Writer-director-editor Neil Marshall's Dog Soldiers is all bark and bite, bellowing and blood-letting. Werewolves are on the rampage in the Scottish Highlands. The trick this time is that they run into a platoon of soldiers on manoeuvres. Unfortunately army issue doesn't include silver bullets.
For aficionados of lycanthropes, the movie will have its moments, though the wolves are glimpsed usually in part or in silhouette, no doubt for reasons of economy rather than suspense - which also rules out any grandiose man-wolf transformations, here strictly limited to claw-and-incisor sprouting. In compensation, guts spill profusely, fresh intestines stick to army boots like cow pats, and one eviscerated squaddie runs around hugging what looks like a red cushion to his midriff. (Marshall learned his movie trade in make-up and special effects.)
Sean Pertwee, Kevin McKidd and Liam Cunningham get holed up in the woodcutter's cottage that doubles as the wolves' pied-à-terre for human habitation. The siege of this country refuge in Dog Soldiers plays with the non-stop ferocity of the place in Straw Dogs. The wolves don't look very vulpine, more like bifurcated demons, but they come on strong even through the letter box.
The besieged soldiery, along with "environmental researcher" Megan (Emma Cleasby) who's sharing the ordeal with the boys, fall back on collecting the cutlery to melt down for ammunition. Useless. Someone says: "No self-respecting werewolves would keep anything silver in the house."
Movie buffs should dig all the film quotes: appreciation of Michelangelo Antonioni has even spread to other ranks, as one infantryman lobs a high-explosive grenade with a cry of "Zabriskie Point". If you wait for the end credits to scroll up, you're sure of a big surprise. This neck of the woods was shot in the fiscal wilds of Luxembourg - presumably the tax man takes a smaller bite out of you there than the British predators.
Dog Soldiers
Cert: 15
