Is becoming a woman analogous, in some deep psychological way, to becoming a werewolf? Ginger is 16, edgy, tough, and, with her younger sister, into staging and photographing scenes of death. They’ve made a pact about dying together. In early October, on the night she has her first period, which is also the night of a full moon, a werewolf bites Ginger. Within a few days, some serious changes happen to her body and her temperament. Her sister Brigitte, 15, tries to find a cure with the help of Sam, a local doper. As Brigitte races against the clock, Halloween and another full moon approach, Ginger gets scarier, and it isn’t just local dogs that begin to die.
On the downside, the last twenty percent of the film declines into cliched stalk-and-slash, with typically idiotic behaviour by previously intelligent characters, and an embarrassingly polymeric monster. The humanoid werewolf makeup is so derivative of “Buffy” I’m surprised Optic Nerve didn’t sue. Moreover, for its revisionist pretensions, the films underlying attitudes to sexuality are disappointingly regressive, as are the final fates to which it consigns its characters.