viniegm blannquah enriquo
Maureen Quartaro
If you were like me growing up in the 90s and digesting a fair amount of fleeting pop culture trends, there was one series of kids' horror books that dominated the mainstream and brought attention to literature in ways that would be unheard of today. I'm of course talking about R.L. Stine's hugely successful Goosebumps series. The books had such a huge impact on kids literature that it went on to spawn an equally successful television show in the 90s along with a surprisingly decent movie adaptation starring Jack Black in 2015. That's not even counting the merchandising.
With the recent resurgence of another popular Stine book series in Netflix's Fear Street adaptations, now might be the perfect time to strike on a Goosebumps revival taken to an audience that grew up with the books.
Goosebumps first started print in 1992, taking a lot of inspiration from The Twilight Zone and Tales from the Crypt but catered towards younger readers. Each short book brought an original story, usually peppered with supernatural elements like werewolves, evil possessed dummies, killer sponges and lawn gnomes, haunted masks, walking scarecrows - you know, the usual assortment of horror oddities. I recently decided to brush off my collection of Goosebumps books (the original 62) and plunge into some of them with a fresh perspective after all these years... and I've probably taken away more disappointment than nostalgic pleasure.
Some ideas were straight-up lifted from The Twilight Zone...
Let's face it, a vast majority of Goosebumps books aren't exactly the most original literature. They were published monthly back in the early 90s, and some of them were clearly written in a rush. Some ideas were straight-up lifted from The Twilight Zone, while others seemed to repeat story beats and characters throughout. That said, most of them got by on whimsical charm alone, and my inner horror fanatic couldn't help but feel giddy reading about all these fantastic horror stories that defined my childhood. But once in a while, I stumbled across an unexpected gem.
Off the top of my head, three specific Goosebumps books stand out that really broke the norm: The Horror At Camp Jellyjam, The Werewolf of Fever Swamp, and Welcome to Camp Nightmare. R.L. Stine wears his influences on his sleeve here, and it only boosts these three books' appeal and impact. The Horror At Camp Jellyjam - which is now my favourite Goosebumps book - echoes H.P. Lovecraft's themes of the occult, strange otherworldly monsters, and an impending sense of dread. The Werewolf of Fever Swamp, certainly drawing inspiration from old-school creature features, wonderfully captures a sense of unease and mystery. Finally, Welcome to Camp Nightmare concludes with a genuinely amazing twist that would've made The Twilight Zone proud.
Reading through these books, I couldn't help but feel like they'd be better serviced as a well-made and more mature live-action adaptation today. Along came Netflix's Fear Street trilogy recently that really nailed Stine's young adult writing style about murderers and serial killers. They were targeting teens during their publication in the 90s, much in the same way Goosebumps targeted pre-teens. Yet, the film trilogy seems to cater to the very same readers that grew up reading these books, allowing it to flourish with more mature content while still keeping the same youthful sense of wonder in tact.
So I figured, why not apply this same rule to a new, more mature adaptation of Goosebumps? Yes, even the title of these novels are clearly marketed towards children, but Stine's chilling kids stories have come and gone just as the 90s faded away. A good majority of the Goosebumps fanbase has grown, and let's face it, Goosebumps' relevancy today is only kept alive by the new movie adaptations - almost disconnected from the 90s books it adapts.
Welcome to Camp Nightmare's out-of-left-field twist ending goes above and beyond any themes I could've possibly grasped as a kid.
Some might argue that Goosebumps was only made for kids, therefore the stories it told were kid-friendly and neutered - but after reading the three aforementioned books, that couldn't be further from the truth. The reason why I found it so easy to dive into the Goosebumps series after all these years is the fact that many underlying mature themes were still very much present in these stories. The Horror At Camp Jellyjam features a Lovecraftian monster that eats children, while a devoted cult of indoctrinated adults guide the youthful campers as slaves to their demise. That's not an easy digest for an adult, let alone a kid. Even Welcome to Camp Nightmare's out-of-left-field twist ending goes above and beyond any themes I could've possibly grasped as a kid.
