When did werewolves get fluffy?

I love werewolves. To me, they're the epitome of cool. Whether you're watching Lon Chaney, Jr. glue some yak hair on his face back in the 30's or Dee Wallace animatronically wolfing out during a newscast in The Howling, there's something about the primordial draw of getting in touch with your animal side. In short, it's sexy. I enjoy writing about them in stories because they are interesting - full of urges and conflicts.

Werewolves have the upper hand when it comes to charming the opposite sex. Lon Chaney, Jr. wasn't a great actor, and he was a bit on the chunky side. But, he always got the girl - Dracula couldn't, Frankenstein's monster couldn't, but good ol' Larry Talbot the tortured werewolf always got the girl.

Larry Talbot: "Oh, Mary, you don't understand. Tonight, the full moon will come out, and I will become a hideous monster. I'm afraid I might hurt you."

Mary: "Oh, Larry, you poor dear. I don't care if you do rip out my throat. I don't even care that you're fat and homely. Kiss me, you fool."

Those 30s and 40s werewolf movies taught us nerds that no matter how hideous we might be, even if we're Lon Chaney Jr. ugly, we have a chance. Granted, we have to be bitten by a werewolf first and become a hideous monster once a month, but there's still a chance.

So, why, oh why, has Hollywood decided to make them fluffy? The first one I saw was when my wife forced me to watch a Twilight movie. That's where I learned the true meaning of horror, my friends. No conflict, no fighting against their inner demons, just one second: greasy teen, the next: Disney-esque fluffy, giant cartoon wolf. Sigh. Where are you, Lon Chaney, Jr? Larry Talbot is our only hope.

Now, I'm not going to make any judgments on Stephenie Meyer - she's wildly successful, sucking down millions from all the thirty year old YA readers out there. (Yeah, I said it - go ahead, pick the time and place. You bring your wolves, I'll bring mine, and you can take back the remains of your pack in a garbage bag in the back of the minivan. That's right, bring it!)

Any self respecting werewolf would have kicked sparkly vampire boy's ass. Just saying.

With enough therapy, I could probably reach some peace with fluffy werewolves. It wouldn't be a lasting peace, but I could learn to coexist with this fluffy world.

The only problem is: Twilight is over, and - Hollywood - just - keeps - making - them - fluffy!

Last night, my wife and I started watching the series Hemlock Grove on Netflix. First few episodes were creepy, but then comes the big scene where the greasy, teenage, tortured gypsy kid turns into a werewolf on camera for the first time.

The 'greasy teenage' setup should have been enough foreshadowing for me, but I'm an optimist.

The change started out with cracking bones and tortured screams (okay, this looks promising). Then the kid's eyeballs pop out and roll on the ground. You can see some wicked looking wolf eyes growing in to replace them (yowza! That's a new one!) Finally, the wolf tears free of the kid's skin, and... hello, fluffy. The werewolf is just a fluffy wolf, heck, I think they styled its fur. No, no, no, no. The horror, the horror of it all.

Dee Wallace, please come show them what a werewolf looks like, I'm begging you. I would even settle for Sybil Danning from Howling III: Your Sister's a Werewolf - at least she tried.

If anyone in Hollywood is listening: please go talk to John Landis and watch a few Universal horror films. Just because Stephenie Meyer sold eight gazillion books with fluffy werewolves, it doesn't mean they all need to be fluffy. Nerds everywhere will be in your debt.

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