Pardon the adverbs, but this 1981 film could be considered “humorously gross” or “grossly humorous.” Either way, An American Werewolf In London has more than enough gore and laughs to entertain during its 90+ minutes of run time. And now I find out, via research, that it is considered a cult classic?! Who knew! Geez, maybe I have some taste after all. (Naaah…)
The story: two wisecracking, backpacking college students, David (David Naughton) and Jack (a hilarious Griffin Dunne) 
are on holiday in England and are hiking through the moors. They stop at a pub, the Slaughtered Lamb, in a small village to get out of the rain and receive a cold reception from the barflies when they ask about a pentagram painted there. So out they go, back to the moors, where Jack is killed by a werewolf (it’s a full moon, after all). The creature mauls David and is killed by the barflies. Before passing out David sees a bloody, naked man on the ground alongside him.
Three weeks later David comes to in a London hospital, where he has been cared for by Dr. Hirsch and a nurse named Alex (Jenny Agutter). He has weird dreams about running through a forest, hunting and killing animals, and he’s also visited by the apparition of the mutilated Jack. He’s been bitten by a werewolf, Jack tells him, and at the next full moon, a few days hence, he will turn into a werewolf and begin murdering people. The only way out? David must kill himself, Jack informs him, to break the cycle. Yeah right, David says.
Nurse Alex has the hots for David, and when he’s released from the hospital she invites him to stay with her. They make 
love (a nicely done scene) to Van Morrison’s “Moondance” on the soundtrack, after which David receives another visit from the deteriorating Jack, who again urges him to take his own life.
The next evening, while alone in Alex’s flat, David transforms into a werewolf to the strains of Sam Cooke’s “Blue Moon.” He kills a subway commuter, some homeless men and a young couple before waking up the next day in the wolf’s pen at a zoo. Having no memory of what he’s done, he makes it back to Alex’s place.
Dr. Hirsch has been curious about David’s original injuries. He travels to the small village, where the barflies are still close-mouthed—all except one, who tells the incredulous Hirsch about David’s curse. The doctor returns to London and warns Alex to be careful about this relationship with someone he thinks might be a lunatic.
David and Alex go walking in London, and when David sees a headline about the murders he realizes that he is the killer. He tries to get himself arrested but fails. Leaving Alex, he runs into a porno theater, where the now totally rotted corpse of Jack greets him. David admits that Jack was right, and if he doesn’t feel guilty enough, Jack introduces him to the mutilated corpses of the folks he killed the night before. They all urge David to kill himself.
Jack is in the early stages of decomposition…
Spoiler Alert: night falls as Hirsch and Alex search for David. They learn of a disturbance in Piccadilly Square and hurry there. David, again a werewolf, bursts out of the porno theater and causes all sorts of mayhem. Soon the bobbies have him cornered. Alex tells them not to shoot, and she approaches the werewolf, telling him that she wants to help. With a spark of recognition David leaps at Alex, knowing the bobbies will blast away. They do, and moments later they’re stunned to see the bloodied body of a young man where the creature had been. Dang, the poor kid!
Hollywood runs in cycles (lunar?), and 1981 not only gave us An American Werewolf in London but also The Howling and Wolfen. What a vintage year for those of a lycanthropic bent! I’d forgotten about Wolfen, but a recent trip to New York City, which included a visit to Battery Park (where one scene was filmed), jogged my memory. That will be a definite future Guilty Pleasure. But for now, one werewolf at a time. An American Werewolf in London will crack you up and make you lose your lunch at the same time. Enjoy!
Glad you added this movie to your Guilty Pleasures list! Despite the gore, I always enjoyed this one. It was “refreshing” (pun intended) to see David Naughton in something besides a Dr. Pepper commercial.
As a side note: my husband was in London when this movie was playing in summer of 1981. He was there with two college buddies, all three guys Americans and in their early 20s. What better thing to do than go see American Werewolf in London at Picadilly Square, where it was playing at midnight? He said they had a great time until… they exited the theater and realized they had to walk through the very same, deserted square where they’d just seen a movie werewolf rip people apart. They made it back to the hotel safe, but their nerves were definitely worse for wear!
And what a great story your husband has to tell three decades later! Thanks for sharing it.
Honestly, Mike…the scariest thing about this movie is that I saw it in the theater when it was first released. Leave it to you to keep reminding me exactly how long in the tooth I am these days!
I was never as big a horror fan as most of my friends, but I really enjoyed “American Werewolf in London” (the sequel in Paris sucks…) because of its (at the time novel) intentional sense of humor about things. If aging memory still serves, it was the first “humorously gross” movie I ever saw.
While the special effects aren’t up to today’s standards, the increasingly decrepit specter of Jack still works and the porno theater scenes are hysterically absurd. I would agree that it’s 90+ minutes that are worth a first look (if that was before your time) or a fond revisit (if it isn’t).
What, you long in tooth?!? Hey, I saw Nosferatu the Vampyre in a movie theater–and that was a SILENT film!! 🙂 🙂
But you’re right, An American Werewolf in London is a gem.