I was six years old when I saw American Werewolf In London

I could have been about 6 years old when I bought or was given a book called “Tricks of the Trade”. This was a massive hard-back book (to a 6 year old) that was filled with pictures and write-ups, chronicling the most prominent advancements in movie making history, right up until the latter half of the twentieth century. The subjects in the book covered industrial light and magic, puppetry, movie make-up FX and stunt work: and how these and many feats were achieved. It highlighted the string work of Superman, the matt pass and motion camera movement of the meridian falcon from Star Wars to the ingenuity of the shark in Jaws.

What caught my eye however was the movie make-up part. There was the wolf head coming out of the man’s face in Company of Wolves, the zombies of the various “living dead” movies, and all those other movie-cousins that followed into the world of gore-flicks.

I focused on one piece about American Werewolf in London. In particular, the Rick Baker practical make-up magic that was the full body werewolf transformation.

I studied the book, and as a 6 year old under strict rules that prohibited me from watching material, far above my age and station, I felt the hunger. The gore in the book never bothered me. Having already seen Poltergeist, and a person being perforated with rapid gun fire in Robocop, I really wanted American Werewolf in London to be my next big cinematic experience. As for the gore itself, I knew what I was getting into: a lot of gloop, latex, fake blood, mechanical engineering etc… plus, all this stuff was beyond the realms of reality. It was gore-ifically wonderful, and I wanted to see it for myself.

Having memorised my Fathers video collection — which were organised in an elegant library of numbered volumes — I knew he had American Werewolf in there. I knew the number, even knew where it was positioned on the tape. Yes, I was that kind of child who obsessively took notice of little details but couldn’t hold a phone number, nor could I remember a birthday without writing it down.

I asked the all important question.

‘Dad, can I watch American Werewolf in London?’ I paused. ‘It’s on tape number 8.’

I don’t exactly remember his reaction, but I don’t think it took him many moments to give the appropriate answer for a 6 year old asking to watch an 18 certificate movie.

‘No, you’re too young.’ Would have been the — no argument — answer, and no discussion was needed. I don’t think I asked again for I knew I would watch it eventually. I was a sneaky kid.’

I remember I used to visit my Dad, once a fortnight at weekends. He only had a one bedroom flat at the time, and I slept on one of those folding beds that creaked with every twist or turn. Thankfully, my Dad slept solidly and I was able to sneak down, early enough Saturday morning without waking him.

Six am in the morning on Saturdays were make for early risers like me. The cartoons were often those from other countries — and too good for those who watched the vanilla, pedestrian cartoons that are to this day only remembered by their theme tune. Oh no, Saturday morning was reserved for the thinking man’s cartoon. On this particular morning, I wasn’t thinking Ulysses 31, or Mysterious Cities of Gold, I was thinking, the John Landis 1982 classic horror comedy, “American Werewolf in London.”

I raced through it with the fast forward button, stopping it when I saw something gruesome; I knew I had to take a peek, see what it was… and in the back of my mind, I remember thinking, glue, paint, latex… its not real… and I believed it, even though I couldn’t watch it for very long. It was made to look pretty darn real, and the music and editing made it all the more frightening. Still in the back of my mind, I knew it was fake. I knew it took skill to pull off.

Soon enough, Jack — the dead friend — made his first appearance, very fleshed out, literally, but I remember seeing that the pieces of ripped off face were all wobbly, like plastic and seemed to make his face bigger, somewhat lumpy.

I kept my ear out for movement upstairs as I skipped through, waiting to see the transformation. I saw something very interesting to do with our protagonist, David and the female nurse, played by Jenny Agutter, both naked, in the shower, together, but seeing that it wasn’t in the “Tricks of the Trade” book I moved on.

Finally, I heard Bad Moon Rising, which was referenced in the book. I turned the sound down. I didn’t want to give the game away before seeing what I came down for in the first place. I had the book open on the carpet in front of me, and I watched, quite soberly, without fear as the different stages of werewolf transformation took place. It was magic, but I was looking at it from the other side. In that moment, I knew that each cut away was a different setup, maybe even a different day. I knew it had taken weeks to perfect the stretching of the hands, the breaking out of the back legs, and the forcing of material to create the snout and fangs, and not always did it work out right, but the final cut of the movie, I was amazed. What’s more, I felt good knowing it was just make-up.

From that moment, I rewound the tape, put it back into case number 8, and switched to cartoons. In my mind I was excited about the process of movie making.

What I do not know however is why I didn’t get into the make-up artist side of things. I guess not having the materials in your own home, and most of that stuff was for eating! Maybe it just never occurred to me that I could do this, after all, it came from a world far away from the quaint countryside where I grew up.

What this did was put me in a place of “wanting” to know all about the production side of movie making. I became fascinated by actors, directors, writers, and I read-up on as much as I could. Never am I simply content to just watch a movie and just leave it at that. I learnt through acting classes, through film-classes; all those assignments in media production courses that made you think about the mechanics, the construct, and the deliberate deception of creative motion picture art.

From that idea, came also, a yearning to tell stories.

A need to write.

An American Werewolf in London was magnificent an experience back then, and it is just as fascinating now. Of course, with the dawn of the information and, digital age, most artists put out behind the scenes material on collector’s edition Blu Rays and DVDs. Audio commentaries and podcasts are abundant, detailing craft in inexhaustible detail.

In a way, for people like me, it’s a great thing to get an insider glimpse of the creative process. Back in the 90’s we pretty much figured things out on our own. If it hadn’t been for a special selection of books, such as “Tricks of the Trade”, I would never have even cared about the skill, the craft and the teamwork that had to all come together to have that werewolf come to life on the silver screen.

PODCAST: For more on this movie and the magic of movie make-up, please listen to my Headline Podcast episode with Denver Robbins.

ORIGINAL AUDIO PRESENTATION OF THIS BLOG: This is a re-edit of a previous article written back in 2010, existing only as an audio prsentation.

- Stephen Radford.