Sean Ellis' werewolf movie "The Cursed" tarts itself up a bit with 19th-century gothic imagery and a steady atmospheric gloom, but the script, which Ellis also wrote, can't escape most of the worst cliches of the genre, and its earnestness alone can't keep it from being pretty insipid.
Alistair Petrie plays a wealthy landowner named Seamus Laurent. When a group of Roma come to settle on his land, which they (rightfully, it turns out) claim as their own, he and the other nearby landowners pay a posse of mercenaries to eviscerate them as cruelly as possible. As a result, Seamus and his family -- wife Isabelle (Kelly Reilly), daughter Charlotte (Amelia Crouch), and son Edward (Max Mackintosh) -- are put under an ancient lycanthropic curse.
Many predictable things happen from there involving a pair of silver, canine-like teeth, innocent people being gored by some mysterious creature, and lots of arterial sprays of blood (Ellis seems to have a penchant for them, as well as for severed limbs -- I lost count of how many hands and feet were forcibly removed from their trunks). When a pathologist (Boyd Holbrook) comes to investigate, he puts all the pieces together, but not enough of the landed gentry listen to him in time to save themselves from their appointed maulings.
Shot in the French countryside, the film has a grand palette with which to work, but too much time is spent establishing things that seem perfectly obvious, and the script is riddled with peculiar anachronisms ("Me, neither," one character says in response to someone being unable to sleep) that keep throwing off its calculations. It's trying hard, but simply isn't made carefully enough, or with enough originality, to have it rise above its B-movie station.