Gil Kenan’s 2006 film, Monster House, is beloved by many and is frequently included in movie recommendations lists around Halloween. It’s almost been 20 years since its initial release, so I wanted to revisit it to see how it has held up. I was 11 when it came out, and the odd art style and bumbling animations turned me off for a long time. I remember when social media website, Tumblr, was still popular, every “spooky season”, gifs and quirky quotations from the movie would be sprinkled throughout my dashboard. Monster House’s popularity on Tumblr is what pushed me to watch it for the first time.
I remember really liking it: the animations were odd but endearing, the jokes were just dumb enough for me to love them, and I liked the concept of a bond strong enough that it manifested into a horror house (sorry, spoilers for a 20-year-old movie).
I rewatched Monster House recently and couldn’t help but notice who got a voice in the movie, and who that voice mattered to. It’s not uncommon for children in children movies to be ignored by the adults in their life; this is usually how they are able to ensue in hijinks in the first place. In one of the opening scenes, DJ Walters is exposed by his mom, Elena Walters, for obsessively spying on their neighbour, Horace Nebbercracker. Naturally, DJ’s mom shrugs him off after explaining that Mr. Nebbercracker’s house is haunted.
There are multiple instances of characters exclaiming that aren’t being listened to. What they all have in common is being social outcasts, or the Other, in their neighborhood. At this point I have written about the Other a couple times, so please refer to my Frankenstein post or my post about David Martinez from Cyberpunk: Edgerunners for more information.
The characters we will be analysing are DJ and his friends Chowder Peterson and Jenny Bennett, Mr. Nebbercracker, and his wife and source of the monster house, Constance “The Giantess” Nebbercracker. All five of these characters are outcasted in one way or another, but Constance is unlike the other four. Constance, Othered and abused, is a social outcast, but she also doesn’t have a voice where the other outcasted characters do.
Dj, Chowder, and Jenny all have their own specific reasons for being labelled as “outcasts,” but we will group them together for argument’s sake. The three children are around 12 or 13, which is an awkward transitional phase. They’re old enough to have independent thoughts of their own, but still too young for their thoughts to matter to adults. The viewer witnesses all three children getting shrugged off by their parents when they explain the paranormal happenings at Nebbercracker’s house. Like previously mentioned, this isn’t uncommon for this genre of movie, but for Monster House it feels uncomfortable.
The monster house transforms and wreaks havoc in daylight, but the only people who see are the children. With so much screaming and commotion from both the children and the house, it becomes increasingly strange how no adult cares to investigate. It’s as if the happenings at Nebbercracker’s house are isolated incidents that only exist to the children, even when those happenings affect the entire neighbourhood at the end of the movie.
Outcasted from this adult world, the children still have solace in each other; their voices matter to one another. The children are immediately interested in investigating Nebbercracker’s house without the need for solid proof. The only adult they can connect to is Mr. Nebbercracker. This connection is because of his Othering too… he isn’t like other adults.
Mr. Nebbercracker is immediately shown as a crotchety old man who wants to be left alone. In many ways, Mr. Nebbercracker outcasts himself. He forces isolation and insists on having very little contact with his local community. The viewer sees the neighbourhood children consistently ignore Mr.Nebbercracker’s warnings to stay away from his house. This is his instance of being silenced.
Like the children, Mr. Nebbercracker does find solace in the third act of the movie. Other adults don’t listen to him; the children do. Two groups of social outcasts bond through hearing and caring for the other. This may be the first instance in a long time where Mr. Nebbercracker has felt seen.
Constance Nebbercracker, on the other hand, isn’t so lucky. Constance’s human body gets about two to five minutes of screentime over the 121-minute runtime of Monster House. Over the runtime, the viewer hears multiple people spreading rumours that Mr. Nebbercracker “fattened her up” and ate her… before we get to see or hear Constance ourselves, we are presented with a single mental image: her body.
Jessica Scott wrote an analysis of Monster House for Dread Central about the movie’s fatphobia, so please take a read if you are interested in learning more. I won’t be discussing the movie’s fatphobia at large, but will discuss how the movie presents Constance to the viewer and what those implications are.
When the movie shows Constance’s human body to the viewer, she’s shown being caged and ridiculed at a circus solely for being fat. The scene is jarring to watch. When Mr. Nebbercracker whisks her away, she is still caged; and after she dies in the concrete of their house, she is caged then too. Monster House tries to make Mr. Nebbercracker and Constance’s love story deep and meaningful but watching through the lens of an adult in 2026, I couldn’t help noticing she has always been trapped…even in death.
The movie tries to say, “well, Mr. Nebbercracker is trapped too! The house keeps him tethered here,” but it’s a faulty statement. Yes, Mr. Nebbercracker is tied to the house, but like mentioned before, he has solace in being understood by the children. The third act even becomes an “us versus you” situation, with Mr. Nebbercracker and the children fighting against Monster House Constance. At this point, Nebbercracker and Constance have lost any meaningful connection the movie tried building. Also, the ending loses all sympathy for Constance, too… not that it had much for her in the first place.
So, not only is Constance caged the entire movie, she also doesn’t have a real voice to express herself. When the viewer learns the backstory of Constance and Nebbercracker’s relationship, Constance doesn’t have many spoken lines. Most of her spoken lines are her yelling at abusive children and grunting in frustration. There isn’t much to her.
Monster House gives the viewer background context but doesn’t try building a solid connection between the viewer and Constance herself. It feels like the viewer is supposed to watch that sequence, say “oh, that’s sad,” and move on. Constance’s backstory feels like it’s presented solely to give the movie rationale, and not to make her a tangible character whatsoever.
So, even though Monster House focuses on three different subsets of social outcasts, it only cares for two of those groups. The children and Mr. Nebbercracker get the chance to be heard and understood, but Constance never does. The movie is cheeky and smart, albeit some jokes are of the time, but I think it’s important for viewers to think critically about what isn’t being said in the film. Monster House leans into the misogynistic and fatphobic ideals of the 2000s, and with a constantly changing social sphere, it’s important to combat these ideals today.
I’m not saying don’t watch the movie, I probably will have the urge to watch it again. Instead of passing it off as a harmless children’s movie, I think we need to stay aware of the implications it presents. Some of my favourite pieces of media are imperfect, too. Being informed is the best way to consume media!
What’s your favourite children’s film? What do you like about it? Let me know in the comments!
Thanks for reading, and remember to stay curious.
See you soon,
Lysh
Featured Image Credit: Gil Kenan. (2006). Monster House. [Film]. Relativity Media.
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