Wolf King vs. Wereworld: My Completely Unqualified Take on Netflix's Adaptation

This is my personal blog, so obviously this is just one person's opinion. Your mileage may vary.

Right, so Netflix has gone and adapted Curtis Jobling's Wereworld series, and I have Opinions™. For context, I'm currently about 65% through Book 3 (just hit Part 5, Chapter 5 - "A Captive Audience" for those keeping track), which makes me exactly qualified enough to write a rambling blog post about it. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The first series dropped on 20th March 2025, the second and final series just premiered on 11th September—perfect timing for me, actually, since we're properly into the darker months now and I'm absolutely living for it. Two series to cover Rise of the Wolf, then they're done. Because apparently Netflix thinks therianthropic political drama doesn't have legs. Their loss, really.

What Actually Works (More Than I Expected)

Let me get the good stuff out of the way first, because there's genuinely quite a bit to like here. Netflix didn't completely cock this up, which honestly surprised me. The fundamental story beats are there–Drew's journey from "oh shit I'm a werewolf" to "oh shit I'm THE werewolf" translates brilliantly to animation, helped by the fact that Curtis Jobling himself worked on the scripts alongside Julie Bower, Celia Morgan, and Andrew Burrell.

And honestly? As someone for whom Halloween is a state of mind rather than a calendar date, this hits the sweet spot perfectly. We're talking werewolves, political intrigue, dark forests, and proper Gothic atmosphere–all the things that make any month worth living for when you've got the right mindset. The series captures that deliciously dark fantasy vibe that makes me want to light candles and settle in for proper atmospheric storytelling.

The character designs are absolutely spot-on. Netflix understood that in Jobling's world, therianthropes' human forms reflect their animal nature, and they nailed the visual storytelling. King Leopold with his golden mane-hair screaming "LION" (because Leo = lion, and I'm apparently the sort of person who gets excited about etymological easter eggs). Queen Amelie with that distinctive white hair matching her White Wolf nature. It's the kind of attention to detail that makes my pattern-recognition brain very happy.

Plus, they got Baron Ewan of Haggard's name right, which honestly surprised me. Being a fellow Ewan, I'm probably more picky about this than most–I've suffered through plenty of mispronunciations from native English speakers over the years (though I'll forgive non-native speakers since the phonology isn't obvious from the spelling). With Brits on the cast, you'd hope they wouldn't mangle Scottish names, but you never know with adaptations these days.

And here's what really gets me: the werewolf is the hero. Not the monster, not the tortured antihero who needs to be "cured"–Drew's lycanthropy is his strength, even when it comes with complexity and moral weight. In a genre that usually treats werewolves as either mindless beasts or tragic figures, having Drew embrace his nature whilst still grappling with what it means is genuinely refreshing. Perfect viewing for those of us who appreciate the darker aesthetic year-round.

The Technical Stuff (Which I Actually Loved)

I really need to gush about the animation and sound design here. IMDb's got it at 6.6, but honestly, that feels low to me. The animation has this gritty but polished look that works perfectly for the therianthropic world they're building–there's a proper darkness to it that scratches my Gothic-loving brain in all the right ways. The British animation team absolutely nailed the tone.

And can we talk about the sound design? I'm a complete sucker for electronic beat-heavy music, and whoever did the soundtrack knew exactly what they were doing. It adds this modern edge to what could've been a very traditional fantasy setting, and it works brilliantly. There's something about those electronic beats mixed with werewolf howls that just works.

There's also something genuinely refreshing about having a British cast for a British book series. In a sea of American rehashes and adaptations that strip away regional character, Wolf King actually feels authentically British. The accents, the sensibilities, the way characters interact–it all feels right for Jobling's world. No fake American accents trying to sound "more accessible" or whatever bollocks usually happens.

The voice acting works, the action sequences don't make me cringe, and the pacing is solid. They managed to flesh out the therianthropic world without it feeling rushed, which is impressive when you're cramming an entire novel into two series. Plus, I'm a sucker for the wordplay with all the therianthrope species names–there's something deeply satisfying about how they weave the animal characteristics into the political dynamics.

The Bits That Made Me Go "Hmm"

Now for the nitpicky stuff (shocking, I know). The most notable character change is how they've handled Ewan's portrayal. In the adaptation, he comes across as simply old and vulnerable, which works fine for the story they're telling. It's a straightforward approach that gets the job done, though I can't shake the feeling there might have been more nuance in the books. Then again, I'm currently deep in Book 3 politics, so my memory of early character details is probably unreliable at best.

There's also Bergan, who's been race-swapped from the ginger character described in the books to a Black actor in the series. Since I actually discovered the adaptation first before diving into the books, I was initially thrown off when I hit that description in the text–but honestly? I've come to really enjoy the diversity in the cast. It's one of those changes where the adaptation improves on the source material, even if it might catch book-first readers off-guard.

The Real Tragedy: Netflix Being Netflix

This is what actually bothers me most. Netflix adapting only Rise of the Wolf is like... imagine if someone adapted The Hunger Games and then just stopped after the first book. Technically you've got a complete story, but you're missing the entire bloody point.

I'm currently watching Drew navigate the political clusterfuck of Book 3, and there's so much world-building, character development, and sheer therianthropic chaos that'll never see the screen. The later books expand the cast, explore different regions of Lyssia, dive into the politics of various Werelords–it's brilliant stuff that deserves adaptation.

But no, we get two series covering one book, then Netflix buggers off. Typical. They pulled the same shit with The Order–perfectly decent show, decent following, but apparently not decent enough for Netflix's algorithm overlords.

Final Verdict: I Actually Really Loved It

Look, here's the thing–despite all my moaning about scope limitations, I genuinely enjoyed Wolf King. The world-building feels fleshed out, the various characters actually work on screen, and there's something deeply satisfying about watching therianthropic politics play out with proper attention to the different species dynamics. Plus, it's got that perfect Gothic atmosphere that makes it ideal viewing for those of us who appreciate the darker aesthetic regardless of what month it happens to be.

The problem isn't that it's bad–it's that Rise of the Wolf is just the setup for everything that makes the series actually interesting, and knowing we won't get more is what's frustrating.

If you're new to the world, it's a solid introduction that'll probably make you want to read the books–which is exactly what happened to me after Series 1. If you come to it as a book fan, I imagine it's both satisfying and maddening–good enough to appreciate what they got right, limited enough to make you crave what comes next.

Basically, if you watch this and think "huh, neat therianthrope politics," do yourself a favour and grab the books. There's so much more complexity, character development, and therianthropic world-building that the show barely scratches the surface of.

And yes, I'm absolutely the sort of person who gets this worked up about therianthrope adaptations. Don't judge me, I contain multitudes (mostly involving lycanthropy and an understanding that the right atmosphere transcends arbitrary calendar divisions.)