Howl (2015)

Howl takes a wonderfully simple setup—a late-night train ride—and turns it into a pressure-cooker of dread where every rattling carriage and dark window feels like a dare. Director Paul Hyett keeps the momentum relentless, using the cramped setting to squeeze real tension out of small choices and fraying nerves, while the cast sells the humanity at the center so you’re not just waiting for the next scare—you’re invested in who makes it through the night. It’s satisfyingly old-school creature-feature horror with modern bite: gnarly, practical-feeling gore, sharp pacing, and a working-class grit that makes the danger feel uncomfortably close. If you’re squeamish about blood or want subtle, slow-burn horror, this may be too blunt an instrument—but if you want a lean, mean midnight movie that knows exactly how to entertain, hop aboard.

Howl wants to be a lean, old-school “trapped in a metal tube” survival horror, mixing grimy British banter with a werewolf siege and a ticking-clock night. It mostly delivers on pace and nastiness—there’s plenty of gore and a few tense carriage-to-carriage set pieces—but the creature design and effects can look a bit rubbery, which makes it harder to take the threat seriously. The characters are serviceable rather than memorable, and the story builds to a finale that feels more like it runs out of track than lands a punch. If you’re happy with a brisk, bloody B-movie werewolf ride, you’ll get your money’s worth; if you need convincing monsters and a strong, satisfying finish, this one may leave you cold.