RIP, Nipples the Cat
a kindly review of WolfCop
by David Clemmer
So-bad-it’s-good movies never have resonated with me unless there was a guy sitting with his two robots at the bottom of the screen, but I’ve always wanted that resonance. I see movie posters of things so high-concept and schlocky that I want to see them, but I rarely ever do. When WolfCop popped up ‘Popular on Netflix,’ I added it to my list immediately but thought I’d never watch it.
Then, like a wolf penis growing through a human penis, the desire to watch something bad burst through my penis. Head. My head-head, not my… Where’s the RESTART button on this review?
I guess we should talk about the wolf penis in the room.
Okay, this is, like, the eighty-thousandth werewolf movie, and the eighty-millionth werewolf story of any kind, so, okay, like… I guess I get it. Every time (even in this movie), you have the shot where you’re looking up the spine of the guy and then the skin pulls away and you see the soggy, mucusy creature beneath. That’s such a common person-turns-into-non-person thing that we are probably not excited by that anymore. Back in 1953 or whenever, audiences would quail and hurl and faint at the sight of a special effect of a man transforming into a werewolf. And nowadays we see someone’s mouth sewed to another person’s anus and we’re like, ‘Huh. I have accepted this information and I feel an emotion now. Proceed.’
That was not my reaction when WolfCop’s alter ego Deputy Sheriff Lou Garou is drunk and peeing in a urinal and he sees blood, panics, and proceeds to watch (read: we proceed to watch) his dick bloat, rip open, and become a giant hairy wolfcock.
Just…absorb that for a moment.
This kind of juvenile humor is a recurring thing throughout the movie for no real purpose. One of the first shots we see post-credits is a graffiti artist spray painting some boobs on a wall, which aren’t painted in any grotesque or shocking way or anything, but which look like a curvy-bottomed W with a dot on each side. You know, like what you’d find scribbled on a middle school boy’s Pee Chee folder. (Okay, seriously guys, do they still make Pee Chee folders? Did I just age myself?)
The placing of this work of art is in an introductory montage about how bad this town has gotten. Oh yeah. This is bad. People are drawing double-u boobs on buildings in a deserted back alley. Call the National Guard, am I right? But anyway, there are quick little tidbits of juvenile humor dabbled throughout: a random shot of an extra in a bar is accompanied by a fart noise, Lou finds a porn magazine (oh, so this movie takes place in 1991?) in the woods called BOOBER, and there’s a ‘missing’ poster for a cat named Nipples.
Aside from these nuggets of potty-humor, the rest of the humor in this movie is fairly stale. The comic relief character is that drunk guy who vaulted onto the stage at a stand-up comedy open mic and talked about, ‘Man, like…why’s your microwave gotta beep at you when your food is done? What are you, like…What is it, like… Does the microwave think it’s your watch? Because, like, your watch beeps at you? Like, fuckin, isn’t it weird, like, that no one has watches anymore because of, like, phones? Fuckin that’s hilarious to me.’ Looks down. Stares at feet. Shakes head. Sniffs. ‘Fuck.’
This isn’t to say that the movie isn’t without its excitement. There are some hilarious one-liners and the action scenes are pretty decent, gory, and also hilarious at times. I won’t spoil it, but WolfCop raids…I actually didn’t figure out what it was; a biker bar? Maybe? I’ll let you experience that bit of magic.
The structure of the movie was the surprising turn for me, because there’s only so much dick-joke-fart-noise-haha I can take. First, the tension of the plot is not centered around the werewolf itself, but rather around a greater threat to the townspeople. I found that interesting, and also found it easy to accept the werewolf as the hero. The filmmakers didn’t waste time on anything, built everything up to the big werewolf reveal properly, and actually told a decent yet fairly basic story. The so-bad-it’s-good movies I’ve watched have almost all been paced horribly with an hourlong buildup to a wheezing, lackluster payoff, whereas this chugs along and reaches some pretty exciting points.
But the wolf penis in the room is that this is a movie called WolfCop, features a WolfCop, and has the cast and editor that you’d expect to work on a film called WolfCop. Standardly, it isn’t good. Some of the cast are ineligible for community theater, while others are merely passable, and there are some obscured moments wherein I had little idea where we were, why, or with whom.
Ultimately I think WolfCop didn’t go far enough. I’m a little weary of self-aware and/or over-the-top parodies or genre love-letters, but we could have used more wolfcocks, face-rippings, and gratuitous gun wounds. Maybe in the promised sequel.
If you like gore and violence and one-liners and Top Gunesque sex scenes with ’80s-like love songs playing in entirety, and you like pointedly bad movies, WolfCop is a good choice.
4.5/10 opportunities for wolf puns
5/12 months subscription to Boober Magazine
0/1 chugged fifth of whiskey