Editorials
Why “Monsters” is Still One of the All-Time Best Horror Anthology Shows [TV Terrors]
Horror and science fiction have always been a part of the television canvas, and constant attempts have been made over the years to produce classic entertainment. Some have fallen by the wayside, while others became mainstream phenomena. With “TV Terrors,” we take a look back at the many genre efforts from the 80’s, 90’s, and 00’s, exploring some shows that became cult classics, and others that sank into obscurity.
This month we revisit the nostalgic charms of late 80s/early 90s series “Monsters.”
- Aired from 1988 – 1991
- Aired in Syndication
The 1980s were filled with an abundance of great anthology horror both in theaters and especially on television. Even when the series were considered failures like “Amazing Stories,” they still managed to age pretty well. One of the most unique anthology horror series of the eighties (and one of my top five anthology horror series ever) is “Monsters.”
Developed by Richard P. Rubinstein (Creepshow, Tales from the Darkside, Pet Sematary, Dawn of the Dead), “Monsters” was a syndicated anthology horror show that often told short form stories that delved in either straight faced horror or dark comedy horror. “Monsters” has one of the most interesting opening intros of all time, as the camera pans down to a normal suburban household one evening. What we assume is going to be a normal nuclear family is actually a suburban family of monsters.
They’re preparing for family night (monsters have those too!), and much to their surprise their favorite show “Monsters” happens to appear on television. Despite never really changing a thing about this prologue, it’s surprising how re-watchable this opening is as there are so many subtle nuances, including the strong monster make up and the tongue in cheek humor.
“Monsters” had one mission and that was that every episode had to feature a monster (or monsters). There was never a single episode that didn’t have some kind of beast or creepy crawly in it. Despite the concept demanding the writers concoct ways to introduce new monsters, the series was pretty fantastic and almost always delivered. As mentioned, “Monsters” was a show that leaned heavily in to dark horror comedy, or just straight faced horror. When it was tongue in cheek, it managed to be very clever, but when it offered up straight faced tales of terror, the series excelled at being pretty scary.
Even today a lot of my favorite episodes from the show give me the willies. Some of my all time favorite episodes include “Cellmates,” centered on a spoiled rich American man who is jailed in South America for hitting a kid with his car. Expecting to be bailed out and rescued by his father’s lawyer, he realizes that he may not make it out as his mate in the next cell may be something otherworldly. This is a great, often creepy look at an affluent racist man getting what’s coming to him. The darkly comic “Small Blessings” works like It’s Alive as a sitcom focusing on the domestic life of a young couple (Kevin Nealon and Julie Brown) caring for their mutated flesh eating baby, Eric.
As people around the neighborhood begin turning up dead, the exhausted mother wonders if there’s a psychopath on the loose, or if Eric is going out at night to eat. This one is pretty fun in all of its demented humor, and includes a very early appearance from David Spade.
“The Hole” is one of the many Post-Vietnam horror tales from the decade involving a platoon of American soldiers that are forced to raid an underground tunnel, hoping to garner some information on the enemy. While in there, they come across a wounded Vietnamese Soldier who warns them that the dead are lurking within the walls, and are ready to take anyone that enters the hallowed ground.
Tense and claustrophobic, this is a classic horror tale that feels ripped right out of EC Comics. My favorite episode though is the bleakest of the series, “The Waiting Game.” Centered on two soldiers watching over a nuclear bunker overnight, the two stir crazy men are horrified when unexplained circumstances force them to launch nuclear warheads from the silo. Setting off a chain of nuclear explosions around the country, they learn that they’re draped in nuclear winter with the bunker their only safe haven.
As they fight off boredom and anxiety, they begin to realize that someone or something is lurking outside in the darkness. Before long, they realize something horrible just might have survived the apocalypse. Even worse, it’s trying to lure them out. This is a pitch black horror tale filled with biting tension and some top notch performances. It’s all topped off by an absolutely perfect and bleak final scene. I vividly recall watching “The Waiting Game” as a kid back in 1990, and it kept me up all night.
“Monsters” was considerably lower in budget than anthologies like “Creepshow” and “Tales from the Darkside,” so many of the episodes were confined to one setting, often feeling a lot like stage productions. Nevertheless, the series excelled in unique horror stories that made great use of its resources. The production crew also offered up a plethora of creative monsters like sentient lab rats, subterranean mutants, a vengeful Indigenous deity, a man eating bed, and a monster that feeds on cancer patients.
