So, I liked the PMS werewolf flick, The Curse, but DIDN’T dig this fleshy romp about a horn’d up uber-hound, in the hulking form of CineSchlocker idol Kane Hodder, who’d stop ripping dozens of unsuspecting yayhoos to shreds if only Samarie Armstrong would willingly assume a certain position of the canine variety?
Well, no, it’s just not that great.
Even with that impromptu rooftop photo-op where two gals strip nekkid, slather themselves in grease paint and knot up in imitation of some kinky lycanthrope porn they spy in a dusty old book. Not even for Tippi Hedren‘s turn as a way, way long-in-the-tooth werewolf disguised as a plot-point spewing bag lady.
Heck, they couldn’t even settle on ONE climatic quip from little Jo Jo: "Well, if it isn’t the big, bad wolf!" — and (no, it doesn’t get better) — "Looks like some fleas are going to be looking for a new home tonight!"