It’s odd to see lycanthropy lore warped from a tormented curse, with the afflicted forced to live with their uncontrolled murder, into something celebrated for its brutality, cruelty, and viciousness. Rather than fear, Werewolf: The Apocalypse treats the primal and instinctual bloodlust as a defensive means against a comically crude oil corporation.
In its own vague way, Werewolf: The Apocalypse finds a connection to the tribal protests against the Keystone pipeline, the werewolf clan fighting against the polluting, planet-harming Endron – just one letter off from Enron, also an energy conglomerate, one caught in a financial scandal.
Werewolf: The Apocalypse doesn’t show empathy. In a rage, everyone dies, mass slaughter shrugged off because if someone works for Endron, they made a choice. Given the state of political violence, it’s especially crass in justifying the ludicrous level of bloodshed. Even without transforming to a werewolf in a stealth approach, necks shatter and backs break through a terrifying veil of casualness.
Considering the legends, metaphorically fearful of humanity’s ability to soullessly kill without remorse, imagining that as a celebratory trait, even against something so preposterously evil, is a pitiful excuse to write off the creaky, two-console-generations-old combat and design.