The Wolf of Snow Hollow

It's likely I would've thought better of 2020's THE WOLF OF SNOW HOLLOW had I not seen director/writer/star Jim Cummings' previous, THUNDER ROAD first.   Such a strong debut that was, with Cummings lending a true tour-de-force to the proceedings.  His portrayal of an angry cop weathering trouble at work, a bad divorce, a custody battle for his daughter, and grief for the passing of his mother was close to flawless.  It announced a talent with which to be reckoned.  His film deftly synthesized the tragic and the humorous, often simultaneously.

This time, he plays another angry cop, an alcoholic with strained relationships with his ex-wife and daughter, an ailing father (who's also the sheriff of their small Utah ski town), and a baffling string of serial killings of young women that may have been committed by a six foot plus tall werewolf.  Cummings' lead characters have different names, but are cut from the same toxic cloth.  So much so that it is making me wonder if he is capable of playing any other sort of guy, at least under his own direction. 

The first time we see John Marshall, he's addressing fellow addicts at a sobriety meeting.  Immediately it is recognized that the actor is playing the same notes as before.  A wildly defensive, insecure compensator with zero threshold for anything that challenges or discredits him.  Granted, Cummings is still good, and can emote with the best of 'em, but this second go round just feels recycled.  His battles with fellow police officers, sometimes edging into fisticuffs, also recall moments from THUNDER ROAD.

With THE WOLF OF SNOW HOLLOW, whose title may refer to the metamorphosis of more than one character, Cummings attempts to merge his study of misappropriated masculinity with genre horror, and the results are stale and unimpressive a majority of the time.   Many of the comedic elements land with a thud.  Too often this plays like a third rate FARGO, or even an episode of Psych, especially as, with so many films shot digitally, it has that too clean, sterile look of made for cable/streaming fare. 

I hesitate to call this a horror movie, despite a few brief but brutal pursuit and attack scenes with that wolf.   Cummings is not really interested in scaring us; this is just another loud, aggressive (but always perceptive) character study that does have the occasional good moment, and a nice performance by Robert Forster (his last) as Marshall's dad.  I also really liked Riki Lindhome as Officer Julia Robson, Marshall's calm, level-headed colleague.  They share an amusing bit when Marshall wonders,  "You think women have had to deal with shit like this since the Middle Ages?" It's a moment that reveals John's myopia, about a lot of things.  He's not O.K., and we get it, again.  

Better luck next time, Jim.