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Why ‘Monster House’ is One of the Most Perfect Movies You Can Watch on Halloween

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A single leaf, painted with diminishing hues of brown, red and orange clings to its branch for a moment before detaching in the wind and becoming another passenger of the fall season’s blustery channels. Removed from its source of life, it’s carried to its resting place with elegance and grace, all the while accompanied by the wavering tonalities of a young girl’s carefree song. Her tricycle carries her bumping along the sidewalk below as she greets the day and embraces the swaths of autumn which have bathed her neighborhood in the vibrant colors that accompany the conclusion of life’s brilliant, but brief, cycle. The leaf passes and lands, coming to a stop on the sidewalk before her and a looming, ominous structure that the little girl is clearly afraid to pass— two symbols to represent the season, calling equal attention to the beauty and innocence inherent within it as well as the death and decay so synonymous with the months leading into winter’s icy grasp.

Something as intoxicating as it is off-putting. Something monstrous.

October 1st carried with it a thousand happy excitements, each racing through my young mind as the crisp autumn air ushered in one of my favorite seasons. Thoughts of fun-sized Snickers bars, cardboard skeletons with articulating limbs and nighttime walks to admire the neighbors’ elaborate decorations raced across my consciousness, but nothing got me as excited for the fall-laced holiday as the prospect of getting to watch my favorite seasonal outings.

We didn’t own very many VHS tapes growing up, so when it came to Halloween specials and movies, I relied heavily on what was airing on TV. The video store was good for some things, of course, although come October you were hard pressed to find one of their maybe two beat up copies of Hocus Pocus (1993) or Ernest Scared Stupid (1991). No, you were better off checking the TV guide and planning your schedule accordingly, every kid knew that.

Whether it be the Rugrats Halloween special or the latest Halloween themed commercial from whatever seasonal Happy Meal toy McDonald’s was featuring that year, it was seeing the season come to life onscreen that put me most in the spooky spirit. Still, it was surprisingly rare that a new classic would be added to the ranks of Linus’ musings about the Great Pumpkin or Garfield’s pirate-themed trick-or-treating adventure. Unlike Christmas, Halloween was not a holiday that had the entertainment industry scrambling to add to its filmic repertoire year after year. So it was, even at a young age, I became acutely aware of the screen’s Halloween offerings, always on the hunt for the next movie, show or special to add to my must-watch favorites come every October.

Perhaps that is why I was so enamored with Monster House (2006) the moment I heard its title and logline. The premise was simple, summarized in its two word moniker, and without seeing a single frame I could immediately imagine the feel of the thing. The trailer seemed to confirm that for which I had most hoped: a modern take on the classic Amblin style, capturing the Spielbergian sense of childlike wonder along with all of the coming-of-age trappings that go with it. A Hilarious, spooky and exciting adventure revolving around the strange, supernatural goings on that only seem possible on Halloween night.

Monster House began lumbering to life almost a decade before its release, when prolific writers Dan Harmon and Rob Schrab pitched it to Robert Zemeckis’ production company, ImageMovers. The idea was simple and encapsulated by its title, revolving around some trick-or-treaters and a murderous house, haunted by the ghost of a mean old man who died of a heart attack on Halloween night.

Speaking about it on the podcast Best Movies Never Made, Rob Schrab describes how the original script was intended to be live action, with the house being brought to life through a combination of practical and digital effects. The animatronic house was intended to mirror the physiology of its spirited counterpart more closely, adopting slimy interiors that presented different rooms as different sections of the body with far more grotesque accuracy than seen in the finished film. Skin as wallpaper, a kitchen dressed as a stomach, a plumbing system comprised of slithering intestines and even a giant brain in the upstairs bedroom, Monster House was always intended to be a throwback to the classic sci-fi monster flicks that came before it just as much as it was an homage to the Amblin way of storytelling popularized in the 1980s.

