An American Werewolf in London

Ahh - that's my childhood broken.  Thanks AAWIL...

A real rite of passage this one - if your childhood traversed the 80s as mine did; seeing in the decade at the tender age of six and waving it goodbye at the age of 16 with an upper lip full of fluff and a head full of nightmares.

AAWIL was basically handed round and did its duty terrifying the crap out of every child with a video player and non-vigilant parents.  On the front cover, a picture of Rick Baker's famously magnificent werewolf in mid-transformation make up, the title in earnest times new roman and that all important '18' certificate.  Pictures speak louder than words, and ripped plastic video covers speak volumes.

The bit that worried me the most was when David dreams of running through the woods... he comes across a hospital bed... in the bed... himself... he looks again... he's got yellow eyes and animal fangs and he makes a terrible cat like snarling noise and... I've had an accident.

Oh - and the bit when he wakes up from a dream in which grotesque creatures are killing his family - but he hasn't actually woken up and one of them leaps through the window and stabs his nurse, and shag buddy, Alex (portrayed with lashings of charm and vulnerable sex appeal by former Railway Child Jenny Agutter).

It really was unbelievably scary and transgressive back then, but now we see it again, and again, and again - and oh my God we realise just how much fun it all is.

Because AAWIL is basically a riot.  This film is fun on a bun.  And, despite the American director, it's very much British fun... like Carry on Howling.  Or maybe it's because of John Landis being a yank that the the whole thing feels like a love letter to seedy, rainy old England. A slightly unreal, foreign view of the place - even in those grim days - but we're definitely in English England here, not in Hollywood England.

The policemen, the taxi drivers, the business type who gets his face ripped off on the underground, the porno film with constant interruptions from tradesmen and wrong number phone calls... why not discover England... and eat it?

I seem to have waffled on a bit.  You need to know stuff like this :  the music is composed entirely of songs about 'the moon', Rik Mayall is very briefly in it, the werewolf transformation is still jaw droppingly awesome and it's very, very funny.

Thems the facts but I'm not in the realm of facts with this film.  I am just moonstruck... sick with love, delirious and ravenous, hungry like the wolf.  Yum fucking yum.