An old Gothic cathedral, built over a mass grave, develops strange powers which trap a number of people inside with ghosts from a 12th Century massacre seeking to resurrect an ancient demon from the bowels of the Earth.
Feodor Chaliapin Jr.
One man's struggle to contain the curse he hides within... and his last-ditch attempt to free himself with the love of family. But when it looks as if he is losing his battle, and ... See full summary »
After countless millennia of watching, waiting and stalking, the unholy creatures known as werewolves are poised to inherit the earth. After newswoman Karen White's shocking on-screen transformation and violent death, her brother Ben is approached by Stefan Crosscoe, a mysterious gentleman who claims that Karen has actually become a werewolf. But this is the least of their worries... To save mankind, Stefan and Ben must travel to Transylvania to battle and destroy Stirba, the immortal queen of all werewolves, before she is restored to her full powers! Written by
Matt Dotzenroth <email@example.com>
When Christopher Lee reads from the Book of Revelation, his Bible is opened near the middle. But this book is the last book of the Bible. Visually, it probably wouldn't have looked as good if the book was opened to the end, plus balancing it in his hand with all the weight on one side would have been difficult. See more »
For it is written: the inhabitants of the Earth have been made drunk with her blood. And I saw her sent upon a hairy beast and she held forth a golden chalice full of the filthiness of fornications. And upon her forehead was written: "Behold I am the great mother of harlots and all abominations of the Earth."
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The closing credits run over what appear to be deleted scenes and alternate footage, along with the same scene of Sybil Danning ripping off her shirt, which is repeated 17 times. See more »
..."Howling II" is not. It is, however, a comically bad and therefore highly enjoyable film.
The plot (if you can call it that) goes something like this: Some Flock of Seagulls-looking bloke loses his sister to a werewolf attack (yet another peril of living in Los Angeles). He and this reporter chick meet up with a werewolf hunter (a deadpan Christopher Lee) at the dead girl's funeral. For reasons unclear, the trio voyage to Transylvania, where they do battle with the queen of the undead, Stirba (the frequently nude Sybil Danning). From there on, things get confusing.
There's some sort of arts fair going on in Transylvania, which I thought was vampire country but apparently has a burgeoning lycanthrope population. The Flock of Seagulls dude nails the reporter chick with his pants still on. Three partially transformed (read: hairy) werewolves enjoy a spirited, if somewhat testy, menage a trois. A dwarf's eye explodes. Much fun is had by all.
"Howling II: Your Sister Is A Werewolf" (its alternate title, "Stirba the Werewolf Bitch" had me laughing for days) is, indeed, a terrible movie. I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, and after watching it on cable the other night I can't believe how bad it was. But I'm giving it a high rating and a sincere recommendation because they just don't make horror flicks like this anymore.
The werewolf transformations are just awful. The filmmakers were definitely going for "An American Werewolf in London" (which won an Oscar for its special effects), but, ahem, "fell prey" to their own kitschiness, which permeates the entire film. There are some incredibly cheesy transitions between scenes; swipes, swirls, and spirals abound. And the script? I've seen more substance on a roll of Charmin. But it's great; how often do you get to hear lines such as, "That dwarf is staring at us"?
Compared to today's era of Macintosh-generated "special effects" (which look incredibly dated now, and will look even worse in ten years), a film like "Howling II" is a gem, a last hurrah of the last great era of horror films. You'll never see pools of blood or cheesy puppets or laughable laser rays done like this again. Get some beer, pop it in, and laugh yourself stupid. By the film's conclusion (in which Sybil Danning rips her clothes off seventeen times, all in time with a Cramps-sounding 80s band called Babel), you'll be glad you did.
"By the pale, pale light/pale, pale light of the moonglow..."
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