Drama
A Man in Full
Talent and intrigue ultimately can’t cloak the truth about this vulgar, crass and graphic drama on Netflix.
Even in the best relationships, people need their “me time”. Men might like to go to a baseball game, perhaps; or take a nice, quiet bath. Women could go for a walk in the woods. Or lock themselves in the basement and devour live chickens.
Yes, “me time” can be as unique as the individual. And when that individual is a werewolf, “me time” takes on a whole new meaning.
It’s not as though Mary ever asked to be a werewolf. She was just fine until that day during a vacation in Prague, when she was bitten by what she thought was a rabid dog.
Alas, the dog wasn’t so much rabid as cursed. And sure enough—one romantic night during a full moon—Mary transformed and promptly ate her husband.
You can imagine that the lonely advice columnist has been a bit leery of relationships ever since. But that was before she ran—literally—into Gary and her daughter, Emma. (Luckily, the two were driving a Volvo.) They, too, lost a loved one: Lisa, Gary’s beloved wife and Emma’s much-missed mother. Seven years later, both—living in Adelaide, Australia—were still grieving.
But as time goes on, Gary and Mary grow closer. And it’s clear that Emma connects to Mary in a special way, too. The tween actually confides in Mary. She seems to ease Emma’s panic attacks, too, something that Gary’s tried to help Emma control for years. Clearly, Gary needs Mary in his and his daughter’s life.
The fact that she’s a werewolf? Sure, that’s inconvenient. But nothing that a nice titanium basement door, bars on the windows and a bunch of live poultry can’t solve.
As Season Two opens, though, this small family has at least one new challenge on its hairy hands: Mary’s pregnant—and there’s some question with what. If she’s carrying a regular ol’ baby, is it possible that Mary might give birth on a full moon and harm the child? If she’s carrying a wolf, does that mean she might have a … litter?
And if Mary and Gary’s progeny is neither fully human nor fully wolf, what will that mean? Will they have to mix baby formula with chicken blood?
Like Mary in some respects, Wolf Like Me is a strange creature. It’s part romance. Part comedy. Part horror. And it can be kinda sweet—until you start slipping on all the blood on the basement floor.
This Peacock series gives us a pair of broken people who find that, even with all their problems, they fit together. We see real healing here, and (despite Mary’s and Gary’s unmarried status) real love. And the show leans into those relational aspects more than the werewolf in the room.
But when the werewolf does enter, look out. Blood sprays. Entrails spill. Heads bounce. Mary admits that she’s eaten more people than just her first husband. When she turns, Mary’s liable to kill even the people she loves—even if Gary would like to believe otherwise. He points to a moment in the first season when werewolf Mary didn’t try to kill him.
“I didn’t attack you because I’d already eaten that guy!” Mary protests.
“You didn’t eat him,” Gary insists. “You just took his head off and ran into the outback.”
But even if Mary’s other full-moon form was a kindly toy poodle, the show comes with other problems. Nudity is rare, but possible. Bad language is all too common, and it includes the f- and the s-words. And while we can laud Mary’s influence on Emma’s anxiety, the lessons she may be teaching the girl may cause a bit of anxiety themselves.
Wolf Like Me does have its tail-wagging moments, but the content here will make many a discernment-minded viewer growl. And families should be very were-y indeed.
Mary and Gary are moving—and Gary feels a little cash-strapped, given all the safety features their new home needs to have in play. But Mary has a lot more on her mind than whether the titanium door is strong enough or there are enough chew toys to keep her occupied. She’s very concerned about who—or what—her unborn baby might be.
The episode opens with a dream sequence. Mary and Gary are apparently getting married. Their ceremony is taking place in a forest, but it has a number of church-like attributes (including gothic window frames suspended from the trees). But when the officiant (it’s unclear whether he’s a member of the clergy) starts talking about these “two lost souls who found themselves,” Mary’s belly bursts open and a fangy creature bursts forth. As the blood-drenched guests flee, Mary’s baby attacks Gary before Mary wakes up.
Gary scrubs the blood-covered basement floor of their old house (in preparation to sell it) before giving up and deciding they’ll paint the concrete instead. Mary sends a couple of prospective buyers away from their for-sale property by pretending to talk on the phone with someone and talk about how people were kidnapped and tortured there. When Gary proudly shows off the fortified basement in their new house, Mary suggests that he should “worry less about the ambiance and more about me not eating you.”
Mary and Gary make an anxiety-laden trip to an obstetrician, with Mary trying to figure out how they might avoid, at all costs, giving birth during a full moon. When the doctor says they might induce early if there were extenuating circumstances, Mary asks hopefully, “What if someone were to break my arm?” The two go to a birthing class (also attended by a lesbian couple), and Mary goes to lunch with the other mothers in the group. “Does anyone else worry that their baby will eat them from the inside?” she asks. She later devours some raw chicken.
Emma attends a private school, and we see a cross on an outside wall. Gary and Mary are called to the principal’s office when Emma is accused of pushing another girl down. (Emma was actually defending another student from some bullying behavior.) Characters use the f-word about five times, the s-word two or three times and “d–k” once. God’s and Jesus’ names are both abused a couple of times.
Gary and Mary have their first “date night” at their new house—code for “It’s a full moon, and Emma needs to stay with someone else in case something goes wrong.” Naturally, something does.
In her wolf-like state, Mary presumably eats (offscreen) two live chickens and a rabbit. She tears up a good chunk of the house, including her unborn baby’s nursery. When Mary returns to her human form (stained with blood and slipping on a bathrobe), she’s a bit horrified, especially, at the state her beast-self left the nursery in; she worries that she might not be a very good mother. (Oh, the beast-Mary attacks Gary, too, and he suffers a cut on his head.)
Beast-Mary urinates on a picture of Gary’s late wife. Mary-Mary exposes a bit of shoulder as she’s putting on her robe. Emma freaks out a little watching Watership Down, but can you blame her. A little girl feeds her fish anti-anxiety medication. We hear three or four f-words and a like number of s-words. God’s and Jesus’ name are both misused.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Talent and intrigue ultimately can’t cloak the truth about this vulgar, crass and graphic drama on Netflix.
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