TEEN WOLF

by Kevin Koehler

Scott Howard (Michael J. Fox) sucks at basketball.  His high school team consists of similar social outcasts, humiliated both on and off the court; a fat team mate keeps his gym locker filled with cookies and deli meat.  Because he's fat.  Appropriately, the squad is named the Beavers.  Of all possible after-school activities, why the five-foot-nothing Scott has chosen the sport of giants is something of a mystery.  Masochism, perhaps, or simply the same willful ignorance of one's own talents that informs his pursuit of the prettiest girl in school (as dork heroes in teen films are want to do), with predictable results.  However, things are about to change for Scott and those hapless Beavers.

"I'm sick of it," he tells friend since childhood Lisa (Susan Ursitti).  "I'm sick of being so average."  Lisa, per custom, has an unrequited crush on Scott.  She's also brunette (read: plain) with the tomboy nickname of "Boof," so their inevitable third-act coupling will have to wait till after her school dance makeover in a strapless dress.

Scott's own makeover comes much earlier.  It seems Dad (James Hampton, The Longest Yard) has been keeping a secret, one that explains Scott's unsightly body hair, long fingernails, and newfound ability to hear dog whistles.   The Howard clan are werewolves; Scott is understandably distressed (aren't our teen years awkward enough?), but Dad advises him to look on the bright side.  "Being what we are is not without its problems.  But it's not all bad either."

What could have been an embarrassing lupine metamorphosis during one Beavers game turns fortuitous - included in the not-all-bad part is unrivaled awesomeness at basketball (also included: the powers of seduction and dance).  The initial shock of his classmates quickly gives way to acceptance, and further, idolatry (his opportunist buddy Stiles manufacturers t-shirts and bumper stickers emblazoned with his likeness).  People love this star athlete the wolf, certainly more than that painfully average Scott who sucks at basketball.  So what if he's a long-haired mystical being of ancient lore?

It might be interesting as satire of the no-questions-asked nature of athlete worship, but here things are played awkwardly superficial.  Sure, no one wants to look the gift horse of a successful basketball team in the mouth, but aren't the ramifications of a lycanthrope in their midst worthy of discussion (or even scientific inquiry)? Movie logic can only explain so much. Teen Wolf also begs the question of why being part wolf would improve your basketball (or seduction, or dancing) skills so dramatically.  It's a peculiar idea - most wolves I know are terrible at basketball (and seduction, and dancing), lacking the hand-eye coordination to make lay-ups, much less a free throw.

The "be yourself" message enforced by the ending likewise rings hollow.  Scott refuses to "wolf out" for the climactic basketball game (his on-court domination alienated teammates preferring he pass the ball once in a while); this is apparently a good thing.  Yet isn't the wolf part of who he is?  How does suppressing the wolf allow him to be himself, exactly?  Scott Howard is a werewolf - pretending otherwise is self-deception, not self-actualization.

Interesting footnote: The closing moments of Teen Wolf contain one of the more bizarre goofs in cinema.  Seconds before the final credits roll, Scott enters the bleachers to hug his father.  An extra stands behind them in a red sweater, Converse, and inexplicably, unbuttoned pants with underwear visible.  The extra hurries to fix their wardrobe malfunction but it is too late, the moment captured forever on celluloid.  I'm not sure how this all got past the editor, but the shot remains.

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