The Fitzgerald sisters (Ginger 16, and Bridget 15) are a pack of their own. These self-styled outsiders are fascinated by death, stick together no matter what, and made a childhood suicide-pact in case their lives don’t improve. When Ginger is attacked by a creature and starts exhibiting some radical hormonal changes, both sisters find out who they really are. Ginger Snaps (written by Karen Walton, produced by Steve Hoban and Karen Lee Hall and directed by John Fawcett) is every John Hughes movie meets An American Werewolf in London. Only better.

Ginger Snaps has a beautiful score by Michael Shield, featuring a melancholy cello. Even if you miss all the other clues, this score will tell you that Ginger Snaps is more than just another horror flick. There is an intelligence about Ginger Snaps that is both remarkable and refreshing. Although there is no shortage of dismemberment, it focuses on horror of a different kind, equating the phases of the werewolf and its lunar cycle to the things we have no control over that happen to our bodies in adolescence; the menstrual cycle in particular. It explores the horrors of being a teenager and questions just what our worst nightmare really is. Is it being the same as everybody? Being radically different, being (perceived as) a monster? Is it seeing yourself go through changes you have no control over? Or is it losing somebody you love because they change into someone you just don’t recognise anymore and having to confront what is left of you without them, who you are without them; because they have gone to a place where you can’t follow?

In asking these questions Ginger Snaps deviates from general werewolf rules but this is made plausible by the narrative. In fact, everything in this film is explained; there is utmost consistency, even if it has its share of continuity errors (particularly in the makeup department). In Ginger Snaps, there are other ways of werewolf-infection than just being bitten on the full moon. And other ways of disposing of the beast than by silver bullet. Because these changes are credibly explained, Ginger Snaps becomes a refreshing take on the werewolf theme.

Also, not everything plays out by the horror flick rules. Ginger Snaps sings to its own tune, much in the way the Fitzgerald sisters do. Every element you’d expect to see in a werewolf/horror film is there, but these elements twist and turn at the end of their tethers, delivering pleasant surprises all the way to the end. Ginger Snaps was produced with the help of Telefilm Canada, so it has a big budget for what is essentially a small film. This makes for some inspired casting, pretty good monster stuff and a lot of details in the set dressing, such as the girls’ bone pens and bird-skull necklaces.

Katharine Isabelle as Ginger does a good job; she transforms from a weird teen into a predator, while capturing the little girl inside of Ginger. And although both actresses shift gears fast, riding the delicate balance between children and young women, Emily Perkins as Bridget surpasses Isabelle. Perkins is wearing a rather uncomfortable wig, which is actually perfect: it makes this 22 year old look like the awkward 15 year old she is playing. She alternates between strange, scared, confident and ill at ease. Despite their blackness and cynicism both girls are very likable. And Perkins and Isabelle feel like sisters. Often their acting is somewhat extreme, there is a lot of emphatic near-shouting but that is how siblings respond to each other. One moment they are literally inseparable, the next they want to tear each other apart. In supporting roles, Kris Lemche hits the spot as the botanist coming to the rescue and Mimi Rodgers (the bit of inspired casting I mentioned earlier) is very funny as the mum who will go to extremes to be a part of her daughters’ lives.

The script is filled with good dialogue that does not sound made up. It is witty and direct, but does not lose its serious undercurrent or reduce the horror element. Direction, cinematography and fairly decent make-up effects (particularly considering the budget) tie everything together.

Anybody who says that their teenage years were the best of their life has clearly forgotten what it was like to actually be a teenager. Puberty is years of running the gauntlet, without the opportunity of a break or a rest, while being betrayed by your body. Ginger Snaps succeeds in bringing that message home by means of a werewolf film and if nothing else, that alone is an achievement worth watching.