Teen Wolf: The Movie Is a Fun Bummer
Photo Courtesy of Paramount+
In many ways, I am the absolute worst person to be reviewing Teen Wolf: The Movie. Not because, god forbid, I’m a Teen Wolf hater; nor because—worse!—I’m a Teen Wolf purist. On the contrary: I could never hate Teen Wolf, just as I would never suggest it contort itself to fit inside literally any box. This is a show that, over the course of its exhilarating six season run, sent its teen characters to at least a hundred blacklit raves, put them up against supernatural Nazis, and erased at least three of them from reality entirely. One of its most ambitious episodes was a period piece bottle episode about a Japanese internment camp during World War II! Expecting a Teen Wolf joint to be just one thing? A fool’s errand.
No, the problem is that, of all the critics in the world, I’m the only one who’s committed to Paste’s digital pages the two exact takes that Teen Wolf: The Movie seems determined to be in a fight with. Namely, the idea that 1) Scott and Allison’s canonically permanent break-up was the kind of audacious, narratively propulsive (post-)romantic development more shows should aspire to, and that 2) Scott and Stiles’ BroTP friendship was the blazingly obvious beating heart of the entire series.
And yet, here is what we get in Teen Wolf: The Movie: Allison Argent (Crystal Reed), supernaturally returned from the dead—and right when, wouldn’t you know it, a very single Scott (Tyler Posey) is ruminating on why he “just hasn’t found the right one” to settle down with!—and absolutely no Stiles (Dylan O’Brien).
When I say my unnecessary-’ship-hating, filial-love-loving heart wept at this realization, I’m only half exaggerating. Because as fun as it is to see Beacon Hills’ favorite hot dummies (and Lydia Martin) back on the inexplicably rain-soaked and lacrosse-loving scene, a Teen Wolf that doesn’t trust the power of the story it told about Scott and Allison’s teenage romance (or, for that matter, about Allison’s self-sacrifice to live up to her fiercely held value anti-Argent value of protecting those who can’t protect themselves), and that’s willing, moreover, to pivot away from the emotional anchor that is Scott and Stiles’ friendship…well, it’s hard to take seriously as a Teen Wolf that’s worth watching.
And that’s before taking into consideration the disheartening reports of the offensive salary inequity that allegedly stopped Season 3-5 regular Arden Cho from signing on—not least given the fact that the Big Bad brought back to terrorize Scott (Tyler Posey) and friends for their one-off Adult Wolf adventure is the Nogitsune. In his original incarnation, he tied intimately to Cho’s Kira not just by mythology (through her kitsune/firefox root), but also by personal history, through her grandmother’s tragic star-crossed romance with a white American soldier during her imprisonment in a Japanese internment camp during World War II. Yes, the Nogitsune was also the malevolent force behind Allison’s heroic death, and yes, it was O’Brien’s Stiles who made the Nogitsune *iconic*. But it was Kira who gave the Nogitsune any meaningful emotional valence. No Kira, and the Nogitsune’s just another vagabond trickster villain.
Anyway, this is the point at which I’d love to reveal how wrong the actual experience of watching Teen Wolf: The Movie proved my reservations to be. How the opening montage— with Scott as a big-city hero who seems to regularly rescue both kids and dogs from collapsing buildings; Lydia (Holland Roden) as the wunderkind CEO of a sustainable sonic energy start-up; Malia (Shelley Hennig) and Parrish (Ryan Kelley) as Beacon Hills’ hottest secret supernatural couple; and Derek (Tyler Hoechlin) as the emotionally terrorized single dad of a snarky, lacrosse-playing teen (Vince Mattis)—sets The Movie up to be a non-stop rollercoaster ride of Peak Teen Television nostalgia. How the inclusion of Stiles’ beloved blue Jeep does more to keep his comedic spirit present than I possibly could have anticipated. How deliciously Ian Bohen wraps himself up in high camp as Peter Hale, to the point that it feels like forgiving whatever sins brought him and his blowtorch back to us should just be considered the price of admission. How, even, the standards-and-practices leeway afforded by airing on Paramount+ means characters like Malia and Argent (JR Bourne) can play fast and loose with their fucks in a way that’s truer to who they each are at their core than anything MTV could ever have allowed.
And yet.
While it genuinely is a kick to dip back into