The perfect werewolf movie is like the holy grail of filmmaking: ever elusive, probably unattainable. Foolish directors and writers regularly throw themselves into the gauntlet, hoping to make history.

When previews for “The Wolfman” came out, it looked very possible that some group of geniuses had finally achieved what so many thought impossible. They didn’t.

“The Wolfman” is set in the creepiest of all places: the dark and misty English moor, where werewolf legends reached their historical zenith. The eerie nature of the English moor offers infinite opportunities for a subtle, disturbing story.

Yet, when a man was disemboweled by a gorilla-like fur-ball in the very first scene, it was miserably evident that Joe Johnston had abandoned all notions of subtlety.

The movie was awkwardly constructed. Half of the time, it kept viewers on edge with hints of disturbing violence and horrific creatures seen out of the corner of the eye. However, the film nullified all of these attempts at suspense with gratuitous disembowelment and decapitation shots in the scenes immediately following.

The incompetent Frankenstein of attempted subtlety and unwarranted gore turned the film into a comedy. As for the plotline, most viewers will have figured out the ending halfway through.

“The Wolfman” tries to keep audiences interested with the occasional “jump-out-and-getcha” routine, but even this time-tested tool of horror is rendered ineffective by the sheer shamelessness of the violence. When a man’s intestines are spilt all over his boots in the first scene, the audience is basically desensitized from then on.

The creature design communicates the basic problem of the film. Big, hulking mounds of black hair might look impressive, but it isn’t actually frightening. At least the werewolves are a considerable improvement on the oversized timber wolves from “Twilight: New Moon.” And the transformation scenes are spectacular.

The film does some things right. The subtle half is absolutely soul-rending if you can manage to ignore the other half. Anthony Hopkins has some really compelling monologues when he isn’t busy broadcasting his evil agenda.

The film’s location is at once beautiful and unsettling, and when a werewolf is let loose in late 19th century London, only a satisfying rampage can result. Overall, “The Wolfman” is worth the watch. At the very least, it returns a genre that has lately gone haywire to its historical roots.

Hopefully, the film will be a springboard for other, better werewolf films to work from. When humanity is finally given the perfect werewolf movie it so deeply deserves, it may owe much to “The Wolfman.”