Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark
Nothing is more powerful and meaningful than a good story, and Stephen Gammell and Alvin Schwartz offered plenty of those to 80s and 90s kids with "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark," a series of short horror stories that have haunted the minds of children for years. While I myself didn't grow up with those nightmarish tales, given that I was more of a Goosebumps lover, many children to this day fear the darkness that lies within those stories. Now those stories have been brought to life in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Directed by André Øvredal and produced by horror-guru Guillermo Del Toro, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark acts like a playful coloring book for any horror lover, embracing many of the scares and terror that was ever prevalent in the books to create a fun and exciting playground of horror and dread, even if the story and characters fail to fulfill the film's full potential.
It's Halloween night in 1968 America. Horror-lover Stella (Zoe Margaret Colletti) and her two bumbling buddies Chuck (Austin Zajur) and Augie (Gabriel Rush) are heading out to do some good ole' trick-or-treating, where they eventually run into Ramón (Michael Garza) after evading some resident bullies. They soon decide to visit an old haunted house that once belonged to Sarah Bellows, a young woman who was hidden from the rest of the world by her cruel and maniacal family. Trapped in her basement, she would often tell children scary stories through the walls, and it's said her ghost resides with the house as she continues to tell stories.
At the house, given her passionate fascination with everything horror, Stella finds Sarah's old book of scary stories and decides to take it with her. But that soon becomes a grave mistake as new stories start being written in the book on their own, with each story directly affecting each and every one of Stella's friends. Now Stella and her friends must put a stop to Sarah's scary stories before they are consumed by their own fears.
Given the structure of the story as a whole, the film relies on a similar style as Annabelle Comes Home, which came out earlier this summer. The difference, however, is that the sum of its parts are greater than the whole. Much of the fun and excitement comes from the individual horror segments our heroes must encounter. Much like Annabelle Comes Home, the greatest strength of the film is in the ingenuity, creativity, and horrific imagination of the scary stories, whether it's with the set pieces, the lighting, the cinematography, or the creature designs themselves.
Imagine if instead of a novel, Øvredal and Del Toro were given a coloring book or sketchpad and were told to just draw or color in whatever they like. That's what it feels like watching these scary stories play out. The film becomes less of how the plot will play out and more of when the next story will be told. That's where the anticipation, and therefore a lot of the excitement, lies as we await what other ghoulish entities will spring from the pages next (unless you've read the books).
For the most part, much of the film and the stories within are derivative of any other haunted house story we've seen before, with vengeful, restless spirits or cardboard-cutouts of horror characters. The film fails to break new ground or offer anything new, but Øvredal ensures that the product nonetheless remains energetic and upbeat the whole way through. With help from Guillermo Del Toro, Øvredal brings out the ethereal, the psychological, and the utterly grotesque through the stories being told. While some stories play out better than others, they all nonetheless leave their own impression for each act of the film. You go from a scarecrow named Harold to the Pale Lady to the Jangly Man, all of whom are brought to life with effective and unworldly visual effects that enhance the almost grotesque and ethereal nature of the creatures and stories being told.
Each of these demons, ghouls, and monsters haunt the inner psyches of our characters as they are the physical manifestations of their basic fears and anxieties and traumas. It would've been better, however, if we actually felt something about these characters and the journeys they go on. Right there is where the film's biggest fumbles and hurdles reveal themselves. As mentioned before, the fun happens with the scares, the monsters, and the suspenseful and tense sequences and set pieces. But when we move to the characters and the actual plot, it becomes tedious and rather uninteresting. Practically all the characters are cookie-cutters of your typical horror victims, i.e. the douchebag jock, the pretty diva, the one or two comic goofballs, and the cool bad boy. While all give perfectly adequate performances, only a few get to make some sort of an impression.
The one standout who gets to shine brightest is Stella, our lead heroine of the film. As someone who deeply admires the supernatural and horrific, Zoe Margaret Colletti provides enough charm and emotional gravitas to the role to make her a commendable and worthwhile lead. But as stated, the fun feels drained when we shift focus from the scares to the characters and the story at large. For instance, going back to Stella, part of her character involves the fact that her mother left her when she was little and lives alone with her father. This personal conflict is only touched upon about 2-3 times throughout the entire movie, making it feel like a simple add on that didn't really need to be there.
In a better movie, these would all be perfectly in tune with each other, one complimenting the other(s). But rather than feel balanced and like a unified whole, it feels like more care and thought was put into one corner (the scares and creatures) than the other (the characters and writing). The story takes a backseat in order to make room for the scares and the terror and, while that offers a lot of exciting moments and great scares, it does no service to the underlying themes or the characters at the center of the story.
This imbalance feels especially jarring when the film attempts to tie the horror elements into real-world themes, messages, and topics. Throughout we're reminded of the political and social climate of the era: Richard Nixon's presidency, the Vietnam War, casual racism and discrimination, etc. But none of it feels relevant to the story being told. While you can get a clear message about sending children to die and the concept of death's inevitability, it either feels ham-fisted and in-your-face or completely disconnected from and unnecessary for the story. There's no perfect middle ground where the horror and themes benefit from each other.
Overall, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is a fun and accessible horror-fest for horror fans and newbies alike. It fails to make more out of the short stories that made it infamous to children everywhere. It also doesn't help that it offers paper-thin characters and an unbalanced narrative through-line. It isn't the best written piece of horror this year, but it nonetheless manages to offer enough terror and fright with its haunting creature artistry, great scares, and likable lead to make for a satisfying experience.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vlya92LZqZw&t=1s&w=585