You'll probably end up gnawing off a limb to escape from this one; I never realised werewolf movies could be so dull. In mid-19th century Spain, someone - or something - is taking it out on the local villagers. Mind you, they're such a bland, uninteresting selection of characters that you tend to side with the attacker, whatever he...she...it may be. Who am I trying to kid: such suspense seems pointless, given the movie's title - except it is hugely inappropriate. If you use "werewolf", we expect to see...oh, I dunno: werewolves? Not, please note, plodding historical drama. And I never realised hunting was so tedious; the thrill of the chase is near-absent, replaced by a more "psychological" (read: uninteresting) approach.
Julian Sands plays womanizing soap salesman Romasanta, who moves from village to village, seducing the local ladies, and simultaneously engaging in serial slaughter - in an icky touch, he harvests corpse fat to use in his product. But one victim (Sharian), was merely left for dead, and is now on Romasanta's trail; he's convinced he has been cursed, and that the only way to lift it lies in killing the killer. No denying the cinematography is lush; Sands is his usual solid self, and looks remarkably young here. Maybe it's really a case of expectation management: go in, expecting actual werewolves and you'll be - like us - sadly disappointed. But you might enjoy it if you want something more like a serial-killer film. Set 150 years ago. In Spain. With a werewolf twist. Why you would seek such a movie does, however, escape me.