DOG SOLDIERS (2002) - (d) NEIL MARSHALL

When Oz stops and thinks about it, he really can't say that there are a plethora of lycanthrope flicks worthy of a six-pack rating. Let's see, there's the original Wolfman, The Howling, The Company of Wolves, and perhaps, Wolfen. That's about it for the classics. No, Ken Russell's Alternate States doesn't count: William Hurt turned into an ape, not a wolf, in that one. Yes, Ozzy has seen all the latest hairy beast movies, including the fitfully entertaining but dreadfully overhyped Ginger Snaps. He's down with all the horror happenings. Still, there ain't much good happening in the genre, wolfie or otherwise. So you can imagine Mr. Fide's surprise when he popped this one into the DVD player and, after little more than a half hour, found himself down to his last brew in the sixer. These were sixteen ouncers, too. Dog Soldiers is that good, which should come as little surprise to anyone lucky enough to catch The Descent at the multiplex, as said flick was easily the best outing of 2005. Curioser and curioser, Neil Marshall wrote and directed that film as well.

Dog Solders wastes little time getting started. Open with a hippy couple in the Scottish Highlands getting torn to shreds in their pup tent. Now cut to the following morning and a small platoon of British soldiers on wargame manuevers a few miles off. There's a bit of clever, manly chat to establish character, and then we stumble into the camp of their opponents. Only what's left of the other side is not choice, aside from one survivor - a bit of heart here, an entrail there - and no sooner does the platoon start to recover from their shock,when the howling begins and furtive movements are espied in the bushes. This, again, during broad daylight! And you thought werewolves only came out at night . . .

The attack isn't long in coming and before the platoon hightails it to the road, one member is impaled on a tree limb and another has his stomach shredded. Miraculously, an SUV appears out of nowhere driven by Megan, a beautiful blonde. She manages to get our crew inside and drive off, despite a werewolf ripping through the top of the roof. Turns out, she's an anthrpologist researching the mysterious disappearances in the area, and she hustles one and all into the only cottage within fifty miles.

Right, you're asking now, how Megan managed to survive, not to mention the family of four who've been living in the charming fairy-tale like house with lycnathropes roaming all about them. Of course the clan just happens to be out when Megan and the platoon hit the house running, so the answer is painfully obvious to the audience. The Army crew still doesn't get it, even when Megan explains things, but they really aren't given time to debate the point as the monsters, once the sun goes down, begin a full scale assault on the Yeatsian-styled hut.

Here, the film begins to shamelessly ape Night of the Living Dead but it really doesn't matter because director/writer Marshall is effortlessly mixing effective comedy with gruesome shocks and some wonderful plot twists to keep you on the edge of your seat. Remarkable too, is the dialogue; there isn't a single wasted line, and every bit of it is used to flesh out character and to advance the story. And those special effects, oh my, those are some genuninely frightening, realistic looking werewolves. Let's hear it too, for the gruesome and sometimes mortal wounds we are forced to witness, when a face is slashed, an arm lopped off or head slowly bitten into, you feel it, deep in the pit of your stomach. Which can really hurt, if you, like Ozzy, are working on your second sixteen ounce six-pack.