Yikes! Werewolves are living amongst us in this six-episode comedy/drama from writer/director Abe Forsythe, and that’s just the opening premise; there’s tonnes more idiocies to be piled up before Wolf Like Me comes to an uncertain ending. With each episode having the length of a sitcom, this feels like a feature film divided into in six parts, offering little more than one extended scene at a time to move the action forwards.
Josh Gad plays Gary, a single-dad and widower in Adelaide who is struggling to connect with his daughter Emma, who is just 11; a route forward arrives in the form of Mary (Isla Fisher), a wild-haired journalist who crashes into their car in the first episode. Gary fancies Mary, and the feeling may be mutual, but Mary has a substantial skeleton in her closet; she’s a werewolf, and that’s something of a deal-breaker in the Australian dating scene. Worse still. Mary’s diet of chickens, goats and unsuspecting Italian families isn’t enough to keep her full, and if she gets pregnant, she’s got plans involving eating her own young…
Wolf Like Me is a slick show, and there’s something to be exhumed from the metaphor created by linking menstruation to lycanthropy. But Forsythe takes forever to get to the point, and once it comes, a couple of passing bad guys have to be chucked into the narrative to enable Mary’s instinct to protect Gary’s family make sense. While Gad and Fisher are lively, unconventional performers, neither of them convince as a couple struggling to find purchase in a world where supernatural forces disrupt their goal of domestic ennui.
Wolf Like Me is watchable enough, but it also feels like a busted pilot from the get-go; even the Twilight films managed to make something more of dressing up ancient myths in modern day stylings. Perhaps something closer to John Landis’ An American Werewolf in London was intended; Wolf Like Me aims high, but ends up howling at the moon with some deeply implausible parental angst.