Werewolves on Wheels (1971)

"We all know how we're gonna die, baby! We're gonna crash and burn!!"

Nope, I ain't shitting you; heavy-metaller Rob Zombie actually used a quote from “Werewolves on Wheels” to introduce one of his songs, “Sick Bubblegum.” When I had discovered this with my editor Zeke, we were both quite surprised. After thinking about it for a while, though, it's not all that absurd a concept. Zombie's obviously all about cultish, pushing-the-limits type stuff, and that set of adjectives is pretty much how I'd describe “Werewolves on Wheels” as a piece of art. The main similarity between this movie and the range of Zombie's work as a musician is quite interesting: both bear a strong “love it or hate it” feel.

"Werewolves on Wheels" opens with the bunch of bikers, all of whom inexplicably look like Jack Nicholson, riding down some nondescript cross between a roadway and a Moto Racer track. This is set to lo-fi blues rock, and the music is quite fitting, almost hypnotizing as the off-kilter group literally rides for 5 straight minutes. Following this entrancing, nearly beautiful introduction, they all stop at a gas station to beat the crap out of some guy that cut them off in traffic. It's a pointless diversion but it's pretty amusing. Definitely a “B-movie thing,” for those of you unfamiliar with these types of films.

The gang, named The Devil's Advocates, is led by Adam (Steve Oliver), a 30-something year old male who fits the idiotic 70's/80's biker guy stereotype to a tee. He's a sarcastic fatalist and compulsive drinker who doesn't take well to anything he considers to be “bullshit,” which is where his foil Tarot (Gene Shane) comes in.

Adam (R) assuring Tarot that everything's gonna be
alright. The duo's dysfunction spells trouble for The
Advocates later on.

After beating up the traffic guy, the gang stops to take a break. Tarot feels as though there are bad vibes in the air, but Adam reassures him that it's just in his head. As you can well imagine, this is a friendship laden with tension. It's interesting to watch the story unfold as Adam and Tarot's friendship becomes more and more strained. Eventually their arguments pave the way for disaster for the rest of the gang.

Adam disregards Tarot's minor spiritual outburst, and with his nineteen-billionth swig of beer, the group of Nicholsons take off into the hot Statesiana sun to find a story to engage themselves in. However, the fact that they're imbeciles doesn't bode well for them and they wind up becoming lost. Tarot frustratedly insists to his fellow bikers that he “has the truth.” Despite the gang's evident skepticism, this simple statement is all the convincing they need to follow his lead down a secluded back road into the backyard of the previously-mentioned occultist Satanic church. This is where the real fun begins.

What we're given here is the strongest part of the film thus far, especially in terms of cinematography. I don’t know what it is about Satanic imagery that makes B-movies good, but it seems like in between 1970-1985, any interjection of Satanic content into a low-budget production transformed the directors into acid-gobbling maniacs with panoramic imaginations, nonexistent mental limitations and shitty video cameras. There are hooded monks, poorly-recorded ritualistic meditation, animal sacrifice, excessive makeup, and everything else you can set your mind to. This sounds awesome now, right? Okay, here's the bad news:

You know how I said earlier about how “this is where the real fun begins”? Well, I sort of lied. “The real fun” isn't very long lived at all because The Advocates leave the church ground after a single scene; only 10 minutes. At this point “Werewolves on Wheels” turns into a true test of patience for (what I'd imagine to be) most viewers.

The second and third acts of this film are absurdly scattered, attempting to mash “conventional film” and “art film” sensibilities together and creating something not all that great. When I had initially taken this movie to Zeke, I described it to him: “It's one of the more enjoyable films I've ever watched that was basically about nothing.” Although I've come to a point in B-moviedom where I'm aware that (nearly) every B-movie is about something, this film does not seem to readily reflect that. If your movie is going to be an “art film” instead of a “conventional film”, there's a certain line between the two worlds that you'll need to tread over very, very competently to not lose sight of the storyline. “Werewolves on Wheels” is not an example of careful line-treading.

