They often say that comedians are very adept at horror, since they understand the dark places from which humour comes from better than most. However, we can also invert this idea and see whether it is applicable from the other way around – can those more well-versed in horror make effective comedies? One person who seems committed to proving this to be true is Rob Zombie, who has established himself as a Renaissance man of contemporary horror, directing several of the most evocative and disturbing works of terror in recent years, with films like The Devil’s Rejects and The Haunted World of El Superbeasto being as terrifying as they are deeply peculiar. However, he’s also someone who has made his adoration for broad comedy well-known – one of his idols is Groucho Marx (and his attempts to make a film about the famed entertainer has been stalling for over a decade), and he has shown himself to have a very distinct sense of humour, even in his most terrifying and unsettling films. One can only imagine how enthusiastic those who appreciate Zombie’s unique perspective were when it was announced that he would be making a feature-film adaptation of The Munsters, the classic sitcom that followed the daily exploits of a family of monsters living in suburban California. Maintaining the spirit of the original series, but filtering it through his own idiosyncratic vision that has made him one of the defining auteurs currently working in the horror genre, he proves to be capable of doing something extraordinarily different, while still keeping the unique style has grown to be definitive of his work, leading to a film that is as hilarious as it is provocative, the kind of off-the-wall blend of comedy and horror that we simply don’t get anymore, and all the proof we need to see Zombie as one of our great filmmakers, someone with a vital and vibrant artistic voice that should not be underestimated.

Zombie is not the first person to have the idea to bring the occupants of Mockingbird Lane into the present day – we’ve seen several attempts to reboot it for both film and television, none of them being particularly successful. Looking at why these projects failed, you can easily find the inherent flaw – they were made by people who did not understand what made The Munsters so endearing and popular in the first place. The same certainly cannot be said for Zombie, who is nothing if not entirely passionate about these characters, to the point where every bit of effort he had gone into the creation of this film. Zombie’s cinematic career is very much one structured around diving into his cabinet of curiosities, each one of his films being a manifestation of some wild idea or bizarre fascination that he had, made in conjunction with his collaborators, which he affectionately refers to as “maniacs” in many contexts, referring to their communal spirit to incite nothing but anarchy every time they appear on screen. Translating this chaotic spirit to something as delightfully innocuous as The Munsters seems like a strange choice, but when we break it down and realize what precisely made the original series so captivating, we see very similar links between the show and Zombie’s artistic interests. Mainly, they’re both subversions of conventions, works that are built around exploring the idea that everything is not as it seems, and that there is always a darker side to life, which is filled with monsters – it’s just in The Munsters, they take on a far more endearing shape, and are much less malicious than the creatures that spring from Zombie’s wild imagination.

On the surface, Zombie seems like the most unlikely person to bring this film to life – his horror films have been dark, demented and incredibly violent, which is the antithesis of what made The Munsters so popular and gave them the long-lasting cultural cache that they still possess to this day as remnants of a very particular time in entertainment history, where television was actively experimental. This is especially strange considering this version of the characters adheres very closely to the original series, rather than being a darker retelling of the story. However, Zombie’s entire brand as both a musician and director is his ability to subvert expectations and provoke the viewer to look deeper and forget about any preconceived notions about what art should be. He is the embodiment of the term “expect the unexpected”, and The Munsters serves to be the perfect platform for him to explore these ideas. Primarily, it allowed him to realize his dream of revisiting these characters from his own childhood and honouring a show that was clearly very influential to him in a number of ways. It also gave him the opportunity to do something very different in terms of artistry – he has proclaimed himself to be primarily visually oriented in all spheres of his artistic life, so it only makes sense that his version of The Munsters would be an explosion of colourful images that are quite unlike anything the viewer had seen before. This is a cartoon come to life, with every bit of logic being replaced by outrageous imagery that could not possibly exist in reality, but still make for a profoundly entertaining experience when captured by a director whose passion for this material is reflected in every scene. It gets to the point where the cheaper, do-it-yourself style of the film seems less like a shortcoming, and more like a brilliant aesthetic choice, one that constantly reminds us that we are watching a film that acknowledges that it is wildly over-the-top and artificial, which is all part of the charm that propels the story and gives it such an earnest and endearing tone.

Madness pulsates through every scene of this film, which is almost entirely built around Zombie’s very distinct vision, which manifests in strange but wonderful ways. It’s difficult to not be utterly entranced by this film, which seems to be operating from a place of complete and utter surrealism. Nothing makes sense in this world, and there’s a charm in realizing that this is entirely the point. If it was authenticity that the director was going for, The Munsters would be an enormous, unmitigated failure. However, it is cognisant of its own weirdness, and it actively leans into it at every possible opportunity, which includes several diversions into some of the most demented comedies imaginable. There’s a charm in how artificial the film seems – it was clearly made to look like it was produced on a shoestring budget, but its use of colours and music create a delightfully discordant atmosphere that Zombie is clearly enjoying using to his advantage. The actors play multiple roles, and they commit entirely to every moment, bringing performances that may be the complete opposite of what subtle acting is supposed to be, but they’re having a blast, which is more than many actors tend to exhibit in more serious fare. There’s something to be said about the screenplay – Zombie may not be a professional screenwriter, but he is certainly smart enough to know what works on film, which means that every cliched line of dialogue and hackneyed joke is intentional and purposeful, designed to not only throw us back to the days of laugh track-riddled television shows, but also place us in a position where the humour becomes so ludicrous, it blends with the horror elements to create quite an unsettling film. The intention of The Munsters was not to terrify, but rather to be entertaining with brief overtures of discomfort, which is always the kind of approach that is appreciated when it comes to the director’s work, and the aspect of his films that are most frequently the highlights.

The Munsters is a film that has a script that is seemingly composed of the most ridiculous cliches known to humanity, features actors who are consistently playing to the rafters and leaving very little space for any kind of subtletly, and it looks like it was performed on the discarded set from a kindergarten Halloween pageant – and it is undeniably one of the most entertaining films of the year. Passion projects are sadly becoming more rare these days, with the industry being driven by carefully defined guidelines on what audiences are likely to respond to. If there is any reason to admire Zombie, it would be for his undying devotion to his interests – he could have been a mainstream horror director that received bottomless budgets and the biggest stars on the planet, but he chose to maintain his own vision, and while this meant that his films may be slightly underseen (and the best they can hope for is to be cult classics), they’re bursting with the anarchic energy that the director has harnessed throughout his career, and gives him the platform to bring all these gnarly, bizarre fascinations he has to the screen. He may not be the first name we think of when considering virtuosos of the cinematic form, but several films that showcase not only his incredible talents as a storyteller and visual stylist, but his striking passion for every project he undertakes, proves that he’s one of our great filmmakers, someone who constantly pushes boundaries, and even when making a relatively faithful adaptation of a television show from over half a century ago, he’s demonstrating skill, nuance and brilliance that more than qualifies him for every bit of acclaim he’s received, and will continue to receive if he carries on pursuing his passions and being the embodiment of a truly original cinematic voice.