"Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" is more than a collection of campfire tales.

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019), based on the book series of the same name and directed by Norwegian filmmaker André Øvredal (Trollhunters), successfully ties completely unrelated spooky stories together into one narrative.

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The film follows horror-obsessed outsider teen Stella, along with her loyal and equally outcasted friends Chuck and Auggie. (Misfits, assemble!) The filmmakers waste no time setting the tone of the film; we are immediately thrown into a small town of rural (suburban? There are cornfields, though...) Pennsylvania, on Halloween night 1968. We follow the teens as they attempt to prank cool-guy and bully Tommy Milner, who's clad in a varsity jacket and sporting big hair, with a baseball bat as his weapon of choice.

Running from Tommy and Gang after their prank is carried out, the group takes refuge in a car belonging to curious drifter Ramon, who joins their ranks as they later explore a local haunted house after escaping the jocks (to their knowledge.) Not much time passes until the bullies track them down, and subsequently lock them in an underground room. The dungeon-room ends up belonging to the deceased Sarah Bellows, a family member of the Victorian mansion who has long been the subject of a local legend, described as a child murderer.

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Thankfully the kids are released, unthankfully as is a scary, dark cloud-like presence belonging to Bellows. We later find out that protagonist Stella couldn’t resist taking a book of scary stories written by Bellows from the house (there’s always that one in horror films, otherwise where else would the plot come from?) To her and Ramon’s horror, a story begins to “write itself” in the stolen book, titled “Harold” and starring Tommy. Meanwhile, the story being written in the book is actually happening to the real-life Tommy as he collects eggs for his mom at a cornfield near his home. This sets up the happenings for the rest of the film, with stories being written and occurring shortly soon after, as Stella and friends race to stop Bellows’ presence from targeting and killing innocent kids.

For those of us familiar with these classic spooky stories, we know how chilling they are. But we also know how they bear no correlation, which makes Scary Stories’ plot all the more impressive. For every tale, there’s a new monster, and for every monster, there’s an inner fear we tap into, based on the victim. This layers the film's characters in such a way that when the ending hints at a sequel, we are pleasantly surprised.

Another message of this film is intensely vocal and alludes to a much more serious horror than creepy scarecrows coming to life. Throughout the story, Ramon -- who is Latino -- is subjected to racist slurs and eventually confesses his previously withheld backstory. His very appearance on screen makes audiences look twice, opening up a broader discussion -- the treatment of minorities in 1960's small-town America. Normally, stories with this setting would really only feature white kids, (because that was the norm back then) completely overriding the reality that minorities still existed in these majority-white areas. The film's writers deal with Michael Garza's Ramon in a refreshing way, inserting him right at the center of the chaos and directly opposite of Zoe Colleti's Stella, instead of forcing him into the token minority kid trope. The result is harmonious, with the novelty of Ramon's character-type working well with otherwise nostalgic tropes (nerdy outcasts, a jock doubling as a bully, and a popular girl dating said jock-bully, who is also the object of an awkward misfit's desires.)

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What I like about this film is that no one is recognizable; we are given fresh faces. Because of this, actors/actresses look and feel the part. After searching them up, I saw that only Austin Abrams (Tommy) has a Wikipedia page of the core youngsters.

Producer Guillermo del Toro’s chillingly beautiful influence (Pan’s Labyrinth, The Shape of Water) is visible, after having his original story for the film adapted by screenwriters Dan and Kevin Hagemen. There’s a gorgeous mix of wide and close shots, building suspense mainly through scenes absent of volume (which I, of course, hated.) This keeps you on the edge of your seat as you're either unable to tear your eyes away or you're unsure when to peek after covering them, depending on the type of person you are.

Would I recommend? Yes, primarily for the nostalgia, for the Stella-Ramon dynamic, and the individual story subplots. Although, one small thing that was a minor annoyance (to no fault of the creatives behind the film) was the film's early August release. I was thrust into the autumnal/Halloween/pumpkin-spice mood, but was met with 90-degree late summer heat when I left the theater. If you’re someone who cares about this sort of thing (I get it), but maybe opt for waiting (or watching again) in the much more fitting month of October. I know I will be!

On top of all that, Lana Del Rey's "Season of the Witch" rendition is EVERYTHING.

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