In fact, it fails miserably at this. The most prominent of these failures takes place around ten minutes after The Advocates leave the church. They go out into another field to crash and here's what happens: a pair of Advocates are having sex in supposed seclusion as Adam takes his girl out to the same area to engage in coitus as well. However, what Adam doesn't know is that his girl has been given the mark of the beast. When Satan (exemplified by the monk “One”) witnesses them starting to get it on, he uses black magic to make the woman (Donna Anders) ravenous. As a result: she winds up biting Adam; they both become werewolves; and they fiercely feast on the couple nearby. Let me tell you, even re-watching it right now as I write this, it still baffles me that the direction team decided to use this ill-fitting set of images to portray an extremely important plot point like this. It is so fucking disorienting it hurts to even think about.

Another example of the confusion caused by the underwhelming storytelling occurs later in the movie. After being lost in the desert for a while, The Advocates happen upon an additional 30ish other Advocates who had been lost in the desert. Any explanation of their having been separated is nonexistent, as far as I could tell. I mean, I can be a daft person at times, but for something like that to logically, meaningfully occur, you really should make completely sure that your audience is aware of what exactly is occurring. Moments like this (and trust me: there are a ZILLION of them) are less engaging than they are just plain confounding.

To top all this off, the audio mastering is pretty bad. I don't know who sat behind the mixer board for this movie, but it certainly would have helped that person to actually know how to operate a mixer board. Instead, the result is that I get to have confusing scenes dictated to me via dialogue that sounds as though it had been recorded to a 50-year-old cassette tape.

But not all is bleak here because there is a point in the movie where it almost transforms into a nature documentary about The Advocates. They go off into the desert to engage in drunken shenanigans: fake TV showcases, poor attempts at acting like animals, car-tipping, and other general acts of buffoonery. There's some really beautiful cinematography, and I have to admit that there's a certain point during the second act where the lost storyline almost becomes a blessing (listening to a drunken biker explain that he drugged his friend pretending to be a dog is great entertainment). However, as the movie wears on, the novelty to be found out of these things wears thin. And of course there's the fact that about 40 minutes ago, you were watching a movie about a Satanic cult and now you're watching a movie about a group of idiots lost in a desert. The contrast between these two things in terms of sheer entertainment value is tremendous: I'd take an overacted Satanic priest sacrificing a cat over a group of idiots lost in a desert any day.

I really feel that if “Werewolves on Wheels” cut 20 minutes of the wanton documentation of the life of The Advocates, added 20 minutes of Satanic action and tightened up the storytelling, it would have had the potential to be a really badass movie at very little expense to the integrity of the piece of art itself. Instead, the movie relies too heavily on the hypnotic feel it attempts to set forth. If you're not caught in the spell of slow blues music being played over random footage of dudes riding motorcycles, you're probably not going to “get” this movie. Here in the 2010's, we live in a society of instant gratification, and “Werewolves on Wheels” does NOT seem like the kind of thing any video-game-addicted community college student would wanna go out of their way to pay attention to for 85 minutes.

“Werewolves on Wheels” is far too long for its simple concept, but has great music, great cinematography, charming characters, and a real “sit down and have a beer with buddies” feel. It also certainly has a cogent artistic vision, which is more than I can say for some of the utter awfulness I've had to suffer through in the process of making this blog.

ZEKE'S TAKE:

"Welcome to Good Satan, home of
the Good Satan. Can I take your order?"

If you go into this film expecting a "conventional film," you could get lost pretty quickly. "Werewolves on Wheels" attempts a linear storyline but loses it in its overwhelmingly "art film" / "mood piece" atmosphere. It's easy to see why Drew would initially say, "Wow, this is a pretty good flick about nothing." When a movie relies on mood & emotion, it's easy to lose track of the story. However, the intention of "Werewolves on Wheels" seems to be to hypnotize you in "the vibes" and make you forget all else.

Drew contends that this movie has only a very loose storyline that is eventually lost completely. I'd say, however, that the story's there all along to some extent, but frequently told from a more conceptual perspective. If you dig movies like this, you'll probably appreciate this one; if, on the other hand, you find that mode of storytelling tedious, then Drew's idea to 
cut-here and add-there will seem like a godsend.