Review: Goosebumps "The Girl Who Cried Monster"

Honestly, I don't need to analyze the plot to this episode. I probably should, for the sake of thoroughness, but I'll freely admit that doing so in detail would be a waste of time for us both. I've got laundry to do and you only have so much time to read this during your bathroom break.

Plot/Themes

It riffs on "The Boy Who Cried Wolf," with the twist ending that the girl crying monster is also a monster.

Boom. Done.

You're smart. You get it. I shouldn't have to go into any more detail there if you actually read the Recap or watched the episode.

So now I can focus my efforts on an aspect of this episode that is worth talking about in detail: The world-building.

The obvious interpretation of the story is that Mr. Mortman is a metaphor for the monsters that prey on children in real life. The original book and this episode are dripping in that particular subtext.

But another central theme to the tale seems to be that "looks can be deceiving." Or if you like, "don't judge a book by its cover."

So even though this story is basically an allegory for child predators, the twist at the end suddenly throws the entire story in a new light. Ironically, the story may become subtler if we take it at face value.

Instead of looking at this story by analyzing Mortmonster as a metaphor, let's analyze his character by the actions he commits in the story in and of themselves. Or rather, the lack of actions.

See, everything about Mortman is implied. It's implied that he's evil. It's implied that he wants to eat Lucy to keep his secret safe. But with the twist ending that the Dark family is made up of monsters, who commit the only onscreen non-insect murders... then the Dark family seems more sinister than the creepy librarian does.

In this world, monsters exist. And they have the ability to disguise themselves as humans to live among them. The humans don't know about monsters, and neither do the monsters, by and large. The Dark family is determined to remain the only monsters in town, raising a very simple question.

Why?

Unfortunately, we only have the glimpses of this underground monster culture, but it's enough to form a, quite frankly, disturbing hypothesis. Let's go back to the quotes from the end of the episode about why they don't want any monsters in town.

Lucy: "Because they might tell other people about us."

Randy: "And they'd be frightened, and they'd chase us away."

Question: Why would other monsters tell the humans?

Could it simply be that all monsters distrust other monsters, and would rather kill their own kind than risk having their own true natures revealed? Possibly. But... I have a theory. Feel free to disagree, this probably wasn't the intention, but this is how I make sense of the situation in light of the can of worms opened up by the twist ending.

Mr. Mortman typically eats crickets and spiders. Gross, to be sure, but then again, look at foreign food. There are plenty of cultures that eat things that we Americans (or Canadians, as the case may be) might consider "gross." Insects, lizards, seaweed, et cetera. "Normal" is relative.

He certainly does threaten to eat Lucy, but look at that situation. Somebody snuck into the library and took a picture of him in monster form. And he doesn't know why. And importantly, he doesn't know who. It's definitely possible that he started snarling and hammily taunting Lucy (like that "fast food" crack) because he was hoping to scare whoever this was away from the library forever.

But then he discovers that it was Lucy who snapped that picture. So he shows up to her house, speaking softly and calmly, politely asking to come inside. Is it so far out of the realm of possibility that Mr. Mortman simply wanted to apologize to Lucy away from the prying eyes of the neighbors? Perhaps explain that he, at the risk of sounding trite, is a nice monster who doesn't actually eat people? Remember the monster from Frankenstein, whom Mortmonster found sympathetic? All he wanted was to live in peace.

But then where does this leave the Darks? They discover that Mortman is a monster, then they... Actually, no. They find circumstantial evidence (when Mortman lied that their house was on his way home) and made the snap decision to invite him over to be eaten.

And why is this? Simple. The Darks are serial killers.

Why do they keep making meatballs? Because they keep kidnapping and killing people for food.

Why do they want to keep other monsters away? Because other monsters might decide to warn the humans. After all, if humans get the idea that all monsters are evil, then they might come after other monsters in the area.

From the evidence I've seen, the Darks are a family of monster serial killers and Mr. Mortman was an innocent victim who merely committed the crime of being a really creepy guy who wanted to be left alone. Like Frankenstein's Monster.

Or maybe Mortmonster really was evil and the Dark family is just more evil.

Either way, I firmly believe that our protagonist is a villain. Although I realize that my theory doesn't explain why Lucy told her human friend, Aaron, that Mr. Mortman was a monster if they want to keep monsters' existence a secret... Unless she was hoping that by outing Mortmonster, no one would ever believe that she was a monster, because why would one monster expose another... I'm going to stop there before I go cross-eyed.

