Review: Stitch Head is an instant spooky season classic
We're in the thick of spooky season which, for many people, means it's a time to watch a lot of horror movies. I'm one of those people. While I'm honestly not that into Halloween as a holiday, I love this time of year, especially what it means for my viewing habits. And alongside the scarier and more intense fare, I always love to include some stuff that skews a little younger, lighter, more fun, while still operating in the season's vibes. And Stitch Head is a wonderful addition to that lineup.
Our titular hero is a little bit Frankenstein's monster, and a little bit Igor. He looks like a little kid who's been stitched together, his head a little baseball-esque in particular. He's an adorable little guy, and one who's so easy to root for. He's sweet, soft-spoken, helpful, and clever. And all he wants is to be loved.
The film deserves lots of praise, too, for its visuals, music, and cast. As I already said, I love how these characters look, and the world is lively and full of neat little spooky details, like a castle tower that looks like a gaping maw. The music is jaunty and jazzy, sometimes with a nice little Elfman cant to it, other times bopping off in other directions. And the voice cast is stellar all the way across, led by the impeccably-cast Asa Butterfield as Stitch Head. It's a fantastic ensemble.
Based on the book written by Guy Bass and illustrated by Pete Williamson, writer-director Steve Hudson and his crew have made something really special here. Stitch Head operates within some of the strong thematic and narrative legacies that make monster movies so enduring and powerful, and does so with a light touch and a big heart. And by doing so, it's one of those movies that might serve as an early gateway for younger viewers to start gaining interest in the horror genre, which is always a treat.
Our titular hero is a little bit Frankenstein's monster, and a little bit Igor. He looks like a little kid who's been stitched together, his head a little baseball-esque in particular. He's an adorable little guy, and one who's so easy to root for. He's sweet, soft-spoken, helpful, and clever. And all he wants is to be loved.
Inside the mountaintop Castle Grotteskew, a mad professor spends his days making monstrous creations, each more impressive than the last. But as soon as a monster is made (brought to "almost life," trademarked, patent pending), the professor's attention immediately turns to his next project. Each one is sure to be his greatest creation yet. Meanwhile, the newborns are left in the care of Stitch Head, the professor's first creation, and one who yearns for his master to glance his way.
Stitch Head runs the new monsters (such as Creature, pictured above) through a quick sort of training camp, where they're taught to tamp down their monstrousness, be quiet, make sure to never be seen by the humans of the town below. Because if there's too much monstrousness, the humans will form an angry mob and attack the castle. Which, yeah, sounds about right. The way the idea of the angry mob rules these monsters' lives is played to great comedic and ironic effect. They absolutely ruled by fear, so easily thrown into a full-blown panic by the mere mention of a mob, and even their bedtime stories can only manage to end with the monsters having "almost lived happily ever after."
Stitch Head ends up leaving the castle to join Fulbert Freakfinder's traveling carnival, drawn by the promise of being loved by audiences who are in the mood to be scared. The movie cleverly illustrates that odd mixture of attraction and repulsion to what we find strange, off-putting, and scary. The townsfolk lining up to get a moment of face time with Stitch Head isn't unlike us going to the theater to watch a horror movie. Maybe we'll cry, or puke, or wet ourselves. That's half the fun.
But that's only the tip of the well-formulated thematic iceberg at play here, one that is so classically horror. I took a class on horror back in my college days, and one of our books for the class was The Dread of Difference, edited by Barry Keith Grant. It's a fantastic and illuminating read, and the title is one that is always on the tip of my tongue when I talk about horror. It's certainly at play here, with the monsters fearing the humans and the humans fearing the monsters, neither really knowing much of anything about the other, except that they are an "other." It's like the Beauty and the Beast lyric: "We don't like what we don't understand / In fact it scares us!" That's like a bedrock theme of horror.
And it's such an important area of exploration for a movie that kids will watch. In my lifetime, I've watched the social pendulum swing further into acceptance for difference, and now seemingly far far back in the other direction. It's a scary world, not because there are so many different people in it, but because there are people who hate that everyone isn't the same. 
And on the monsters' side of the story, there's that additional layer of emotional resonance that will ring out differently for many viewers. The monsters are monsters, yet they're told out of the gate to not be monstrous. To hide who they are, to shrink themselves, to not be true to their nature. As a gay man, I of course read it as a gay allegory, but it could just as easily be read about a variety of other identities that are seen as dangerous or wrong or weird or whatever else by hateful bigots. 
So there's a real joy, and a catharsis, to the path that Stitch Head takes, not just as the two groups (spoiler alert) learn to love each other, but also as the monsters learn to love themselves. (I won't quote Ru Paul here, but know that I am tempted). The monsters' designs are so wonderfully weird and varied -- they look more like Sid's toys from Toy Story than the characters from Monsters, Inc. -- and you can't help but love them all, even the ones who don't get a ton of screen time. And it's lovely to watch them come into their own, and to be embraced by their human neighbors. Hell, I even love that this ends with one of those "all the characters are dancing together" scenes that used to feel like obligatory cappers to animated movies. I haven't seen one in a while, but here, it felt like a delightful and well-earned capper to a heartfelt story.
The film deserves lots of praise, too, for its visuals, music, and cast. As I already said, I love how these characters look, and the world is lively and full of neat little spooky details, like a castle tower that looks like a gaping maw. The music is jaunty and jazzy, sometimes with a nice little Elfman cant to it, other times bopping off in other directions. And the voice cast is stellar all the way across, led by the impeccably-cast Asa Butterfield as Stitch Head. It's a fantastic ensemble.
Stitch Head is one of those movies that just does everything right. It finds its perfect little niche in the intersection between horror and family animation, tells its sweet story with aplomb, and leaves you with a smile on your face. It's a perfect addition to any spooky season movie lineup.
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