Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

“‘Not ghosts but human beings,’ reads a slogan for International Albinism Awareness Day, so it’s ironic that the sole person with albinism in Scary Stories shows up as a ghost.”

Title: Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)
Director: André Øvredal 👨🏼🇳🇴
Writers: Screenplay by Dan Hageman 👨🏼🇺🇸 and Kevin Hageman 👨🏼🇺🇸 based on the screen story by Guillermo del Toro 👨🏽🇲🇽, Patrick Melton 👨🏼🇺🇸, and Marcus Dunstan 👨🏼🇺🇸. Original book series by Alvin Schwartz 👨🏼🇺🇸

Reviewed by Alicja Johnson 👩🏼🇺🇸

Note: This review was commissioned by Lionsgate. The content and methodology remain 100% independent and in line with Mediaversity's non-commissioned reviews.

—SPOILERS AHEAD—

Technical: 4/5

Ah, the questionable judgment of teenagers. From classics like I Saw What You Did (1965) to recent romps like Ma (2019), teens’ bad decisions have jumpstarted countless horror movies. In the case of 2019’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, a trio of high school friends helmed by aspiring writer Stella Nicholls (Zoe Colletti) invite transient visitor Ramón Morales (Michael Garza) to break into a haunted home on Halloween night in 1968. Previously owned by the wealthy Bellows, local lore alleges that the family’s daughter Sarah (Kathleen Pollard) was locked away in the basement because of her supernatural gifts. When Stella stumbles upon Sarah’s book of stories, the young horror-lover can’t resist the temptation to take the tome with her.

Soon enough, terrifying stories that namecheck Stella’s peers begin to appear in the book, lining up with their actual disappearances. This clever framing device, conceived by producer Guillermo del Toro, brings Scary Stories’ source material of Alvin Schwartz’s iconic books into the action. The creative approach lends itself well to the film’s timeless message about the power of story.

Fortunately, the movie’s teens prove to be smarter than their initial behavior suggests and it’s rather enjoyable to watch them work out the mystery behind Sarah Bellows and her book of stories. Colletti and Garza click particularly well, making for a delightful viewing experience. But not to worry—Scary Stories has plenty of scares, too. The imaginative creature design and special effects bear Del Toro’s knack for monsters all over them, and the writers expertly mix in real-life nightmares (racism, Nixon, and gaslighting, oh my!) to supplement the fantastical. All in all, there’s no questioning that Scary Stories has helped feed a new generation of horror fans.

Gender: 4.5/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES

At the heart of Scary Stories lies two young women, Stella and Sarah, who propel the narrative in equal parts. We first meet Sarah 40 years after her death through second-hand accounts by Stella and her friends. As town mythology goes, something had always been “off” about Sarah, leading the Bellows family to lock her in the basement where she was eventually accused of using supernatural gifts to kill children. Sarah’s treatment brings to mind that of women like Bridget Bishop, the first person executed during the Salem witch trials due to her unconventional lifestyle. To this very day, society has always punished women who don’t conform, and Sarah Bellows serves as a chilling reminder of that.

Much like we’ve revisited the Clinton Affair to recognize that Monica Lewinsky was never to blame, or come to understand that Janet Jackson was unjustly lambasted for the 2004 Super Bowl Halftime show, Scary Stories shows the exoneration of another maligned (albeit fictional) woman. Stella and Ramón discover that Sarah was never a murderer, but was actually tortured by her family because she tried to reveal that the Bellows were poisoning the town’s water supply. True, Sarah’s spirit does write scary stories that kill Stella’s friends, but the rich backstory makes her feel less like a villain and more like the abused young girl she was.

Stella leads the inquiry into Sarah’s true life, and takes on the challenge of restoring her legacy by sharing the Bellows girl’s story in the paper. Her role in all of this provides a potent message to young women, affirming that they have the power to question the dominant narrative—and the agency to correct it when needed.

Even though the cautionary tale about storytelling serves gender representation well, however, the film falls short on Stella herself. While she bears welcome traits often denied to female characters, like fearlessness and a love of horror, some lazily-written elements come off as thoughtless tropes. For example, Stella’s mom left the family when she was a child, meaning that Scary Stories joins the long list of teen movies with an absent mother—take Clueless (1995) or 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), and even recent flicks like The Half of It (2020) and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018). Writer Clara Popp explains that the trouble with this “missing mom” trope is that it gives (usually female) teen characters “that perfect amount of tragic background to let the audience know that these heroines are ‘not like other girls.’”

Race: 3.75/5

Though Scary Stories’ setting of Mill Valley, Pennsylvania is fictitious, the town feels awfully white. (A real missed opportunity considering the vigorous Civil Rights Movement sweeping the country during the time period.) Sarah Bellows’ former friend Lou Lou (Lorraine Toussaint) is the only Black character we meet, and only for the briefest of moments at that. Plus, as critic Robert Daniels points out, Lou Lou seems “sculpted in the traditional Magical Negro trope—taking on bodily harm to defend her young white friend but now left elderly and broken by the ravages of time.”

On the bright side, Mexican American actor Michael Garza gets plenty of screen time in the role of dreamy Ramón, working with Stella as an equal partner. We see him experience racism that people of color still go through to this day, including microaggressions like unwarranted attention from the cops or hate crimes involving destruction of property. Though this might have been accurate for the time, it’s disappointing that we spend more time watching Ramón navigate Mill Valley’s bigotry than we do learning about him as a person.

One of the few things we find out about Ramón is that he’s on the run to escape his draft notice, after seeing his brother come home from Vietnam in a body bag. The detail may be a subtle reference to the fact (overlooked by history books) that Mexican Americans sustained fully 1 in 5 U.S. casualties in Vietnam, despite making up just 6% of the population.

Deduction for Disability: -0.50

In their investigations, Stella and Ramón learn that Sarah had albinism, a skin condition which played into her ostracization. (Note that actress Kathleen Pollard does not have albinism, which means we’re off to a rocky start.) The discrimination against Sarah seems on par with the social isolation and even physical attacks that people with albinism have always faced. But alas, Scary Stories’ depiction of the condition harms more than helps the community, despite painting Sarah in a redeeming light.

“Not ghosts but human beings,” reads one of the slogans for International Albinism Awareness Day—an effort to dispel the longstanding belief that people with albinism are ghosts or have magical powers. So it’s ironic in the most terrible sense that the sole person with albinism in this tale shows up as a ghost with magical powers. To make matters worse, Hollywood has a history of villainizing people with skin conditions. Consider that 60% of villains on the American Film Institute’s 100 Greatest Heroes and Villains list have some form of skin disorder, while the heroes have nary a blemish.

Interestingly enough, a 2017 draft of the screenplay has no trace of albinism, instead afflicting Sarah with a vague combination of scoliosis and gigantism. While it’s never good to villainize any disability, characters with scoliosis or gigantism have seen less malignment in film than characters with skin conditions. But whatever the reason, it hardly matters, because Scary Stories would have worked just fine without demonizing the only character with a disability.

Mediaversity Grade: B 3.92/5

The power of stories to both hurt and heal holds immense relevance in this age of misinformation—particularly for marginalized groups. Even though Scary Stories encourages viewers to question the narratives we’re told, it also adds itself to the chronicles that have helped stigmatize albinism.

Like Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark? Try these other teen horror titles.

Grade: BLiAugust 6, 2019