Monster House 2006

[5.3/10] I’m not entirely sure what the point of Monster House is. If it’s to impart some kind of moral about growing up, it fails to do the work necessary to support it. If it’s supposed to be a raw, kid-friendly fright fest, it stumbles there as well. If it’s just supposed to be a lark or a dose of light entertainment, then it’s far too dull and unengaging to qualify. It’s not clear, even after ninety trying minutes, what this movie wanted to accomplish, which isn’t a good sign.

The best thing the movie has going for it is its animating central idea, and maybe the only purpose is to realize that high concept premise. What if a house weren’t just haunted, but instead, was a living thing with a mouth and limbs and a uvula, such that it could terrorize a local neighborhood? That’s a fun concept for a horror movie, especially one focused on kids who can investigate the local homestead and try to convince the usual array of skeptical adults of its hidden powers.

There’s even an encouraging dose of weirdness to the piece. The film’s central reveal is that the house contains the spirit of its owner’s dearly departed wife. The former “giantess” from a traveling circus fell into its foundation while the house was still being built, after she mistook some standard youthful Halloween pranking for the jeers of circus crowds, causing the house to attack interlopers of all sorts. That has a bizarre sort of campfire ghost story energy that could be charming if the movie spent more time on that and less on preteen hijinks.

It’s even the best part of the film visually! The film finds creative uses for the floorboards, chandeliers, flora, and runner to make a suitably spooky visage for the old house. When it breaks free from its moorings, chases after our young heroes, or reconstructs itself after a brief destruction by bulldozer, there’s some superb design work and clear thought put into how a giant house would react and move. If this was a short film, more squarely focused on the surprisingly animate house and its cantankerous yet tender-hearted protector, you could envision it as a far more endearing success.

Unfortunately, everything Monster House’s creative time tries to build around that intriguing concept is the pits. Minor trifles like story, character, theme, and most of all comedy are butchered or scrambled in the build to the big reveal and set piece. This is one of those kids movies where there’s very little progression or setup and payoff. Instead, the writers assume that it’s OK for things to just kind of happen for little-to-no-reason, because the kiddos won’t be able to follow the story anyway, right? The result is a movie that simultaneously feels like a series of disconnected sketches and detritus as well as one never ending scene. The pacing and structure makes this a chore anytime the house isn’t attacking someone.

That could be forgiven if there were laughs to be had here or the characters were fun to spend time with. Pretty much everyone in this movie is either a stock archetype, an annoying presence, or both. Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing in a kids’ movie, but there’s no nothing to any of these characters. They’re just a collection of tics and stock stereotypes and annoying shtick. The movie also can’t wring any chuckles out of the situation, with scads of groaners and like-a-jokes that fall flat throughout. For a film whose selling point for me was Dan Harmon’s writing credit, there’s none of the sterling character work or big laughs that his other work can boast.

And yet, somehow, that’s not the worst part of the movie. Plenty of similar films with meh storytelling, humor, and character, can at least offer some stellar animation. Monster House, on the other hand, is at its scariest not when its haunted structure is terrorizing local residents, but when its major players are trying to move and emote.

The character designs here are ugly to begin with, giving each person in the film large caricature-looking heads that don’t seem to match their bodies. There’s an over-expressiveness to the way the faces are animated that is off putting. But worse yet, as Robert Zemeckis’s producing credit portends, there’s also some quasi-mocap animation going on, which gives each of the characters an unnerving, animated corpse vibe that makes the movie creepy when it’s not trying to be. The titular house is situated squarely within the uncanny valley.

That’s a problem, because much of the script involves aimless wheel-spinning and time spent just hanging out with these characters. So if they’re (1.) annoying (2.) creepy to look at, and (3.) the seventeenth most interesting element of the movie, that leaves most of the runtime feeling like a slog. The screenplay is riddled with flab, from confabs with a bad boy-chasing babysitter, interludes with a local video game lore expert, and interludes with the local keystone cops that contribute little, if anything, to the story, and so are only there for flavor. Unfortunately, they have more in common with years-old Halloween candy in that department.

But that’s fine since even when it’s treading water, the story here doesn’t make much sense. Characters fight and fall in love in a matter of minutes. The major players arrive at conclusions as to what will slow or kill the house with logic that is thin at best. And the most interesting part of the movie -- how the house came to be and its connection to Mr. Nebbercracker -- gets the short shrift, rendering the emotional payoffs the film tries to gin up in its final act entirely unavailing.

DJ and Spencer kiss. Why? DJ and Mr. Nebbercracker suddenly understand one another and become friends. Why? DJ decides that he’s no longer interested in trying to grow up so fast. Why? The movie doesn’t have any satisfying answers to these questions. Its creative team just knows these are the sorts of emotional highs that come at the end of other Spielberg/Amblin-affiliated entertainment, and so tosses them in whether it’s earned them or not.

If this was just a wacky tale about a living house, with a much shorter runtime, it might be worth watching. As is, Monster House is a movie without purpose. It doesn’t work as a kid adventure. It doesn’t work as light horror. It doesn’t work as comedy. And it doesn’t even work as a story. For a film built on such a shoddy foundation, I can only hope it stays condemned.