This millionaire with a bizarre obsession invites a bunch of people to his estate so he can loudly accuse them of being werewolves of all things.

So what did you guys do during your werewolf break? I tried to figure out who the
werewolf was, but any screenwriter clever enough to devise a werewolf break is too
clever for me, shipmates.

Anyway imagine you're invited to a dinner party and the host is wearing an all black leather tracksuit with nothing underneath and keeps blathering that "YOU ARE A WEREWOLF!...or perhaps it is YOU who are the werewolf!" in a sort of strained elocution class accent. Perhaps you'd consider leaving in a huff when he tries to make everybody suck on silver bullets and vows that ere the night is spent he will hunt and shoot one of you like a game animal. Oddly only one person is offended enough to head for his car, and is promptly run off the road for "trying to escape".

Either that or he hit an invisible wall of blasting 70s TV show theme, and oh man if only I were the sort of person who puts music on a web page. BAA DAAA! wakachikawakachika...

So that sort of thing takes up 3/4 of the movie; the rest of the time a big German Shepherd jumps at people or is shot at from a helicopter, and that's pretty much the dish. Peter Cushing and Charles Grey are collecting cheques here too, mostly playing chess with each other on the side while the werewolf nonsense is going on. Certainly a terrible movie on paper, yet it's actually all pretty entertaining and will leave you wanting to waive a gun at random strangers and announce "where were YOU during the werewolf attack!".

And of course...

Werewolf break! Seriously I'm calling a werewolf break.

We are in a werewolf break right now.

So who is the werewolf? I'm looking at YOU.