Why We Need Monsters

You don’t have to be a fan of monster movies to have noticed they’re everywhere. For decades now, the staples of werewolves, vampires, trolls/ogres/wicked leprechauns, huge beasts of the ocean, and assorted otherworldly creatures have dominated our screens, and our minds. Since the beginning of recorded history, humans have always feared, and been fascinated by, these things that may or may not exist, that may or may not be coming for us in the dark of night. It’s no surprise we started making movies about them as soon as we were able to.

And although we’ve now made so many films about all kinds of monsters that the genre itself is seen as a living, breathing trope, we will, time and time again, keep coming back to it.

The question — asked for years by those misguided fools who don’t understand the allure — is, why. The answer is a lot more complex than non-fans may anticipate.

Reason One: Monsters are a tangible way to address intangible fears.

Unfortunately, there are plenty of things to be afraid of in the real world; and even more unfortunately, there are some things that we’re going to be afraid of even when we can’t pinpoint what it is. As someone with lifelong anxiety, I have lost sleep countless nights over everything from the sudden loss of a loved one to possibly forgetting to get milk on the way home. Spending a majority of my life also engrossed in the monster genre has meant I’ve developed unique coping techniques — such as pretending I’m preparing to go slay a cryptid while getting ready for an important meeting; or asking myself, “How would Van Helsing say it?” when trying to mentally strategize for an uncomfortable confrontation. I still have anxiety, and I don’t always get life right, but I have managed to tackle head-on some pretty major shit, and come out the other side victorious, while imagining my last name is Winchester, or Mulder.

Reason Two: Monsters make us feel more human.

Let’s face it — being a person is hard. It’s all too easy to get caught up in the grind of jobs, chores, errands, school, parenting, and all the other people stuff, and lose sight of why you do it all. Building relationships with each other and sharing our passions for our hobbies and interests is a big human thing, and looking for reasons to pursue your particular way of making the world just a little bit better add meaning to the whole endeavor. Watching monster movies helps us ponder the big questions, such as, “Just because we can doesn’t mean we should,” and, “When you’re gone, how do you want people to remember you?” Fictional characters can create monsters and unleash them on an innocent population — and it makes us feel good to know there are cryptid hunters ready to strike them down, so that the extra who runs a corner shop can continue going to work and coming home to kiss his kids good night. It gives us something to fight for.

And a lot of these stories also give us great tips for how to maintain our humanity should we be turned into monsters ourselves. The principles we need to gravitate back to when we start slipping too far away. What makes it worth keeping our darker impulses at bay.

Reason Three: Monsters give us an excuse to be naughty.

Since we’re talking about movies, meaning everything happens on a set, with props and special effects, and according to a script, the fact is, no one actually gets hurt; so this creates a specific brand of escapism. A perfectly ordinary — and nice — person can put on an elaborate costume and makeup and behave in truly terrible ways for 95 minutes, and there are no consequences. Artists can design entire cities being demolished, tons of people getting wiped out by a giant tentacle sweep, or an army of orcs laying waste to a field of goats just minding their own business, and there’s no trouble later. It can be extremely cathartic as well, to pretend that CGI goat is the tree that fell on your car; that the supernatural mercenary you’re knifing is the illness your spouse struggles with; that the skyscraper a kaiju’s tail just exploded is the absolutely craptastic day you just had with your tantrum-ing toddler. Yes, self-restraint and being able to keep calm in the face of turmoil are very beneficial skills; but sometimes getting to let loose and blow stuff up, or fly through the night sky cackling loudly is just as soothing.

Reason Four: Monsters can be powerful metaphors.

Storytelling uses all sorts of tools to inform and inspire. In mythology, literature, and film, dangerous supernatural beings have been representations of everything from racism and bigotry, to bullying, to putting forth a certain perspective on how we treat outsiders, and what makes an outsider. There have been many stories where either the monster characters display interesting and impactful thoughts on dysfunctional families and societies, on greed and the cost of power, on learning when to stop and when we’re wrong.

There are moments when speaking out can pose peril to humans; so we employ metaphors to share our thoughts on the regimes or organizations that would silence us. Through the centuries, invading armies or empires, abusive partners, corrupt businesses, and even mean schoolteachers have become the monsters in folktales or urban legends. These portrayals really haven’t changed that much; which means neither has our need for this form of symbolism.

Reason Five: Monsters give us a different sort of hero to root for.

I think we’re all aware by now that some people place a lot of value in appearances, and that these same individuals equate appearances with positive personality traits — and that the opposite must also be true. One of the biggest, and longest-lasting, lessons of monster movies is that the being who is the least easy on the eyes could be the most powerful asset in your fight. The most humble creature in the most unimpressive environment could be incredibly intelligent. A grouchy loner who rarely speaks to others will become the most loyal ally to your cause.

Anybody who has ever felt on the outskirts of the group, or not welcome in certain circles, who believes or knows they’ve been judged purely on their outer cover, can relate to this. It was one of the reasons I found myself much more in the pages of vampire novels than chick lit; that I will likely pass on a dozen new murder mysteries to re-watch a cheesy creature feature.

I will never apologize for any of it. I will remain a fan of the genre, weathering the tropes and the reboots and the ups and downs of franchises. I will explore all the cultures, all the tales, and revel in every minute of it.

Because we need monsters.