Wolf, a 1994 werewolf movie directed by Mike Nichols, is something of a curate’s egg. Overall it is rather underwhelming, and fails to hold together, but the parts that are good are just as enjoyable as the parts that are bad are not. One cannot fault its cast, which includes Jack Nicholson, Michelle Pfeiffer, James Spader, and Christopher Plummer, nor can one fault its creative intentions. Ultimately the best one can say of the film is that those involved tried their best, but that it simply didn’t work out.

Nicholson plays book editor Will Randall, who gets bitten by a wolf while travelling through Vermont. During the day Randall struggles to retain his job in the wake of a corporate takeover. At night he slowly succumbs to the pull of the full moon and begins to transform into the titular beast.

Werewolf movies are hard. It is most evident when you compare them to films about vampires, which are far more common and typically more successful at the box office. A large part of that seems to be aesthetic: vampires bring with them a sex appeal that is far more difficult with werewolves. Certainly it is difficult for Wolf to sustain any strong sense of integrity once Jack Nicholson is made-up with extra hair and Wolverine sideburns. The best films in this particular genre tend to succeed on the back of innovative or high quality visual effects, and Wolf simply fails to compete on that level. It does not even seem to be interested in trying.

Instead the film (screenplay by Wesley Strick, Jim Harrison, and an uncredited Elaine May) uses the werewolf myth to satirise the “dog-eat-dog” environment of corporate politics. Will’s career is jeopardised by an ambitious employee (James Spader) aiming to steal his job, and the competitive fight to maintain territory is rendered in animalistic ways. It is an approach that works well for the film’s first half, but falls to the side as it nears its clumsy and cliche-ridden climax. The second half also fails Pfeiffer’s character, who spends the earlier scenes in a lively sort of verbal sparring with Will only to collapse into a run-of-the-mill romance later on. With 21 years separating the lead actors’ ages, it feels almost entirely unconvincing.

Likewise Ennio Morricone’s orchestral score collapses as the film progresses, shifting from atmospheric melodies and instrumentation to a weirdly inappropriate sort of saxophone-heavy jazz.

Wolf is an interesting film for sure, but it is sadly more of an interesting failure than any kind of creative success. With a more sustained focus on the office politics and less time wasted on stereotypical horror tropes and romance, it might have been more accomplished. It is a bold swing by director Mike Nichols, but also an undeniable miss.