Netflix’s The Munsters Review – Rob Zombie’s Latest Is A Campy Departure From The Norm

When it was first announced that Rob Zombie would be adapting the classic TV series The Munsters as a movie, there were understandable fears. After all, the man behind House of 1,000 Corpses and the ultraviolent 2007 Halloween reboot undertaking a monster-flavored sitcom adaptation seemed like an odd fit. Then the trailers for the movie hit and a new set of concerns arose as they seemed, well, bad. Now the movie has arrived, though, and those who sit down to watch it on Netflix or Blu-ray are in for a wild, surprisingly enjoyable ride.

Believe it or not, Rob Zombie’s Munsters isn’t a bad movie. In fact, it’s quite good and not at all the movie I expected it to be. Instead, it’s ’60s-era camp baked into the silliness of a sitcom shot against a beautiful and colorful backdrop.

The Munsters is the riskiest thing Zombie has done as a filmmaker, trading in his dark and grisly horror tales (and the animated madness of El Superbeasto) for a genuine comedy, albeit the kind of comedy we don’t see all that often anymore. Instead of updating The Munsters, the director has fallen back on what made the original TV series work when it first debuted in 1964. This is a nearly two-hour film that is silly, goofy, pleasantly overacted, and almost surreal in how ridiculous it gets.

It’s a wise approach to bringing back The Munsters in 2022. This is an objectively silly franchise, and turning it into a grimdark horror tale would be robbing it of its identity–the same way a grounded and realistic Addams Family would. And although it may not be the type of material he normally creates, Zombie has done a fantastic job here, embracing what makes The Munsters special and putting it on display for longtime fans and a new generation that doesn’t know the old show.

More than that, though, he’s created a unique world, unlike anything we’ve ever seen from the director. It’s filled with color, outlandish sets, and beautiful visuals far beyond the trashy horror aesthetic we’ve come to expect. The Munsters is bursting with purples, greens, and oranges, filling these splashes of pigment in ways that feel like they were pulled directly from the original black and white series and colorized, thanks–no doubt–to cinematographer Zoran Popovic.

The look is matched by an excellent original score from composer Zeuss, which even includes some original songs heard in the film. Seriously, keep an ear out for the incredibly catchy “Disco Vampire.”

With a movie this over-the-top, you need a cast that can carry the load. Thankfully, Zombie has cast the perfect trio for the roles of Herman, Lily, and The Count (otherwise known as Grandpa in the original series). Jeff Daniel Phillips’ take on Herman is every bit as goofy and oafish as he was on the show, but played for even further comedic effect as you realize this guy just wants to find love, wherever it may lead him–and he’s too dim to go about it subtly. Instead, this is a loud and boisterous performance. The Count, played by Daniel Roebuck, on the other hand, finds himself incredibly disappointed that his daughter Lily has chosen a goon like Herman as her betrothed. Watching him mock Herman, without the Frankenstein-esque monster realizing what is happening, is comedy gold.

The biggest praise, though, has to go to Sheri Moon Zombie. She’s doing arguably the best work of her career as Lily. She floats through every scene she’s in, with a high-pitched tone that manages to be both welcoming and hilarious as she ping-pongs between Herman and The Count. Prior to this movie, I’m not sure that I would’ve expected Zombie to be so funny, but The Munsters is enough to make me want to see her show off her comedy chops more often.

The only real downside to the film is it gets off to a clunky start. It takes too long to introduce the world and its characters, which is unfortunate for a film like this. With a nearly two-hour runtime, the beginning feels like it takes a needlessly long time before getting into the meat of the story.

Additionally, it should be noted that this isn’t a remake of the series you might know. Instead, The Munsters acts as more of an origin story for the sitcom. We see Herman and Lily meeting, we get to watch their love story develop, and we see how they end up in their iconic 1313 Mockingbird Lane home. While that certainly leaves room for a sequel, where we would get to meet their child Eddie or even cousin Marilyn, there’s no guarantee that’ll ever happen, which feels like a missed opportunity for this film.

Ultimately, The Munsters is not the movie you think it is. Its trailers are a disservice to the final product, which is a genuinely fun romp with slight horror tones infused into the story. Don’t expect Zombie’s brand of terror or a cheap-looking pseudo-sitcom stretched out to feature length. Instead, this is a celebration of the original Munsters with a few upgrades, a bunch more color, and some very funny performances.