of me than my element of surprise is gone, before I’ve even got close enough to reach out and touch my prey.

In a city filled with people, if the lycan hasn’t picked my trail then, it’s really, all the better for me. I want every advantage I can get. I intend to surprise, like a big bite of hindsight coming back for a haunting.

The problem with modern day hunting, in a city like New York is, you’re never really alone. So I’ve yet to figure out how to get the lycan alone. There’s also the problem of my cell phone, it keeps ringing.

I can ignore certain calls, and turn my phone to silent. But when Paris calls, I have to answer. That man takes persistence to a whole new level of achievement. Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you want to view it, my Prey lead me to a crowded area so I could answer my phone and seem inconspicuous. Just another New Yorker going about their business, in the hustle and bustle of daily life.

“Hey what’s up?” I greeted him with.

“I was wondering what you would like to do for dinner tonight, I can come and get you from..”

I smack my palm on my forehead. Paris knows my timetable. Shit. I’d gotten so absorbed in tracking the lycan through the city. I’d forgotten about pretty much everything else. Like eating and the rest of civilization.

How do I handle this?

“um..”

This opportunity can not pass. Not now!

My eyes were still focused on the movement of the lycan, walking amongst the unsuspecting humans on the sidewalk.

Don’t you hate it when you know yourself so well that you just know, you will beat yourself up if you let this opportunity pass through your fingers?

For forever.

And yet I know I’m going to hate myself just as much for the words that come out of my mouth.

“Can we do it another time? I’ve got something I’ve got to do tonight.”


I could be

May 6, 2010
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The werewolf shape shifting doesn’t really kick in, till a wolf hits puberty. That’s not to say other wolf traits, don’t already exist before then, it’s just the shape shifting has to wait till the body can take it on, or some such, I was told.

So at fourteen years old, I didn’t really have a grasp on all that I could be, would be. I didn’t understand how it all worked.

I mean, it’s one thing to be told what it’s going to be like, or what you might expect to happen to you. But it’s another, to actually go through a shape shift.

My family had been taking me and some friends of mine out on these trips, away from the NYC ever since I was twelve. Readying all of us to go through the first real big changes in becoming a full gown werewolf.

Supposedly ‘going country’ for the initial shape shift, is supposed to ease the werewolf into being. You know, let them get the scent of open spaces, mountains and dirt and forests and other animals. That kind of thing. That’s how I ended up in Wisconsin and in the sights of the Lycan who would hunt me down for mere amusement.

The hunting party, my father and I would discover later on, had a regular little game for werewolves like me.

Once they’d managed to identify a werewolf, They would make it run through unfamiliar woods, that they themselves knew like the back of their hand. Wounding it repeatedly with silver coated buckshot. So they could take the intended target down. Then they would capture the injured werewolf. Always an inexperienced, young wolf, who would fall more easily then an older full grown werewolf. They would remove the buckshot, allowing the werewolf to shape shift back to human form. Then when they saw who their human form was, they would torture the victim again.

They had me for  hours before my father caught up to the hunting party.
Apparently, in their warped world, that’s a new record.

Before the Breukelen Alpha came along, they’d never gotten caught in the act.


I am

May 3, 2010
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Ever wanted to turn the tables on someone?
Have a do-over on your terms? Well, I believe, if you ever get the second chance, you should take the shot.
Literally.

Only I don’t use guns or weapons. I don’t need to.
I am a werewolf. Altijd.
I am the weapon.

When the scent of The Hunter came to me, it was like a burst of recoiling terror in the pit of my stomach. Made my insides clutch as my breath froze me. But this was quickly replaced by steely anger, that was so red hot, it burned me from the insides out. Had to remind myself, I’m not fourteen anymore and to breathe. Slowly.

This is my life. The Hunter just made a massive mistake in coming here. Re-entering my life.

I moved with stealth to fall in behind my prey.
The time had come to go hunting again.
This time, on my turf, and my terms.
This time, I’m the hunter.
My prey doesn’t have a clue, what it’s really up against.
Hasn’t a clue I’m coming for it.
Hasn’t a clue about me.

This isn’t about revenge.

It’s about a fair fight and righting the wrong done to me.
Revenge would be about pain, hurt, torture and leaving a constant reminder with my prey, forever. Although I’m pretty sure there’s going to be some form of hurt involved in this reunion. I haven’t figured it all out, because I’m almost too scared and excited at the same time to think to rationally.

But there’s no mistaking that scent of ash, hay and wet fur tinged with copper. That’s the hunter who thought it’d be fun, to play with my life, without regard for anything about me or mine.

The Lycan that hunted me.

Apparently, I wasn’t even the first werewolf the Lycan has hunted.

I can track this hunter for; forever if need be. That’s how driving the force inside of me is with the scent of that time, riddling my brain. I wonder if anyone has ever tried a hunt in the urban jungles of New York before? If my prey runs, then that’s what I’ll turn this into.

All I have to do, is wait till the timing is right.


