While certainly entertaining, I’m baffled that some people hold Joe Dante’s film in the same high regard as John Landis’ An American Werewolf in London, or contend that the make up and transformation sequences are in any way comporable. For me, Landis’ film is such an incredible film on so many levels that I was never going to let something so similar in tone or subject matter come close to it, perhaps, but there is really no comparison. Despite all that, Dante delivers an entertaining enough slice of knowing tongue-in-cheek horror in The Howling, with Dee Wallace on good form as the TV reporter who goes into exile after being attacked by a serial killer, only to find out her remote rehab enclave is in fact a reclusive home for werewolves. Patrick Macnee is the psychiatrist-turned-ringleader, while Christopher Stone plays Wallace’s douchebag husband. There’s a memorable turn from Elisabeth Brooks as a seductive temptress, but at the end of the day this very much second tier stuff.