MovieMartyr.com - Brotherhood of the Wolf

A supremely silly, blood soaked, action flick set in 18th century France, Christophe Gans’ Brotherhood of the Wolf manages to stir up interest until it becomes apparent that the multitude of excesses that the film trots out will end up as overkill. Things begin in this variation of the Beowulf myth as what feels like a do-over of John McTeirnan’s The Thirteenth Warrior as our heroes chase a giant wolf that’s eating villagers (think Princess Mononoke), but it’s not long before we’re treated to some Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon-style fight scenes (edited as frantically as anything in Moulin Rogue!). The film definitely feels like a pastiche of many films that have come before, but its elements don’t come together as well as you’d hope.

Occasionally, the film feels quite stylish, but more often the overdirection makes things feel garish. If there’s such a thing as too much cinematography, this film is guilty. Every image in the film is made to look beautiful and colorful whether it’s the sunset receding into the skyline or a victim of the beast as she’s getting her brains bashed against a rock. As a result, things become a bit headache inducing, and there are few scenes that have much lasting visual impact since everything is gorgeous. The overwrought frenzy’s always on, even when there’s nothing much happening on screen.

The visuals aren’t the film’s only excess, however. Certainly the cartoonish and loud sound effects make us understand explicitly where every stick thwacks every bad guy. The editing choices don’t feel that sound either. Although it’s impressive the first time Gans slows down or stops the film speed to extend a moment, it becomes wearying by the end of the film’s far too long two and a half hour running time. Some of the fades are also silly, especially one that creates a visual match between a prostitute’s breasts and some rolling hills.

This is indeed a genre flick, and as such its attempts to infuse some originality into the proceedings are appreciated. Certainly, few swashbuckling films take advantage of this setting, and even if that setting results in anachronisms such as a kickboxing Indian, those sins are easily forgiven (the mysticism of the Indian versus the evils of the white man, less so). The exaggerated and grotesque nature of the violence is certainly visceral and would be far more enjoyable if we were not subjected to so much of it. The film’s last act is hopeless, however, so just as the plot begins to really frustrate us the other excesses of the film are at their most annoying. Still, as much as the camera’s twists and spins tart the film up, the fight scenes show us that, despite the film’s foreign language, butt-kicking is universal.

**1/2

01-12-02

Jeremy Heilman