Still, despite the thought that the house may even be able to be realized by a man in a suit for the film’s explosive climax, the project was shelved under the weight of the lack of technology at the time to appropriately bring its titular threat to life. In the six or seven years that passed while dust gathered atop Monster House’s title page, technology did indeed advance and Zemeckis’ company invested significant funds into motion-capture technology. While the film may not have seemed like a viable option for live action, in an animated realm, anything was possible.

A new creative team was brought on board, with Gil Kenan at the helm as director and Pamela Pettler penning a new take on the original screenplay. While the film would utilize the same motion-capture technology used to create The Polar Express (2004), the creators would adopt a different approach, moving away from attempts at photo-realism and crafting an exaggerated, hyper-reality that more closely evoked the stop-motion worlds of Tim Burton.

The film was shot on a stage consisting mostly of wire frames and under the lens’ of hundreds of cameras, capturing every angle of every movement of the actors. Garbed in tight black suits and fitted with bobbles of various sizes, the star studded cast performed each scene in a vacuum, separated from the autumnal vibrancy presented onscreen by the stark, computerized reality of their Tron-esque soundstage. This even extended to Kathleen Turner’s turn as the monstrous structure, the actress herself performing the chaotic movements of the dislodged home seen during the climax.

From there, the shots were composited, colored and mapped out, a handheld wand allowing for cinematographer Xavier Grobet to give camera movements a human touch that might otherwise be absent from a film built inside of a computer. The picture was put together with craft and care, every creative involved focused on bringing to life a movie that not only embodied the spirit of the Halloween season, but the experience of growing up.

The resulting movie emerged as an extraordinary testament to all of those elements which helped birth it, from concept to creation. Although the picture deviated from Dan Harmon and Rob Schrab’s original vision, it presented a world infatuated by those things which inhabited it: classic monster movies, Amblin coming-of-age stories and all of the wonders of October 31st.

The story follows DJ (Mitchel Musso) and his charmingly juvenile partner Chowder (Sam Lerner) as they attempt to discern what’s really happening in the spooky house across the street, occupied by old man Nebbercracker (Steve Buscemi). Nebbercracker is a frightening presence on the street, evidenced from the start when he strips a small girl of her tricycle and sends her away in tears. Desperate for maturity, DJ rejects the idea of trick-or-treating in lieu of spying on Nebbercracker’s activities, resulting in a confrontation and subsequent heart-attack that leaves Nebbercracker’s unmoving body left to be carted away to the hospital. It’s then that the house awakens.

The film is populated by quirky peripheral characters, fleshing out the tumultuous landscape of being not quite a kid and not yet a teenager, including a rebellious babysitter voiced by Maggie Gyllenhaal, her rocker boyfriend voiced by Jason Lee and even an pudgy pizza delivery boy, video game legend and scholar of the occult played by Jon Heder. Soon the two are joined by Jenny (Spencer Locke), causing a schism between the boys while simultaneously illustrating the true nature of their no longer prepubescent immaturity, and before long the three are embroiled in a battle to the death with the most dangerous haunted house imaginable.

Director Gil Kenan and cinematographer Xavier Grobet take full advantage of the animated medium, following a leaf as it winds inextricably amongst tree branches and glides purposefully through the air, tracking down chimneys and flying through windows to find the person at the other end of a pair of binoculars peering inside. There’s a sense of urgency to every shot and a purposefulness to each handheld adjustment as the characters bicker and scheme that drives the film forward and imbues the goings on with the sort of life that the film is so keen on imposing on inanimate objects.

As the night wears on and the house begins to claim its victims— even a neighborhood dog proves not to be safe— the trio realizes they are truly on their own. Still, the horrors of entering the living house and traversing the glowing green spiritual presence contained beneath the floorboards in an effort to destroy it reveal not salvation but the beginnings of an explanation. For, buried in the basement is the large concrete outline of Constance, the fabled deceased wife of Nebbercracker, said to have been eaten by the old man long ago. Thickening the plot and offering a face to the sentient location, the myth seeks to find a human core at the center of the monstrous threat.

