The Company of Wolves

Never stray from the path (i.e., into the lecherous arms of men), the sweetest tongue has the sharpest tooth (i.e., beware smooth-talking lotharios), the worst kinds of wolves are hairy on the inside (i.e., men are animals): Angela Lansbury is full of metaphoric feminist homilies as a storytelling granny who spins cautionary tales about beastly men to her young granddaughter in director Neil Jordan's (The Crying Game, Nell) second film, a dark 1984 take-off on the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood." Set up as a near-film-length dream sequence, this atmospheric and beautifully shot Freudian fantasy finds young Rosaleen (Sarah Patterson) dreaming of life in a mystical medieval village occasionally beset by wolves, or men in wolves' clothing who reveal their true natures through gory, schlock animatronic transformation sequences. Adapted from her own short story by the late Angela Carter, The Company of Wolves is wonderful to look at (the slow-motion sequences of wolves in a pack bounding through the forest is still amazing today), but only fitfully engaging as it strays from the path far too often in dead-end subplots that, along with the cheesy effects, ultimately detract from the central story of a young girl's fateful visit to her granny's cottage (even if said story is merely a plot on which to hang symbolism that ranges from the obvious to the obtuse). Sporting an unexceptional though serviceable DVD transfer and Dolby Digital stereo sound, the disc also features a 13-minute promo comprised of out of sequence shots and a photo gallery. Optional. (R. Pitman)