Characters

Lucy Dark (Deborah Scorsone)

When I started recapping this show, I mentioned how my teacher actively tried to keep girls from reading Goosebumps books, preferring to recommend Sweet Valley High, Babysitters Club, Boxcar Children, et cetera, which feature some of the most boring and bland female protagonists ever.

Lucy Dark is the antithesis of bland. She's a fun character to watch, and one who sidesteps the usual pitfalls of male writers trying to create a female character.

Too often, writers (male ones in particular) overthink their female characters in an attempt to not underdevelop them. And in an attempt to avoid being sexist, they end up creating boring role models, or Mary Sues, or characters that make such a big deal out of how non-"girly" they are, which is becoming a stereotype in and of itself.

But Lucy Dark just is. She teases her brother, laughs with her best friend, lets her imagination run wild... Basically, she seems like a real kid. And in a world where so many books, TV shows, and films struggle so hard to create and develop female characters, Lucy Dark effortlessly rises to at least the top ten protagonists in this show.

Helping matters is the actress's performance. She might not be winning any Emmys, but her delivery of "Hi Dad! There's a monster at the library!" made me genuinely laugh, rather than my usual ironic laughter at how silly this show can be, and she effortlessly runs the full gamut of emotion, ranging from laughing with her best friend to being scared out of her wits at the creepy man at the door.

And yet, somehow, this is the only thing this actress is known for. At the very least, this is the only thing on Deborah Scorsone's IMDb page. And I am utterly baffled by this.

Canadian child actors usually get cast in multiple things, from lead roles in Degrassi to voices on The Magic School Bus to minor roles in made-for-TV movies. She has only one credit to her name?

I mean, sure, acting's not for everybody... but there must have been offers.

Aaron (Christopher Tuah)

Goosebumps, as a series, provides a plethora of bland "black best friend" characters for its predominantly white protagonists. Out of all of them (and out of all the "best friend" characters in general), Aaron is one of the most boring and might contribute the least to the plot. You know what? I’m adding “boring best friend” to my review checklist.

Randy Dark (Brandon Bone)

Brandon... is... not very good. Thankfully, his lines are mostly panicked screaming, which he can manage.

Mr. Dark (Dan Lett)

A bit of a goober, contrasting the monster within. One of many dorky dads this show has brought us, and probably one of the dorkiest.

Mrs. Dark (Lynne Cormack)

I have no idea why Cormack delivers her lines like a 1950s housewife in an old Lysol commercial. I wouldn't be surprised if it was an intentional choice to provide contrast for her monstrous reveal... but it rings cheesy at best and false at worst. She's playing for the cheap seats in closeup, and it simply doesn't work for me.

This is going to sound weird, but in a few scenes, Deborah Scorsone acts circles around the grown adults playing her parents.

Mr. Mortman (Eugene Lipinski)

Lipinski is quite a talented bit actor who has had minor roles in Octopussy, Superman IV, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and played a friend of Rosie O'Donnell's character in Harriet the Spy, which, appropriately enough, was about a little girl who liked to watch people without their knowledge. Larger roles of his include December on Fringe, Al Crenshaw on The Romeo Section, and Visser Three/Victor Trent on Animorphs.

The guy is basically too good for this show, and he truly knocks it out of the park with his performance. He definitely gets the metaphorical subtext of his role and delivers a performance that would work perfectly as a creepy librarian on Law and Order: SVU.

And yeah, take away the supernatural elements, and you can easily turn this into a story about a girl accidentally walking in on a librarian and his very illegal porn collection. Which was a very bold choice for a show rated Y7, but it paid off.

Visuals

The transformations are accomplished on the cheap by cutting away during the actual transformation sequences, but there's some good makeup to go around, especially Mortmonster.

Seriously, this is top-notch for '90s kids' TV.

Barking Dogs: 0

I wouldn't be surprised if the Darks ate all the dogs in the neighborhood.

Boring Best Friend: 1
Aaron, possibly the ultimate example in the whole show

Child Grabbing: 0

Though not for lack of trying on Mortman's part.

Foliage POV Cam: No

Murder

Protagonists' Murder Count: 1

Total Murder: 1 librarian

Red Paint: No

Werewolves: Mentioned

X-Files Shout-Out: No

Final Thoughts

One of the more genuinely disturbing episodes, even if you don't believe that the Dark family are the true villains. It's tightly written with genuine tension, even if there are one or two possible minor holes in the internal logic of the world-building.

Next time, the Goosebumps series adapts one of the many camp-based books. Although you could argue that most of these stories are pretty campy. See you then!