The best thing that can be said about Cursed is that it’s scarier than Teen Wolf Too. The unkindest thing, unfortunately, is that it’s not nearly as terrifying as Michael J. Fox’s original Teen Wolf. Concocted without an ounce of inspiration by Scream masterminds Wes Craven and Kevin Williamson, this fright-free horror flick concerns a sister and brother—Christina Ricci’s plain Ellie and Jesse Eisenberg’s dorky Jimmy—who are bitten by a werewolf and, after coming to grips with their, ahem, hairy situation, race to undo the curse by killing the big, bad chief wolfman. Puzzlingly, the film doesn’t even seem to be about werewolves half the time—Ellie, with pale skin, neck-biting fantasies, and an all-black ensemble, is more like a vampire, whereas Jimmy’s leaping ability and pummeling of school bullies in front of his dream girl recalls Spider-Man. Worse, though, is the film’s utter indifference toward shocks, gore, or concealing the main monster’s true identity. Joshua Jackson is transparent as Ricci’s mysterious boyfriend Jake, a hunk putting the finishing touches on his horror movie-inspired nightclub, and Judy Greer continues working on her tired mega-bitch routine as beastly celebrity publicist Joanie. If Craven and Williamson envisioned Joanie as part of a larger satire about bloodthirsty Hollywood, however, such intentions are drowned out by the rabid roars of the film’s horrid CGI creature (which, unbelievably, gives one character the finger). People fly through the air at an alarming rate, and Shannon Elizabeth gets the (dis)honor of perishing during the filmmakers’ trademark intro death scene. Yet it’s Williamson’s script—bursting with gems like, “Everybody’s cursed, Jimmy…It’s called life”—that deserves to be taken out back and shot. Unlike I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Ginger Snaps, and countless werewolf movies in between, Cursed only briefly alludes to any lycanthropy-as-puberty subtext—Jimmy’s feral condition is equated to his homophobic tormentor’s repressed inner queer—while lavishing baffling attention on cameos by Lance Bass, Craig Kilborn, and Scott Baio. And even then, the film is too inept to humorously capitalize on the fact that the Happy Days heartthrob’s PR flack is named Joanie.
A spotless transfer all-around (the sterling silver is sterling and Christina Ricci's hair is blacker than black), but the film is still ugly as sin. Dialogue is clear and the werewolf attacks are loud enough to disguise the fact that the surround work isn't altogether impressive.
On "Behind the Fangs: The Making of Cursed," the cast and crew keep things real by saying that the film was "fun" to make, and save for one actor who extols the script's postmodern vibe (which, by the way, is completely nil), no one (thank God!) calls Cursed an existential comedy or human noir. Equally unpretentious are featurettes devoted to the film's (lame) special effects ("The Cursed Effects") and editing ("Creature Editing 101"). Rounding out the disc is the dorky but "fun" mini-doc "Becoming a Werewolf" directed by Jesse Eisenberg, and trailers for Sin City, Scary Movie 3.5, Prozac Nation, Hostage, and Dracula III: Legacy.
This may not be saying much but Wes Craven has not only made worse films but he's also made ones where the actors didn't look as if they were having as much fun as Christina Ricci and Co. had here.