The shadow of the Bellows family has loomed large in the small town of Mill Valley for generations. It’s in a mansion that young Sarah Bellows turns her tortured life and horrible secrets into a series of scary stories. These terrifying tales soon have a way of becoming all too real for a group of unsuspecting teens who stumble upon Sarah’s spooky home.
When I was a child, I had a pretty twisted imagination. Some of my favorite books were R.L. Stine’s “Goosebumps” series. Each one dealt with a different paranormal deity or monster haunting/hunting a 12-year-old until our hero outwitted the evil forces… or not. Some of the best entries ended on an ambiguous note, a twist signifying dire things to come. The language was simple, and the protagonists rather one-note — but it was Stine’s refusal to talk down to his target demographic, his understanding of what drives and frightens a prepubescent child, that made his series so popular. (It was adapted into a lame TV show, and two recent “just okay” Hollywood features).
Itself based on Alvin Schwartz’s collection of stories, André Øvredal’s “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” resembles a “Goosebumps” book, albeit an extra-dark one, with some politics thrown in for good measure. It may be far from perfect, but the director — with the help of producer/co-writer Guillermo del Toro — develops on the promise of his two previous features, “Trollhunter” and “The Autopsy of Jane Doe,” to deliver a spooky Spielbergian fantasy, creepy but never overtly gory, and therefore bound to delight the more twisted kids out there. Yes, the film may not be unique in presenting youngsters in peril, its narrative wrapped in a thick, all-too-familiar throwback/retro blanket. “Stranger Things” just released its third season on Netflix, and “IT” made a trillion dollars worldwide. Who can blame Øvredal for capitalizing on these blockbusters’ successes?
Set in the late 1960s, with the Vietnam war accumulating in the background, his film focuses on a trio of best friends — doleful Stella (Zoe Margaret Colette), nerdy Auggie (Gabriel Rush) and ostentatious Chuck (Austin Zajur) — who are in the midst of waging their own war against neighborhood bullies. When a Halloween prank results in a full-fledged chase sequence, our heroes hide in a drive-through theater, in Ramón’s (Michael Garza) car. Ramón is mysterious, seemingly homeless, and oh-so-dreamy. He fends off the bullies and consequently joins the trio in investigating a haunted house. This leads to Stella’s discovery of a book that once belonged to Sarah Bellows, a tortured soul, whose ghost now exacts revenge on humanity by writing terrifying stories that come to life.
Facing your fears is a commendable but well-worn theme, having buoyed the aforementioned “IT” and “Stranger Things,” as well as the slew of coming-of-age tales that influenced them, from “E.T.” to “Stand by Me.” Øvredal doesn’t fully develop that theme. The only truly resonant, deep-rooted phobia is Ramón’s — his brother came back from Vietnam “in pieces,” and therefore his fear manifests itself as a cobbled-together ghoul, the film’s most chilling creation. Stella’s sad history is also directly interlinked with that of Sarah Bellows’, yet the other stories — involving a scarecrow, a missing toe, a red room, and a particularly nasty zit — fail to provide much depth, mostly due to the characters’ thinly-sketched backgrounds. Thankfully, the imaginative FX/make-up combo and the way Øvredal stages those sequences keep them entertaining, almost making one overlook the dearth of poignancy. A black-eyed, stringy-haired demon brings to mind Hideo Nakata’s “Ringu” — and I mean that as a compliment of the highest order.
Perhaps the script would have benefitted from another few polishes. It’s not just the overarching thematic elements (Nixon, Vietnam, getting over grief, prejudice, social status, etc.) that don’t entirely connect; for every witty line of dialogue (“This is why I don’t like books!” Chuck exclaims at one point), there’s a groan-inducing one (“You don’t read the book, the book reads you!” Stella gasps). I like the whole concept that “we write our own stories,” but the film does little with it, so infatuated with the concept it rushes through it. Perhaps “SSTTITD” would’ve worked better as an anthology, with del Toro directing one of the segments; his stamp is evident in the most effective, visually inspired sequences. That’s not to discredit Øvredal, mind you, whose stylish direction — just — holds it all together. He brings a palpable warmth to the proceedings, greatly assisted by cinematographer Roman Osin. There are sparks of real magic sprinkled throughout this feature, and that’s enough to make both young ‘uns — and children of the 1980s like me — squeal with joy.
In Theaters Friday, August 9th
