They really fucked up this one, didn’t they? To call this one of the worst sequels of all-time would make it sound too interesting, a train wreck that you’ve got to check out rather than a dishwater bore churned out by Hollywood professionals. Have these people even seen the original American Werewolf in London? They’ve learned none of its lessons about how comedy and horror are perfect companions as long as the humor is extra-dark and not fluffy romantic stuff. They think that primitive CGI monsters are an adequate replacement for Rick Baker’s still-great make-up effects from 1981. They think we want to learn more about werewolves rather than be scared of them. They think we want to see frat boy-types win in horror movies rather than be massacred as soon as possible. They think we want generous piles of slickster rock music from bands fresh from the late 90s MTV Buzz Bin and halfway into the cut-out bin. A gorgeous young Julie Delpy is about the only redeeming thing here.
Even worse: they released this movie on Halloween 1997 and no doubt ruined many people’s holiday.