Hunting with the Wolf: An Interview with Leigh Whannell
Photo: Universal Pictures
The full moon has risen.
When the Universal Monsters were in a state of disarray, thanks to the ill-fated Dark Universe, Leigh Whannell knew just what to do. The Australian-born horror maestro, strongly regarded for co-creating the Saw and Insidious franchises, did not adhere to the studio's action-heavy, interconnectivity mindset. Teaming up with influential producer Jason Blum, the pair produced an ingenious adaptation of The Invisible Man. The budget was lean and strayed from the fantastical as it placed H. G. Wells' creation in a modern context to tell a frightening fable of relationship abuse. It provided Universal with a clear blueprint for welcoming their famed icons into a new age.
The next character to receive this treatment is the Wolf Man, and following the previous triumph, Whannell has been brought back as the architect. Once again, he has applied a contemporary milieu, portraying his protagonist's descent into lycanthropy like the ravages of malady. Stuck in an isolated farmhouse, his wife and daughter must witness the person they cherish become someone utterly unrecognisable. It's another clever update to the material. Throughout, it is littered with horrifying shocks, but in a twisted way, the birth of the beast rings true to natures of our everyday life. All in all, it is further testament to Whannell's acumen as a frightener.
Returning home to promote the film, Whannell and I broke down how to craft an earned jump scare, his original hesitancy to do a second monster flick, and the pleasure cinema gives him that maths and science simply cannot. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
This story contains mild spoilers for the film Wolf Man.
CONNOR DALTON: A hot topic of discussion has been the design of your titular creature. How did you land on that look?
LEIGH WHANNELL: I always knew when I was writing that I wanted to do something a bit different, but you have to still give Wolf Man fans what they want. It's this fine line you're walking. I was researching a lot of facial disfigurements, skin diseases, leprosy — a lot of Google Images stuff that's not fun. Then, when I met up with Arjen Tuiten, who ended up being the makeup artist on the film, it was he and I who developed that look. He instantly understood what I was trying to do, and he built this model. When I saw the model, I was like, 'Woah.'
DALTON: This film diverts from what we're accustomed to in the werewolf canon, prominently in how you depict the transformation. It's a more prolonged, inventive metamorphosis that feels disease-like rather than supernatural. What was your process for determining each stage of Blake's mutation?
WHANNELL: It was really just the process of thinking it out. One of the things I love about screenwriting is there are no rules. I was never very good with anything that has fixed rules, like maths and science. You can't say that one plus one equals 148; there are rules to this stuff. But in screenwriting, one plus one can absolutely equal 148, and I love that aspect of it. So when it comes to calibrating a screenplay and figuring out where the changes should happen, it's just instinct. It's no more mysterious than that; it's like, 'I think I'm feeling this.' But you keep writing the movie. The writing isn't finished when you finish the screenplay. You keep writing it when you're shooting, and then you write the film again when you're editing. It's an ongoing process.
DALTON: Amid all the body horror, the step I found most disturbing was Blake no longer being able to speak or comprehend our language. I've never seen the erasure of humanity and change in perspective conveyed like that.
WHANNELL: I'm happy to hear you say that because, to me, that was also the scariest element. I've been involved with a lot of movies that were known for their gore. I co-created Saw (laughs), so I've done my fair share of gore and body horror. I love the tactile, practical effects, but to me, the scariest thing is the lack of communication because I can put myself in the shoes of that character. So that was something that was very early on. I was thinking about neurological diseases like Alzheimer's and dementia, where somebody you've known your whole life, who you have a collection of memories with, suddenly doesn't know who you are, and thinking about what that's like. I've never had anyone in my family, fortunately, suffer from Alzheimer's or anything like that, but you don't have to look far to find someone who has had to deal with that. That was the basis of it: trying to wrap that idea around the werewolf metaphor.
DALTON: There is also no shortage of scares. Some were so well-orchestrated that they made me appreciate the artistry of a jump scare. In other films, it's a cheap tactic. I've viewed too many where it's a colossal build-up and a loud noise, only to reveal a cat passing through.
WHANNELL: Yeah, the cat or the friend knocking on the door. The false scare is a tough one. I'm not a fan.
DALTON: But Wolf Man has intent. I can spot the various filmic facets utilised to properly amplify dread. Do you have a method to gaining what I call the earned jump scare?
WHANNELL: That's a great way of putting it: the earned jump scare. That is exactly how I approach it: have I earned this? To me, the true orchestration of a so-called jump scare or jolt — whatever you want to call it — is in the build-up. It's all in the build-up. If you don't have the build-up, it's nothing. It's just an orchestra sting, and I feel it's lazy. If I'm going to jolt the audience, I want it to be earned, so what I like to do is calculate beats. It's almost like music. Five beats could be too many, but three beats may be just right. The other good thing to do is subvert expectations. If the audience thinks you're going to go left, go right. If you're approaching a door, the audience is tense, thinking, 'What's behind the door?' You open the door, and there's nothing. Then you do it again. Eventually, you've trained the audience that nothing's going to happen, and then you hit 'em. There's an interesting musical approach to it, I think.
DALTON: When researching for this interview, I read that you initially declined to helm this project before your producer, Jason Blum, encouraged you to reconsider. Why did you rebuff the opportunity at first, and what was imparted to you that ultimately swung your decision?
WHANNELL: Well, in answer to your first question, it wasn't that I didn't believe in or didn't like the character of Wolf Man. I've grown up loving the Wolf Man. He's a staple of popular culture. It was more that I felt I had just done a monster movie, and I felt that doing another one so soon afterwards wouldn't be enough of a palette cleanser. I wanted to really go and do something completely different, like a science fiction film or a comedy. Then Jason incepted me, as you said. He was like, 'Well, just as an exercise, what would you do if you were doing it?' The thing that changed my mind initially was that: I started thinking about what I would do.
Also, Ryan Gosling was attached at the time. I'm a big fan of Ryan. However, the film stretched out over such a long period that we didn't end up doing it with Ryan. We got Christopher Abbott, who I think is absolutely Ryan's equal in terms of acting ability, charisma, and power. So it all worked out in the end, but that was definitely an attraction in the beginning, too.
DALTON: Well, this is a terrific reimagining, and I hope it's not your last Universal Monster endeavour. If not, I'd love to see you get that shot at the Green Hornet and Kato.
WHANNELL: Thank you. I love FilmInk. I’ve chatted to you guys for years, and I always enjoy doing interviews with FilmInk because you guys really do deep dives on movies and love movies. Green Hornet was … ugh, the one that got away. Every filmmaker has a few scripts in their draw that didn’t happen but they love. I did love that [script]. We’ll see; maybe Green Hornet will live (laughs).
This article was originally published by FilmInk