What makes Constance’s story so fascinating is not the punishing meanness from which it derived, rather the misguided sweetness by which it was carried forth. Returning from the hospital, Nebbercracker reveals that he rescued Constance from a circus life built around confinement and cruelty, only to have her perish during the construction of the infamous house, what was to be the foundation of their happy life together. Ultimately, her mistrust of others doomed her to a sticky end as she fell into still pouring cement when Nebbercracker had to stop her from attacking some neighborhood children attempting to lob more tricks than treats one Halloween night long ago.

Nebbercracker loved his wife and cared for her still, even in death. He watched out for her. And he watched out for the neighborhood children that may have inadvertently crossed her path. His hatred was a mask, his ugly persona a defense mechanism, a sacrifice to ensure the safety of the innocent as well as the endurance of his beloved, whom he was never able to save.

DJ’s desire to shed adolescence in the stead of maturity is answered with a complicated tragedy of love, loss and sacrifice, culminating in a confrontation that sees Constance’s house tear itself from its roots and attack the protagonists in a nearby quarry, requiring all three children to muster up their courage and defend not only the town but the old man they had so recently believed to be the true threat. And, in so doing, the characters not only acknowledge the value of the youth they still have but the weight of the impending development and growth that is already well on its way into their lives.

Monster House concludes not with the sad reality of what has transpired, but the joyous release and catharsis those events have brought about. Constance is not defeated, she is freed. Nebbercracker is not abandoned, he is embraced. What began as a race to maturity, concludes with the leisurely stroll of youth, reminding the young protagonists that to come of age, one has to live. Even the babysitter’s jerk of a boyfriend once had a red kite, something he loved, something that made him happy— it’s when people forget their youth that maturity loses its meaning, growth is stunted and age begets a hollow existence that stamps out imagination and saps the joy from existence.

Halloween is a night of experience, possibility and explosive creative joy. It’s a night that peers into the blackness surrounding the spirited unknown, where secrets lie uncovered and anything is possible. From its hilarious characterizations, gorgeous design and cinematography and darkly exuberant, playful score by Douglas Pipes, Monster House embodies this sentiment and stands firmly alongside the classics of the Halloween screen.

Nothing seems to command any given holiday spirit more than the movies which best inhabit and subsequently define those occasions’ iconography and essence. While I lament the fact that I was not able to grow up watching Monster House alongside my annual viewings of Ernest Scared Stupid and Hocus Pocus, I am grateful for the children that now can. October 1st always felt like a holiday in its own right when I was a kid, the official day where I could start viewing my favorite faux-scary things. And, luckily for my kids, they don’t have to track down a TV guide to map out when and where they’ll be able to watch them.

It’s the day where a threshold is crossed. When the eerie and the macabre become the norm and not something to be hidden in the darkest corners of entertainment’s ever deepening attic. Horror is a wide and sweeping genre, containing countless titles to frighten and entertain during that crisp, cool month where the leaves die, fall and paint a picture in our backyards more beautiful than summer’s lush vegetation or winter’s freshly fallen snow. Precious few films manage to capture that special feeling only possible when you’re a kid heading out on Halloween night to see what the darkness might hold in store and Monster House is undoubtedly one of them.

What began with a leaf, a scary house and a crying little girl whose tricycle had been unceremoniously stripped away by an angry old man, concludes with the same little girl now dressed as a flower and trick-or-treating with confidence at the very same spot where her treasured item was stolen. The house is gone, but the old man is not, handing out those items he had snatched from the neighborhood children like some sort of spooky Santa, mining them from the ruins of his formerly haunted home. Death and decay is certainly synonymous with All Hallow’s Eve, but so is the beauty and innocence that accompanies the swirling awe wrapped up in the eternally fluctuating unknown. There is fear there, truly, but peace as well. Uncertainty. Growth. Redemption. A complex web that intertwines not only the vibrancy of the leaf and the forebodingness of the looming house but the youthful exuberance of the little girl’s flower costume and the gaping chasm where the terrible structure once stood as well.

