Remember that feeling? The slight buzz from the VCR, the satisfying clunk of the tape going in, and the flickering blue screen before the previews? Sometimes, nestled between the guaranteed blockbusters on the rental shelf, you'd find something... different. Something like Little Monsters. It wasn't quite horror, not strictly comedy, definitely not just for kids, but radiated a weird, chaotic energy right from the slightly sinister cover art. It promised mischief, slime, and maybe something genuinely unsettling hiding under the primary colours, and boy, did it deliver a strange, unforgettable brew.
### Beyond the Bedframe
The setup feels like pure late-80s suburban comfort food: young Brian Stevenson (Fred Savage, radiating peak Wonder Years earnestness) moves to a new town with his family, including long-suffering dad Glen (Daniel Stern, perfectly cast as the exasperated but loving father – and yes, the narrator voice we all knew!) and younger brother Eric (Ben Savage, Fred's actual brother in an early role). Strange things start happening – bikes in trees, ice cream explosions, blamed squarely on Brian. But the culprit isn't adolescent rebellion; it's Maurice (Howie Mandel), a blue-skinned, horned, leather-jacket-wearing monster who lives beneath Brian's bed. What unfolds is less a typical 'boy and his monster' tale and more a plunge into a surprisingly grungy, punk-rock dimension fuelled by junk food, destruction, and the breaking of rules.
### Meet Maurice, Your Manic Monster Guide
Let's be honest, Howie Mandel is this movie. Buried under layers of blue latex and sporting wild horns, he channels a hyperactive, slightly dangerous energy that’s utterly captivating. Maurice isn't just a friendly goofball; there's a genuine edge to him, a love for chaos that feels both alluring and slightly unnerving for a kid's movie protagonist. Getting Mandel into that Maurice get-up was apparently an ordeal in itself, often taking three to five hours in the makeup chair each day. That dedication pays off – the character feels lived-in, expressive despite the prosthetics, and utterly distinct. It's a performance that perfectly embodies the film's weird tightrope walk between kid-friendly adventure and something darker lurking underneath.
### A World Built on Junk Food and Nightmares
The real magic, or perhaps madness, kicks in when Brian follows Maurice down the glowing staircase beneath his bed into the monster underworld. Forget polished fantasy realms; this place feels sticky, anarchic, and delightfully low-tech. It's a dimension seemingly constructed from discarded toys, scrap metal, and endless staircases leading under the beds of children everywhere. Overseen by the genuinely intimidating head monster, Boy (Frank Whaley, delivering a menacing cool), this isn't just a playground; it's a society with its own hierarchy and dangers. The film revels in the mayhem – monsters bowling with heads, gorging on snacks, and pulling elaborate pranks on unsuspecting humans. It’s a vision brought to life not by seamless CGI, but by tangible sets, imaginative (if sometimes rubbery) creature designs, and a commitment to practical gags. Remember the sheer, visceral gross-out factor of those melting monster effects when exposed to light? That kind of messy, tactile effect hits differently than today's often weightless digital creations. It felt gloriously messy back then, didn't it?
The visual style is interesting, considering director Richard Alan Greenberg was an absolute legend in the world of title sequence design (think Superman: The Movie, Alien, The Untouchables). This was his sole feature directing credit, and while the film doesn't boast the slick polish of his title work, there's a certain chaotic visual flair, especially in the monster world sequences, that hints at his eye for composition amidst the anarchy.
### Scripting the Strangeness
It's fascinating to note that the screenplay came from Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott. While they weren't yet the household names they'd become after penning blockbusters like Disney's Aladdin (1992) and the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, you can sense their knack for world-building and blending humour with adventure, even in this earlier, quirkier form. Little Monsters definitely feels like a testing ground for ideas, juggling slapstick comedy with moments of genuine peril – particularly when Brian's brother Eric gets kidnapped, raising the stakes considerably. The tone can feel a bit jarring at times, bouncing between lighthearted pranks and sequences that genuinely pushed the boundaries of its PG rating back in '89, making parents perhaps raise an eyebrow while kids secretly thrilled at the edginess.
### A Cult Classic Born on Tape
Upon release, Little Monsters wasn't exactly a box office titan. It pulled in a modest $7.9 million or so, finding its true home, like so many unique films of the era, on home video. It became a staple of sleepovers and late-night cable viewings, a movie passed around among friends with a knowing nod – "You gotta see this weird monster movie!" Its blend of childhood fantasy fulfilment (a secret world under your bed!) and surprisingly dark undertones cemented its status as a beloved cult favourite for a generation who discovered its bizarre charm on a worn-out VHS tape. The slightly fuzzy tracking lines almost seemed to enhance the grungy, otherworldly feel of the monster dimension.
VHS Heaven Rating: 7/10
Justification: Little Monsters earns a solid 7 for its sheer imaginative audacity, Howie Mandel's unforgettable performance, and its commitment to wonderfully practical, often gooey effects. It captures a unique late-80s vibe, blending kid-friendly adventure with a surprising edge that makes it memorable. The writing duo's early promise is evident, and the monster world design, while clearly budget-conscious, is charmingly realized. It loses points for tonal inconsistencies that sometimes feel jarring and a plot that meanders slightly in the middle. However, its earnestness, energy, and enduring cult status built on the back of VHS rentals make it a fascinating and fun artefact of its time.
Final Thought: More than just a kids' flick, Little Monsters remains a gloriously weird portal back to a time when "family entertainment" could still feel genuinely strange, a little bit dangerous, and wonderfully tactile – a true under-the-bed gem discovered in the video store twilight.