So yes, the Goosebumps books are technically for kids, but it would be incredibly easy to slightly bend the content so that it matched more mature settings, themes and undertones without losing its impact. Dare I say, a mature approach to Goosebumps today might even make these stories better - something that I feel Netflix's Fear Street does well, albeit only marginally better than the books due to its restraint in the antagonists being murderers. With Goosebumps, the sky is the limit for antagonistic forces, and it presents an extremely compelling arsenal of supernatural horrors to utilize.
You wouldn't really need to even stretch the content as far as an R-rating either. James Wan's Insidious is considered an exceptionally good horror with well-crafted scares, and that was just rated PG-13. Goosebumps would certainly benefit from this boost in horror parameters, expanding its scares beyond the confines of only what a kid could handle. Take off its training wheels and allow these stories to reach their horror potential, and you might actually have a great, almost untapped source of terror at your fingertips. Seeing as how Jordan Peele's recent attempts at reviving The Twilight Zone kind of failed, one would only need to see what Netflix's Fear Street gets right - and improve on that formula instead.
Lastly, the audience that would view a new Goosebumps adaptation - the kids who grew up and out of the 90s - are adults now, and would take more fondly to seeing a modern, mature spin on these tales. By mature, I don't necessarily mean the superficial blood, profanity and nudity, but rather a greater exploration of headier themes and more effective scares. Still retain the innocence of having pre-teens as the protagonists, but amplify the supernatural threat. 2019's terrific movie adaptation of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is a prime example of how a new Goosebumps series could shine; yes, it's scary with all the coming of age fluff perfectly in tact, but it presents a market that evidently craves this style of youthful horror revived with a modern twist.
As a '90s kid who grew up in Australian suburbia with little else to do but learn swear words from Jagged Little Pill and develop a slightly macabre mind, I was obsessed with Goosebumps. R.L. Stine's horror series for courageous children kept me up at night, from the horrors of Camp Jellyjam to all that Monster Blood. I used to dare myself to watch Deborah Forte's 1995 TV series, mainly relying on my much braver sister to regale me with the nightmares of each episode as I lurked outside the room.
Hulu's own version of Goosebumps, developed by The Muppets' Nicholas Stoller and Detective Pikachu's Rob Letterman, takes a more serious, soapy, PG Riverdale-meets-Stranger Things tone toward Stine's revered YA horror catalogue.
Set in small-town Port Lawrence, Goosebumps follows a group of five teens (as always): Margot (Isa Briones), James (Miles McKenna), Isaiah (Zack Morris), Isabella (Ana Yi Puig), and Lucas (Will Price), who find themselves unpleasantly haunted by things they encounter while throwing an ill-advised Halloween party in someone's haunted house. Each weird occurrence is pulled straight from a Goosebumps book, with each episode corresponding to one of Stine's most popular stories: Say Cheese and Die!, The Haunted Mask, The Cuckoo Clock Of Doom, Go Eat Worms!, and more.
Are we done with the defiant and reigning trend of '80s and '90s nostalgia in our TV and movies, especially with horror? Netflix's Fear Street trilogy begins in 1994 and has all the '90s slasher references you could ask for. Yellowjackets made a meal of its '90s setting. Stranger Things practically convinced people it invented the '80s.
Goosebumps had the perfect opportunity to seize upon the '80s and '90s obsession still rampaging through our screens by setting itself mostly during the era. The '90s was the decade in which the books were released and a prime era for the writers to really have some fun with the costuming, dialogue, and set design. But while the narrative does enjoy a few 1990s Radiohead-peppered flashback sequences, with Biddle's death occurring in 1993, there's not enough of it.
Overall, Hulu's Goosebumps takes a while to get a foothold with its more serious, soapy treatment of killer cameras, haunted masks, and whatnot, but once it gets there, the core mystery and the script make it an enjoyable series for the spooky season.
Shannon Connellan is Mashable's UK Editor based in London, formerly Mashable's Australia Editor, but emotionally, she lives in the Creel House. A Tomatometer-approved critic, Shannon writes about everything (but not anything) across entertainment, tech, social good, science, and culture.
I've been a fan of goosebumps since an old friend of mine introduced me to the series on Netflix and his whole book collection. It didn't take long before I became invested in the series myself. I absolutely loved it. I saw the 2015 film, I began collecting books myself, and got to know a little more about R.L. Stine himself. At the time, the series was one of many sources of inspiration, creativity, and introduced me to the passion of horror and novella-like hobbies and interests.
90f70e40cf