It’s the kind of chilling exhilaration that intoxicates and off-puts in equal measure. Monstrous, yes, in every sense of the wondrous word.

Editorials

The 10 Scariest Moments in the ‘Ghostbusters’ Movie Franchise

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scariest Ghostbusters

WARNING: The following contains mild spoilers for the Ghostbusters franchise. 

Yes, Ghostbusters is a horror movie – gateway horror to be exact. Setting aside the fact that the title literally contains the word “ghost,” a foundational element of the scariest genre, the franchise follows a group of paranormal researchers who battle entities attacking from beyond the grave. After countless rewatches, the classic films and newer sequels may not scare us much anymore, but how many times have we as genre fans asserted that a film does not have to be “scary” to be considered horror?

Genre classification is nebulous and any film that centers on ghosts has a place in the sprawling house of horror. Yes, it’s true that most viewers over the age of thirteen will find more to laugh about than scream while watching a Ghostbusters film, but each entry contains a handful of terrifying moments. With Gil Kenan’s Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire uniting three generations of the parascientific warriors, perhaps it’s time to highlight the most frightening moments from each phase of this legendary franchise. 


Ghostbusters (1984)

A Haunted Library

scariest Ghostbusters movie

Ivan Reitman’s original film begins with a campfire tale come to life. We follow an unsuspecting librarian as she ventures deep into the stacks to reshelve a book. With her hair blowing from a spectral breeze, we watch a hardcover float across the aisle to the opposite shelf. A second book follows, but the librarian remains unaware. She finally notices the disturbance when card catalog drawers open on their own spewing cards into the air like literary geysers. She flees through the maze of narrow stacks only to come face to face with a mysterious force who blows her back with a powerful roar. We won’t see the Library Ghost (Ruth Oliver) until a later scene, but this introduction firmly positions the film that follows in the world of horror. On first watch, we can only speculate as to the ghost’s malevolence and whether or not the librarian has survived the encounter. It’s the perfect introduction to a world in which ghosts are not only real, they will pounce on unsuspecting humans at the drop of a … book. 

Shaky Ground

The original finale may not be the film’s most terrifying moment, but it has become the franchise’s most iconic image. When faced with choosing a form for Gozer (Slavitza Jovan), Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd) inadvertently conjures up an image from his childhood. Moments later, a set of once-cheery eyes peer through the skyscrapers. The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man towers over the city, stomping and destroying everything in its path. While there’s definitely something terrifying about a jovial mascot turned deadly killer, what happens moments before is arguably scarier. 

The Ghostbusters arrive at the luxury apartment building to throngs of adoring fans. Peter Venkman (Bill Murray) plays into this hero-worship and promises an easy solution to a supernatural problem. But before they can enter the building, lightning strikes the upper floors sending massive chunks of brick and cement raining down on the barricaded street. The ground begins to shake and a giant fissure swallows the entire team. It’s a destabilizing moment made all the more terrifying by its shocking reality. Speculation about the existence of ghosts may vary from person to person, but there’s no doubt that sinkholes are very real. It’s entirely possible that the ground we’re standing on right now could spontaneously begin to crumble, sucking us down into a seemingly bottomless void beneath the earth. 


Ghostbusters II (1989)

Runaway Baby

Ivan Reitman’s sequel begins with a sly update on the life of a beloved character as Dana Barrett (Sigourney Weaver) pushes a baby carriage containing her infant son Oscar (Henry and William Deutschendorf). When last we saw the attractive cellist, she was kissing Venkman in the wreckage of Gozer’s demise and the thought of this loveable lady’s man becoming a father may be more nerve-wracking than anything contained in the first film. We never learn much about Oscar’s real father, but we do discover that fate has a sinister plan for the adorable child. While Dana chats with her landlord, Oscar’s carriage rolls a few feet away. Dana reaches for the handle, but the buggy begins speeding down the sidewalk careening through the busy crowds. As if guided by unseen hands, the carriage twists and turns, then abruptly swerves into oncoming traffic. Cars honk and veer out of the way, but the racing carriage marks a collision course with an approaching bus. The wheels screech to a halt moments before what would surely be a deadly crash and Dana rushes to embrace her vulnerable child. This harrowing scene is likely to terrorize any parent who’s experienced the fear of trying to protect a baby in an unpredictable world.  