After ending in 1990, “Monsters” lived on for a long time in syndication on cable television, garnering a long run in the 1990s with repeats airing constantly on The Sci Fi Channel (Now Syfy), and in the aughts on (the now defunct) Chiller TV. “Monsters” was very much in the tradition of “Creepshow” and “Tales from the Darkside” in that it owed a lot of its twists and mood to EC Comics and their offbeat horror stories. The production wasn’t always spectacular, but the series still holds up shockingly well in the annals of horror anthologies.
Is It On DVD/Blu-ray/Streaming? In 2014, Sony released a great DVD set of the entire series. It’s sadly out of print at the moment. However, the entirety of “Monsters” can be found streaming on Amazon Prime Video, and The Roku Channel.
“Elevated Horror.” Of all the combinations in the English language, that one is the most insufferable.
It represents almost a decade of scary movies that, for the most part, took themselves too seriously. Horror responds to the moment, so its “why so serious” lean makes sense as we scuttle through the “worst of times” equation of Charles Dickens’ famous opening lines. But there’s still an opening and a need for a lighter approach; one that not only has fun with its audience but takes the piss out of a genre that is seemingly letting its newfound “respectability” go to its head.
Wes Craven believed devotees see horror films to let out their fears one primal scream at a time. At their core, these movies are roller coasters; they bring us as close to the edge as possible before pulling us back into a safety net of reality. The need for a bigger and badder coaster increases during times when the size of that net decreases.
There’s a thrill that comes from imagining being in a foot race with a madman, or outthinking the hordes of zombies on the other side of the door, plus the scavenger humans coming behind them. There’s even a rush that comes from imagining how one might deal with possession to see good triumph over evil in the end. It’s all about building tension and releasing it through catharsis. That cathartic release usually sounds like screams followed by laughter, which signals relief. Genre heavy hitters over the past 10 years offered very little of that respite when the credits rolled. Films like Hereditary, The Witch, Talk to Me, and even Smile (pick one) keep that tension going after the screen fades to black.
Hereditary
As the genre became obsessed with creating trauma metaphors, that lack of release made sense. Anyone with even a small sample size of traumatic experiences knows those emotions don’t magically resolve themselves in an allotted run time. But how much trauma can one take? Especially when there’s a mess going on outside that few of us can escape from. Movies offer that off-ramp, no matter how short.
Everything can’t be, nor should it be, “elevated.” Audiences need thoughtful explorations of life’s ills via monsters as much as they need murdering masked maniacs with kitchen knives. And no, it doesn’t have to go any deeper than that. Sometimes, a knife is just a knife, and it’s still worth our time and respect. As weird as it sounds, that simplicity is comforting not in spite of the trauma but because of it.
The worst of times should manifest more than just anguish. People need to laugh just as much as they need to think seriously about this moment in time. Even the Scream franchise forgot the meta rock upon which it built its church when the latest foray sacrificed the subtle comedy for serious drama. Scary Movie returned at the perfect moment. It provides the necessary laughs, but it’s not a cure-all.
This isn’t a call for Scary Movie imitators but a return to a mainstream landscape where Killer Klowns from Outer Space sat with The Serpent and the Rainbow, nestled neatly with the latest Nightmare on Elm Street, which took nothing away from The Vanishing.
They Live
Even They Live, John Carpenter’s horror sci-fi satire sandwich, kept its tongue firmly in cheek while discussing serious ideas still relevant in 2026. Yes, a film about aliens taking over the world through subliminal messaging only visible through coded sunglasses is, in fact, a tad silly. Carpenter understood that mainstream horror can’t become so self-important that it never looks itself in the mirror and laughs at that inherent silliness.
The thing is, horror historically excels at poking fun at itself. Most of the Scream franchise, The Cabin in the Woods, or The Blackening show adoration without kowtowing. They recognize tropes and trappings but invert them for an audience already in on the joke, but one that also finds solace in said conventions. This keeps the genre on its toes; once something gets parodied, it’s usually time to evolve. That breeds new ideas and fresh filmmakers, which not only strengthen the genre’s collective voice but also amplify it.
Get Out, as “elevated” as some critics want us to believe it is, is a cathartic, populist scary movie that spoke to an untapped audience rather than speaking down to them. Backrooms is one of the biggest horror hits in years, partially because it’s fine-tuned for modern-day teenagers instead of their parents. Movies like these tell everyone the genre is open for business; open for innovation and, yeah, open for new ways in which people can lovingly poke fun at with a wink and a nudge.
Horror needs dread as much as it needs laughter.
Catharsis is just as important as tension, and pulpy populism has the same merit as more high-brow material. Respectability shouldn’t come at the expense of an experience akin to walking through a haunted house. At a time when joy seems in short supply, horror should look to its past to map out its future, and make things just a tad brighter for audiences.
Backrooms
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