Rob Zombie has never abided by the adage “one for them, one for me” in his filmmaking career. Every one of Zombie’s films is distinctly his and only his, but The Munsters may be the most “for me” movie in his filmography.
The movie serves as a prequel to the short-lived but well-loved 1960s sitcom of the same name. It tells how this family of vampires and a Frankensteinian monster came to live in the United States. It’s unclear exactly when the movie takes place as there are references to Dirty Harry, all television is in black and white, and no architecture looks newer than 1860. But the inexplicable time period contributes to its greatest strength: an overabundance of style.
A Visual Feast
From the first second, The Munsters announces itself as a highly stylized film. It opens with the classic monochrome Universal production logo with black and white flickering strips of film on the sides of the screen to make up for the space left by the logo’s 4:3 aspect ratio.
As the logo gives way to the world of the film, we see two men loot a crypt for the corpse of a famous pianist. Zombie and cinematographer Zoran Popovic light the sequence by the moving lanterns casting a warm orange hue across the set. That warmth is perhaps what most characterizes the movie’s aesthetic. Sure, it’s a movie about monsters and primarily takes place at night, but it’s all so gorgeously bright, even when it’s dark.
As the movie continues, exterior shots are lit by colorful neon signs and stage lights set in the ground around the castle where much of the film’s action takes place. The interior images offer gorgeous hues of blues, reds, and greens across the gaudy sets. And to be clear, I mean “gaudy” in the most complimentary way. The sets are works of pop art overstuffed with trinkets, flashing lights, and more visual information than the eye can take in.
But lighting these overstuffed sets in beautifully colorful hues isn’t enough stylistic flare for Zombie, who always keeps the camera moving. The camera twists into innumerable dutch angles, moves up and down stairs, and slow zooms and slightly pans during scenes where characters converse while sitting still.
The film also offers split screens divided with bright pink or blue lightning bolts. And transitions often come in fun shapes, including bats, coffins, hearts, and more. It’s a style that’s so aggressive it could be exhausting if it weren’t so much a central part of why the movie exists.
Pitch-Perfect Performances
The film follows the creation of Herman Munster (Jeff Daniel Phillips) at the hands of Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang (Richard Brake) and Herman’s subsequent romance with Lily (Sheri Moon Zombie). That first scene in the cemetery introduces us to Wolfgang and his not so trusted attendant Floop (Jorge Garcia), who immediately set the tone for the performances in the film.
Brake is especially captivating as he over-enunciates in his faux-English accent and pushes the elasticity of his face during Wolfgang’s abrupt mood swings. But the best performance comes from Sheri Moon Zombie, who is incredibly charming. She holds her eyes wider than seems humanly possible and delivers every line with a specific clarity that somehow falls between monotone and sing-song. The way she moves her body is overly theatrical, but she inhabits this movement so well that the stilted awkwardness appears almost natural and certainly confident.
Jeff Daniel Phillips and Daniel Roebuck, who plays Lily’s father, The Count, are also entirely on the movie’s level, particularly when Herman belly laughs at his own jokes. But their scenes waffle between funny despite the characters and painfully unfunny. While Herman is meant to be a lousy comedian, it’s still disappointing that the film spends so much time on humor that induces groans more than laughs.
Who Needs a Plot?
Perhaps ironically, The Munsters’ most significant flaw is the plot that ties the film to the TV show. It begins as a subplot about Lily’s brother Lester (Tomas Boykin), who is in debt to one of the Count’s ex-wives who desperately wants to get ahold of his castle. But the movie’s end, this narrative is perhaps the most significant plot element after Herman and Lily’s romance.
The introduction of this narrative feels distracting from that central romance. While it becomes clear that this storyline is necessary for the movie to serve as a prequel to the show, it still falls a bit short of the mark as its own storyline in the film. But it also highlights that The Munsters is most successful as a hang-out movie. One that allows viewers to soak in the stylistic feast Zombie has served and enjoy the performers’ commitment in a film where even the smallest performance is at an eleven. Luckily, it spends most of its time in that mode.
7/10 SPECS
The Munsters is now streaming on Netflix.
Check out our selections for the best movies on Netflix.
This article was produced and syndicated by Wealth of Geeks.
Kyle Logan studied philosophy and now constantly overthinks music and movies.
He’s a film and television critic and general pop culture writer who has written for Cultured Vultures, Chicago Film Scene, Castle of Chills, and Filmotomy. Kyle has covered virtual film festivals including the inaugural Nightstream festival in 2020 and the 2021 Fantasia Film Festival. Kyle is interested in horror films, animation, Star Wars, and Adventure Time, as well as older genre films written and directed by queer people and women, particularly those from the 1970s and 80s. Along with writing, Kyle organizes a Queer Film Challenge on Letterboxd.
