I read the book after seeing the movie and didn't care for it, finding it somewhat trashy; but trashy books often make good movies, and this one certainly could have. The story of a teen girl's exploration of her attractive power over boys, which she finds as irresistibly stimulating as it is doubtfully controllable, and which has an even tighter grip on her than it would on a normal girl because it affects her through her werewolfry--this story would have an obvious appeal to the young audience for which movies are made: an appeal of one kind to girls, and of another kind to boys: and I don't understand how the movie makers could be blind to that and turn the story into one with little appeal to anybody.<br /><br />To begin with, take the title (which is the best thing about the book): it's drawn from a Hesse quotation, also used as an epigraph, about a person running in fear and tasting both blood and chocolate in his mouth, one tasting as bad as the other. This is a wonderful metaphor for the heroine's state: torn between her human and wolf sides, savoring each but equally fearful of both. The movie dispenses with the epigraph, and instead introduces the character working in her aunt's chocolate shop! I can understand how the book's title might have suggested to the movie makers the erotically charged chocolates of "Like Water for Chocolate," and led them to want to link the same symbol to werewolves. But they didn't; so why is it in the movie? In the book the characters are in high school--or in and out, as with the Five, a teen gang who favor black jeans and T-shirts, and fall somewhere between being the heroine's nemeses and her pet peeves. In the movie they've become decadent twenty-something clubgoers. In the book the heroine is 16, just of an age to be discovering how her sexuality operates on the boy she wants, as well as on herself; she's the one who initiates the contact, then steps back, re-initiates, and so on. In the movie she's no longer a girl but a woman, and the guy is no longer a high school poet on the fringe of campus life but a fugitive from the law (and a comic book artist, to boot), it's he who comes on to her, in a manner as unattractive as that of her wormy cousin. She initially puts him off, but then gives in, as he's confident she will: hey, you know you want it. I would have thought a female director would have taken the chance the book offered to show a female protagonist in an uncompliant, proactive role; but no.<br /><br />In the book the heroine's clan is driven from their home because of the Five's delinquent behavior; in the movie it's because she went for a run(!). She's a great runner, prone to kicking off from building walls, and both she and her clanmates scale buildings in a trice; very like heroes of martial arts movies and very unlike wolves, or anything resembling them. In the book they don't turn into actual wolves, but things bigger than wolves; in the movie they're just ordinary wolves. In the book they metamorphose in "Howling" style, with crunching of spines; this is one of the things that make the heroine aware of the pain her body brings her, as well as the pleasure. In the movie the werewolves have become magical acrobats, taking great swan dives and transforming in mid-air, shimmering yellow like Tinker-Bell; it looks cool, means nothing.<br /><br />In the book the clan is a slightly white-trashy family that has relocated from West Virginia to Maryland. In the movie they live in Bucharest but all talk in different accents, none Romanian. In the book nearly the whole pack want to lead normal lives and agree that to insure that--and indeed, their survival--one necessity is to keep their true nature secret from humans. And so the characters keep saying in the movie; yet the head of the clan is some kind of underground boss--but apparently not a crime boss, since he despises criminals--and has a standing deal with the police, who supply him with "meat" for the pack. This seems a big exception to the rule of keeping humans from knowing; but maybe the police are considered safe because of their known tolerance for eccentricity and cult murder.<br /><br />At the end of the book the heroine learns she can't be something she's not when, in her effort to live a divided life, she gets stuck between the human and animal states, unable to be all one thing or the other. Her boyfriend isn't sure or strong enough to accept her for what she is, the pack can't risk having him around, and the two are forced to separate. In the movie she rescues him like Lassie, and they drive off to Paris (why Paris?), in an ending that's smiley-faced but not really happy, since the conflicts between their natures--between _her_ natures--remain unresolved.<br /><br />But the difference in the movie that hampers enjoyment the most is that whereas the book characters behave conventionally, within the realm of young adult novels, those in the movie for some reason have been made as annoying as possible. Every other line is a threat or some other kind of oneupsmanship: you'll be sorry; you don't belong here; you won't get rid of me; I gave you your chance; etc. I prefer to steer clear of people who deal in that way.<br /><br />There have been many good vampire movies, never a good werewolf movie. Had this one stuck to the book, it might have been the first.<br /><br />But no.