Sewer Screams

scariest Ghostbusters scene

While investigating the second film’s primary villain, Vigo the Carpathian (Wilhelm von Homburg), three of the Ghostbusters venture into the sewers hoping to find a growing river of slime. Ray, Winston (Ernie Hudson), and Egon (Harold Ramis) trek down an abandoned subway line while speculating about the hordes of cockroaches and rats they hear scurrying behind the walls. These vermin may be scary, but there are more malevolent monsters lurking in the dark. Ray and Egon both amuse themselves with the tunnel’s echo but Winston’s “hello” goes unanswered. Moments later, a demonic voice bellows his name from the dark end of the corridor. Waiting behind him is a severed head floating in the empty tunnel. As he tries to retreat, the team finds themselves surrounded by dozens of ghoulish heads that disappear faster than they materialized. Moments later, a ghostly train hurtles towards them, swallowing Winston in its spectral glow. Egon theorizes that something is trying to keep them from reaching their destination with effective scares designed to frighten the Ghostbusters and audience alike.  


Ghostbusters (2016)

Haunted Basement

Like its predecessor, Paul Feig’s remake opens with a spooky vignette. Garrett (Zach Woods) gives a tour of the Aldridge Mansion, a 19th century manor preserved in the middle of the busy city, and walks visitors through a troubling history of excess and cruelty. Hoping to inject a bit of excitement, he pauses near the basement door and tells the horrifying story of Gertrude Aldridge (Bess Rous), a wealthy heiress who murdered the house’s many servants. Hoping to avoid a public scandal, her family locked her in the basement and her restless spirit can still be heard trying to escape. Garrett triggers a trick candlestick to fly off the shelf, hinting at the spirit’s presence, but a late night incident shows that the deceased murderess may actually be lurking in her ancestral home. While closing up for the night, Garrett hears ominous noises from behind the barricaded door and watches the knob rattle against the heavy locks. An unseen attacker hurls him through the house and eventually drives him down the basement stairs to a sea of green slime pooling on the floor. The stairs crumble leaving the tour guide hanging on to the door frame for dear life as a spectral figure glides toward him with menacing hands outstretched. Once again, we won’t see the fully revealed ghost of Gertrude Aldridge until later in the film, but this terrifying opening sets the stage for a dangerous showdown with an army of the dead.

Mannequin On the Move

The scariest moment of the 2016 remake is arguably the vicious online hatred sparked well before the film’s release. In response to brutal comments posted to the first official trailer, the cast returned to film an additional scene in which they react to dehumanizing negativity. But another sequence may cut closer to the heart of this upsetting experience. The Ghostbusters respond to a call at a concert venue and split up to cover more ground. Patty (Leslie Jones) enters what she calls a “room full of nightmares” and immediately reverses course to avoid a multitude of mannequins stacked haphazardly in the dark. As she walks out the door, one of the faceless creatures turns its head her way. Walking on its own, this sentient prop follows her down the hall, pausing the moment she turns around. Eventually breaking cover, the mannequin chases Patty down the hall to the rest of the team. They unleash their proton packs and make quick work of the gargoyle-like ghost. Though this connection is surely unintentional, it’s a terrifying parallel to a faceless monster sneaking up to attack a woman simply trying to do her job. 


Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Smoke and Monsters

While Ghostbusters: Afterlife is nowhere near as scary as the horror films playing in the local summer school science class, Jason Reitman’s legacyquel does contain its share of frights. The film opens with a harrowing scene as we join Egon (Oliver Cooper) in the last moments of his life. Racing away from a sinister mountain, Egon’s truck collides with an unseen force and flips upside down in a field of corn. The elderly scientist races back to his crumbling farmhouse with a trap in hand, intent on ensnaring this invisible being. Unfortunately, the power fails and Egon has no choice but to hide the trap under the floorboards and wait. He sits in a comfortable old chair as a horrifying cloud of smoke drifts in behind him, momentarily forming the shape of a fanged beast. Demonic hands grab him from within the chair, likely causing the heart attack that will be listed on his death certificate. But his abandoned PKE meter below the chair activates, reminding us that Egon may be deceased, but he is far from gone.  

The Terror Returns

scariest Ghostbusters moments

Ghostbusters: Afterlife turns out to be a touching tribute to Harold Ramis as his friends and family unite to complete the beloved scientist’s heroic mission. In addition to a tearjerker ending, Reitman also includes a bevy of callbacks to the original film. Not only do the Spenglers square off against the team’s first enemy, Gozer (Emma Portner), the nonbinary entity brings back the Terror Dogs that once possessed Dana Barret and Louis Tully (Rick Moranis). These demonic beasts first rear their ugly heads while Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) stops by Walmart to buy a midnight snack. While the horde of mini marshmallow men are eerie in their gleeful self-destruction, the ghostly canine that chases him through the store is the stuff of nightmares. Early iterations of this fearsome creature are hindered by ’80s-era special effects, but Reitman’s version feels frighteningly real. While Gary frantically tries to find his keys, this Terror Dog snarls at him from atop his car dashboard, leaving the endearing science teacher with no way to escape. 


Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire (2024)

Frozen Dinner 

After a film set in a small mountain town, the opening of Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire takes us back to New York circa 1904. We see the fire station in its early years as a horse-drawn carriage responds to a call. Arriving at the scene, a fireman tests the door for heat and watches in horror as his hand instantly freezes. Inside, they find jagged shards of ice surrounding and piercing a frozen dinner party. Guests are posed in various states of ice-covered surprise while an eerie record skips in the corner. A figure covered in brass armor we will come to know as a Fire Master is crouched in the corner clutching a mysterious orb. When the fireman touches this rippling sphere, the frozen diners’ heads begin to explode, an ominous precursor to the chilling threat awaiting the newest Ghostbusting team. 

Lights Out

If Ghostbusters: Afterlife featured the lo-fi gear of the 80s, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire hurls us into the future. Wealthy financier Winston Zeddemore has been surreptitiously building a new containment unit to relieve pressure on the original model along with a secret lab designed to study ghosts and haunted objects. In addition to fancy new gadgets and gear, this facility contains several captured spirits like a fanged Wraith and a speedy Possessor. Lab techs assure the astonished Spengler team that they are perfectly safe, but it seems they’ve overestimated the facility’s security. Lucky (Celeste O’Connor) and Lars (James Acaster) are studying the aforementioned orb when the power goes out, leaving them stranded in the dark with a cache of haunted objects. Not only does the ancient sphere hold a deadly spirit, the proton fields containing the captured ghosts have just been disabled. These terrifying creatures begin to drift through the walls toward the defenseless lab techs, perhaps at the bidding of an evil commander. Thankfully the generator kicks on in the nick of time, drawing the ghosts back into their cells. It’s a tense moment reminding us that no matter how charming the Ghostbusters may be, they still spend their days with evil spirits just waiting for an opportunity to wreak havoc.  


The Ghostbusters franchise excels at mixing humor and fear, practically setting the blueprint for the modern horror comedy. Moments from the original two films terrified a generation of gen-xers and elder millennials and newer iterations are currently scaring their kids. The fifth franchise installment effectively passes the proton pack torch to a new generation of Ghostbusters and we can only hope additional films will continue to induct future generations of Ghostbusters fans into the horror family as well. 

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire is now playing in theaters. Read our review.

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