A werewolf at the movies

February 13, 2010
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Okay let’s get the warning out of the way now:

Even a man who is pure of heart
and says his prayers by night
may become a wolf
when the wolfbane blooms
in the autumn moon is bright.

That ought to cover it. Oh and *SPOLER*SPOILER*SPOILER* ahead.

This is a werewolf’s review of the 2010 Wolfman movie.

The new Wolfman movie is not so much a remake of the 1941 original with Lon Chaney Jnr (yes he that was immortalized in the Warren Levon song – Werewolves of London).

Rather it’s a bit of a re-telling.

Either way, it’s still pretty good.

A lot of the original elements are included in the movie.

Larry Talbot (Benicio Del Toro) returns to his father’s (Sir Anthony Hopkins) home – Talbolt Hall, upon the death of his brother. In doing so he meets Gwen Conliffe (Emily Blunt) the grieving fiancé of his brother. Larry vows to Gwen to find out all he can about the brutally savage and unexpected death / murder of his brother, that everyone in the village of Blackmoor, England says was at the hands of a lunatic or a beast.

In the process of investigating his brother’s death, Larry gets attacked by the beast and thus, becomes the wolfman, under full moonlight.

First of all, I have to say, the fight scene in the gypsy camp, well it kind of had me wound up, in a good way.

Cheering for the werewolf. And to say I got…how shall I put this? Excited?

When the werewolf’s claw, was shown straight through the mouth of a victim, was a major turn on and victory for the werewolf within and onscreen.

I say that it was a victory because, it’s good to see a serious werewolf depiction on screen. A hardcore one you know? None of this light and fluffy, teenage twilight, emo stuff. And none of this poorly produced CGI crap, like in Underworld Rise of the Lycans.

This is the crux of being a beast as any were-creature might tell you.

It’s a duality you struggle with and eventually something’s got to give. Loss of control is usually the element depicted in movies. In the case of the wolfman, I don’t think it’s a loss of control. Poor Larry Talbot isn’t even aware of what has happened to him truly until it’s too late, a sentiment shared with the original movie.

But there is no one to school him or really help him better the wolfman, or understand the wolfman’s needs. So the wolfman has all the instincts of the wolf and hunter thrust upon him. Which once you survive the trauma of the initial attack that made him (a Lycan) and then the shape shift that he goes through, is to be expected.

As his father, Sir John Talbot says to him that is only rules that separate them from being beasts. And he should know.

The urge to hunt and seek prey and blood, resides in all predatory animals.

For a human to carry that, it must like be admitting acceptance to those parts of the soul that make some humans killers rather than all of us. It’s something that just can’t be culled out. Biological make up is what it is, it’s part of the pattern of being something you’re not normally.

In Larry’s case perhaps, of something he’s not meant to be.

He becomes the wolfman (and the make up is BRILLANT) and still retains the semblance of man or human by running around his bloody and torn clothes. Hence the title – WolfMAN not WereWOLF. He’s a humanoid wolf figure who can also run around on all fours when required, like a wolf. So it’s a mixture of beast and man combined.

The Wolfman incorporates elements of the duality in that sense. But it never seeks to struggle or understand either side of it. It’s purely black and white.

Larry wakes up a man in bedraggled clothing with blood on his face and hands, and he roams the forests of Blackmoor as Wolfman, only seeking to kill, with no true reasoning behind it. There is no pattern in his victims, there is no reason given as to why, other than, the power of the full moon.

Yes, the moon is powerful to us werewolves. Of that there is no doubt. But we’ve come along way from being without all control or thought. Which is only glimpsed at the end of the wolfman movie when Gwen is being pursed by the Wolfman and begging it, by calling it Larry to not kill her.

The duality and intricacies of the Wolfman are not the true story here in this film. Which is a shame. There’s far more of a psychological element argued and gone over, in the original 1941 black and white film.

The gore in the film, is gory and I loved it. It’s a very pretty gothic film with some seriously great, iconic images in it. I think that’s why I liked it so much. That and furry Benicio. Mmmm.

And I do have to say, that watching Benicio as the Wolfman turned me on, a hell of a lot more than watching him as the simpering, reserved, held back in his place, Larry Talbot to his exasperating father, Sir John.

This smack down, drag ‘em out, knockout fight between elder and younger Talbot is one that will have kids everywhere who’ve ever held a little bit of animosity towards their parents, cheering on. He had it coming.

But which one?

I’m also impressed that the word werewolf was only used twice or so in the film but the references to Lycanthropy – being bit by a werewolf were far stronger, since essentially that is what really happened to Larry Talbot .

The wolfman is a lycan, so there are differences between these two beasts. In why he was so mindless and after bloodshed. As a Lycan, he’s bound to feel a reoccurring sense of rage and bloodshed. It’s quite common for those with Lycanthropy, to act this way.

Larry’s wolfman is not a true werewolf.

I have to say that Benicio makes a great Wolfman. Therefore, I’m happy to honorary baptize him a werewolf in my eyes. You can howl at the Brooklyn moon with me anytime Benicio. ANYTIME. Just say the word.

What’s the word?

Wolfman.
Of course.


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