When he realizes that he has killed a man instead of a wolf, he is again stricken with horrible guilt, as we all would be. He is even guilty for a crime which he thinks he "may" commit (harming the woman) and he desperatly tries to avert that disaster before it happens.
I get the feeling that he would have welcomed his own death, even at the hands of his father, just to free him from the guilt.
Great observation, Betcinda.
ReplyDeleteThe script and dialouge is psychologically-astute which may be the reason it was such a big hit. Lon Chaney's sympathetic depictation of a man conflicted between his human and animal nature.
Wait, wait....I can feel Freud bubbling up into this. The idea of the Id overpowering the Superego is a scary propostition.
Here is a 1941 not so glowing review of The Wolf Man from the New York Times:
ReplyDeleteUniversal, which must have a veritable menagerie of mythological monsters, all with an eye on stardom and a five-year contract, is now sponsoring the debut of its latest pride and joy, "The Wolf Man" at the Rialto. Perhaps in deference to a Grade-B budget it has tried to make a little go a long way, and it has concealed most of that little in a deep layer of fog. And out of that fog, from time to time, Lon Chaney Jr. appears vaguely, bays hungrily, and skips back into mufti. Offhand, though we never did get a really good look, we'd say that most of the budget was spent on Mr. Chaney's face, which is rather terrifying, resembling as it does a sort of Mr. Hyde badly in need of a shave. Privately, and on the evidence here offered, we still suspect that the werewolf is just a myth.
Well, so for that matter is Santa Claus—though this is no time to be saying it. But the fact is that nobody is going to go on believing in werewolves or Santa Clauses if the custodians of these legends don't tell them with a more convincing imaginative touch. And that is precisely where the wolf man is left without a paw to stand on; without any build-up either by the scriptwriter or director, he is sent onstage, where he, looks a lot less terrifying and not nearly as funny as Mr. Disney's big, bad wolf. Sharing his embarrassment
are Maria Ouspenshaya, Claude Rains, Bela Lugosi, Warren William, Ralph Bellamy and Evelyn Ankers—who under more nonchalant circumstances would be referred to as a "sterling" cast. Most of them look as though they wished they had a wolf-skin to jump into—any old wolf-skin, so long as it was anonymous.
I love the posts about Larry's guilt and deeper feelings. On a lighter note, what I found fascinating was the risque dialogue between Larry and Gwen. He is quite the lethario isn't he?
ReplyDeleteI find it distubring that a strange man approaches a woman and begins making remarks about seeing "earrings on her bedroom dressing table" and outlines everything in precise detail(stalker???).
Amazing how todays standards concerning what is considered "appropriate" seem more "restrictive" than those of 1941? lol