A small town is home to werewolves and the newly arrived alcoholic doctor and his family are going to have to deal with this shit while performing at a level of competence somewhere below pathetic. The doctor moved his family to the nowhere location after having a revelation at his big city hospital (green-screened in) and his wife resents the hell out of him for taking her to the ass-end of America. She’s not ashamed to drag his ass down in front of their teenage sons either. Some old friend of the family who looks like he may have provided the dong in some Barely Legal volumes wants his dad to start going to AA meetings. The son listens to music and complains about his father not loving him. That’s fine, the derpy neighbor girl seems interested in his lanky ass for some reason. If family melodrama doesn’t do anything for ya… well, I’ve got some bad news. Piss-poor special effects offer the only break to tedium and they don’t hit nearly enough. The younger son gets bit during a graveyard romp with that gothy neighbor chick and begins to transform into a werewolf. He grows fangs while butt-rock plays. Two siblings arrive searching for their father who went missing in the woods around the mountain town and it turns out the doctor knew the man. The bartender who looks like Bret Hart during his WrestleMania match with Vince McMahon has their father’s medallion so the siblings know immediately that something is rotten in the town. They chase the man into a basement and they corner him which forces him to talk like he’s from Jersey and admit the father is dead and the secret ingredient to the meat they just ate. Jersey Bret Hart transforms and kills the brother before making his hasty exit. We’re thirty minutes in and I already wish this shit was over. There’s benevolent werewolves and parental issues when it comes to dealing with your monster teenager… literally. The doctor thinks he’s just dreaming about all the monstrous nonsense and water tainted with silver is shown to control the hairy transformations. Dialogue stretches beyond a reasonable breaking point, scenes join dialogue in dragging the viewer to the breaking point, comedy stumbles before dying a quick death, audio issues persist, neck tattoos are overlayed on characters because I guess nobody had a marker, the werewolf costumes are charmingly all levels of ass, fight choreography should be taught in classes on how to not choreograph a fight, the special effects belong on fire in a dumpster, characters have all the charm of an agitated Piers Morgan (I guess that’s just Piers Morgan), a two-hundred-year-old witch who looks like multiple porn stars from New York melted into one person tells the history of the werewolf population, the world’s worst transformation plays out before our eyes, boring werewolf politics are talked about, more boring werewolf politics are discussed and then the werewolf politics come to a head and shit gets taken care of with a minimal cast and no budget for action set pieces. There’s alot of stank on this film and some of that stank is dementedly charming but most of it will try your patience and irritate you to no end. It’s like finding a used condom in your hamburger and deciding to just eat around it.
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