The Munsters

It wouldn’t take much thought to understand the appeal of a film adaptation of the classic 60’s sitcom, The Munsters, to filmmaker/hard rocker Rob Zombie. The multi-talent’s breakthrough hit solo single, Dragula, is taken directly from the vehicle of the Grandpa character from the sitcom that ran from 1964 to 1966 and has made notable references to the show throughout his career. Despite wanting to break out of the horror genre for some time now, Zombie’s brand of Kentucky-Fried, American Grindhouse cinema is finally left behind in his first family-friendly feature. Staying true to the earnest, good-natured tone of the beloved sitcom, this adaptation of The Munsters is a languid, technicolor love letter to a classic piece of pop culture.

Before their time living on 1313 Mockingbird Lane, Rob Zombie’s The Munsters tells the origins of Herman Munster (Jeff Daniel Phillips), made from a mad scientist, Dr. Wolfgang (a superbly eccentric Richard Brake) and his henchman, Floop (Jorge Garcia) and how he fell in love with the woman who would go on to become his bride, Lily (Sheri Moon Zombie). No, Eddie Munster hasn’t been born yet and Grandpa is known as The Count (a note-perfect Daniel Roebuck) who is Lily’s disapproving father. Zombie, instead, works to retain the original sitcom’s spirit while giving these iconic characters some new blood.

Rob Zombie understands the visual language and rhythms of the sitcom, so much so that modern audiences may find themselves a bit restless with the old-fashioned staging of the film. There’s a personable touch to the film that feels baked in to the eccentric world Zombie has created. You can sense just how much passion Zombie has for this world and these characters. Zombie has always been more fascinated by his monstrous creations and he fully embraces the good-natured characters with the warmth he would normally treat his Firefly family, minus the murder, torture and necrophilia.

Departing from the black and white aesthetic of the show, Zombie envisions his portrayal through a vibrant, Halloween-fueled color palette, fit with extravagant, beautifully rendered sets that look like they came straight from Universal Studios’ Halloween Horror Nights. Every frame, shot by DP Goran Popovic (Clean, Breakthrough), is intensely colorful, fit with spooky mise-en-scène that will have fans putting this in their yearly rotation for Halloween season.

The cast does an excellent job of selling you on Zombie’s vision, playing everything authentically with no sarcastic winking or ironic over-acting. Sheri Moon Zombie is immensely entertaining as Lily Munster. In a sense, this is the perfect role for her and the initial scenes between her and Phillips’ Herman are absolutely delightful. Jeff Daniel Phillips undoubtedly has big shoes to fill — literally — as Herman Munster, a role so infamously portrayed by the late, Fred Gwynne. Wisely, Phillips doesn’t settle for an impression, rather his own interpretation of the lovable oaf, making this Herman a wonderfully endearing portrayal. The scenes of a swooning, love drunk Herman after his first date with Lily are infectiously warm-hearted and Phillips shares a sweet chemistry with Moon Zombie — the two have shared the screen on the past three Zombie films, The Lords of Salem, 31 and 3 From Hell.

Roebuck wonderfully inhabits the spirit of Al Lewis’ Grandpa character with his own sense of personality. Being a prequel, the dynamic between The Count and Herman is far different from the show as The Count sees Herman as nothing but a giant buffoon who doesn’t deserve to be with his daughter. This rapport provides some of the biggest laughs of the film as the two actors share highly impressive comedic timing.

Zombie’s writing is full of humor that fits in line with other 60’s sitcoms such as the Adam West Batman, Leave It To Beaver and I Dream of Jeannie. While there are a great deal of jokes that undeniably land, showcasing Zombie’s other filmmaking skills not as frequently employed, there are plenty that don’t. When the comedy falls flat, it feels as though you’re watching a sitcom that’s missing a laugh track.

Clocking in at 110 minutes, there is no denying The Munsters is overlong. While intentional, the pacing is downright glacial at times with many scenes dragging beyond reason. There is little narrative moment with the film lumbering through its plot points like its 3 to 4 television episodes put together.

The Munsters is less an adaptation of a classic sitcom, but more of filmmaker Rob Zombie’s homage to a personally beloved piece of nostalgia. While it could benefit from a much tighter edit and it’s budgetary restraints show the seams every now-and-then, this is a warm-hearted and vibrant retelling of an iconic show that makes for fine Halloween-time viewing.