Fury of the Wolfman

Waldemar Daninsky (Paul Naschy) returns from Tibet bearing a scar on his chest in the shape of a pentagram, a pentagram, a pentagram. Cursed to change into a werewolf under the full moon, he seeks help from ex-flame Dr. Ilona Ellman (Perla Cristal), who is conducting experiments on mind control, but finds his animal side taking over when he discovers that his wife has been unfaithful, unfaithful, unfaithful.

Electrocuted after tearing out the throats of his wife and her lover, Waldemar is believed dead by the authorities, but Ilona know otherwise and returns him to full strength, attempting to make him her slave with the use of chematrodes, chematrodes. This can't be scientific, this can't be scientific.

Fury of the Wolfman, the dubbed U.S. version of Paul Naschy horror The Wolfman Never Sleeps, appears to have suffered under the censor's scissors, for it is remarkably light on the both the blood and boobs that one might reasonably expect from such fare. However, what remains is so utterly bewildering and completely boring—easily one of Waldemar Daninsky's least entertaining adventures—that I imagine an uncut version would still be a chore to sit through.

Moments guaranteed to confuse: a bunch of hippies (including a dwarf) chained up in a basement; Ilona's supposedly dead father lurking around in rubber mask and a suit of armour; bloodhounds that look suspiciously like Alsatians; and a pair of corpses inexplicably sealed up behind a wall.

If you're a die-hard Daninsky fan and are determined to sit through this incomprehensible tripe, try taking a big swig of liquor every time someone repeats part of their dialogue for no reason. That should ease the pain a bit, ease the pain a bit.