The Beatles song may be cool, but it turns out, becoming a walrus is pretty horrifying.
From hopeless romantics with gills to baby monsters who are merely confused, here are
some horror movie monsters that deserve some sympathy.
It's hard not to feel some level of sympathy for the 1933 version of King Kong.
He's just a big monkey, a massive critter you want to give a pat on the head rather
than flee from in terror.
His sheer size in comparison to the human characters makes it believable that he'd be
a threat to them simply by not looking where he's walking.
Still, just by being a primate, Kong has an endearingly cuddly quality to him.
His likeability becomes even more apparent once he climbs to the top of the Empire State
Building.
Having ascended above all other New Yorkers with a lady in his hand, Kong seems like he
may reign supreme.
However, a sortie of airplanes begins shooting at him, making his doom certain.
It's here that the most richly empathetic scene in "King Kong" occurs, as the audience
witnesses the ape slowly realize that he's not getting out of this scenario alive.
In the end, Kong is a tragic monster, an animal forced into a bustling city and then slaughtered
for being frightened by his unfamiliar surroundings.
This excellent piece of stop-motion animation cements Kong as one of the most sympathetic
movie monsters in history.
"It was beauty killed the beast."
The character that all other sympathetic horror movie monsters are modeled after, Frankenstein's
monster as portrayed by Boris Karloff, makes your heart ache more than he makes you scream.
Under the direction of James Whale, this creature is depicted as a being thrust into a world
he can't comprehend and villainized for not understanding how conventional society operates.
His creator has cursed this Universal Monsters icon with an existence defined by ostracization
and insecurity.
The sympathetic qualities of Frankenstein's monster become even more apparent in "Bride
of Frankenstein," the second appearance of this iteration of the character.
Here, the cruelty of the local townspeople is especially apparent, particularly in a
sequence depicting these folk disrupting a friendship between the creature and an old
blind man.
"This is my friend!"
"Friend?
This is the fiend that's been murdering half the countryside!
Good heavens, man, can't you see!?"
The overwhelming loneliness of Frankenstein's monster leads him to demand his creator make
him a companion, but even the titular bride cannot stand this monster.
Loneliness and repulsion follow the creature wherever he goes.
The powerful tragedy defining this interpretation of "Frankenstein" remains influential to this
day for a reason.
Most popular versions of Godzilla have been made loveable for general audiences.
Even the incarnation seen in the 21st-century MonsterVerse is painted as a heroic figure,
even if he's guilty of kicking King Kong around.
The 1954 iteration of Godzilla is much darker than later installments in the franchise like
"Son of Godzilla," but it still presents the big lizard as a sympathetic character.
Chiefly, the creature's existence hinges on man's obsession with nuclear weaponry.
A metaphor for the use of the atomic bomb on the Japanese populace by American forces
in World War II, Godzilla's very presence is a warning against the use of nuclear arms.
"Godzilla" doesn't just provide a parable for the dangers of nuclear warfare, it also
instills a sense of tragedy in Godzilla even being around in the first place.
He destroys everything in his path.
"Raging through the streets on a rampage of total destruction!"
There's no denying that, but he also never asked to exist in the first place.
He's a byproduct of humanity's hubris, not a creature who seeks out our world and decides
to burn it all down.
Of course, the design and black and white cinematography of "Godzilla" still make this
one of the most intimidating visions of the beast.
However, there are still plenty of elements to ensure audiences are at least somewhat
sympathetic to Godzilla's plight.
Some monsters want to ward away humans from a great treasure or item they're guarding.
Others are just hungry and looking to chow down on people.
Then, there's the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
This member of the Universal Monsters lineup, referred to as "Gill-Man," is driven by romantic
yearning rather than just a hunger for bloodthirsty violence.
Specifically, Gill-Man is enamored with Kay Lawrence.
This infatuation becomes so intense that the climax of "The Creature from the Black Lagoon"
revolves around Gill-Man kidnapping Lawrence and taking her to his domicile.
Romantic infatuation does not justify kidnapping people, but the motivation for Gill-Man's
behavior is thoroughly unique among movie monsters.
Gill-Man is made even more sympathetic because Lawrence and the other members of the expedition
she's traveling with choose to intrude on this beast's territory.
Gill-Man is initially just curious before becoming frightened by these newcomers in
his midst.
This isn't a monster that goes out of his way to kill people; he's just responding to
the interlopers who are invading his territory.
Though he may not resemble any conventional human being, Gill-Man's exploits in "Creature
from the Black Lagoon" are grounded in human desires.
As we've been establishing, big horror movie monsters capable of destroying cities are
often more sympathetic than they appear.
King Kong, Godzilla, and so many other beasts may look like rampaging monsters on the outside,
but they're usually more complicated and technically less "monstrous" than human antagonists.
This trend was reinterpreted in fascinating detail with "Colossal," which presents viewers
and the film's protagonist, Gloria, with the incredible sight of a monster attacking Seoul.
The audience soon understands the nuances of this monster, though this depth is revealed
in a unique way.
Rather than the monster being misunderstood, it's revealed that the monster is actually
a being that Gloria unconsciously controls while she's wandering around in a playground.
"What is it doing?"
"It's dancing."
"It's dancing like?"
"Holy s—!"
The beast is a physical manifestation of how Gloria's actions affect others without her
realizing it — a wake-up call for the ripple effects of her behavior.
The sympathetic nature of the monster in "Colossal" comes from seeing it as an allegory for parts
of Gloria.
Her relatable flaws are given a fleshy vessel within this Godzilla-esque creation.
"Colossal" is a unique twist on the idea that monsters can be more human than even the human
characters in a creature feature.
Seth Brundle, the protagonist of David Cronenberg's "The Fly," has a relatively normal life at
the film's start.
He has a steady job, a burgeoning romance with a journalist named Veronica "Ronnie"
Quaife, and ambitions of changing the world with the teleportation pods that he's developed.
While testing out those pods, he discovers something has gone awry.
A fly has made its way into the teleporter.
Soon, he finds himself transforming into a human-fly hybrid.
As his body deteriorates, he slowly becomes a massive human-sized insect devoid of the
humanity that made Brundle so endearing at the outset of the film.
It's impossible to watch "The Fly" and not get wrapped up in this monstrous beast's plight,
especially since Brundle's transformation into the titular creature is entirely incidental.
"I'm saying I'm an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it…but now the dream is
over."
It's a fluke that a fly got into those teleportation pods and set Brundle down the path to being
a monster.
Plus, Brundle's resistance to what he's becoming, including his final plea of "kill me" to his
lover, only heightens the sense of tragedy surrounding his experience.
Podcaster Wallace Bryton is not a monster at the beginning of "Tusk."
However, his quest to interview oddball Canadian local Howard Howe ends up turning him into
one, as Wallace is gradually transformed into a walrus.
Trapped inside Howard's home, Wallace is torn apart and then put back together again by
this demented and disturbed human being.
This body horror tale eventually leaves Wallace unable to speak, only able to communicate
through muffled screams and roars akin to the noises real walruses make.
"Walruses never cry!"
The climax of "Tusk" sees Wallace becoming especially monstrous in a duel with Howard,
the latter decked out in his own walrus costume.
This fight results in Wallace killing Howard, impaling him with one of his tusks and reveling
in his victory in a grisly fashion.
It's clear through this instance of decidedly pronounced violence that Wallace has become
a monster unlike any other in horror film history.
However, his unwilling transformation into such a creature makes him a tragic and sympathetic
figure, particularly in an epilogue that hints that Wallace retains some hint of humanity.
Wallace fits right in with the long history of movie monsters that break our hearts.
The 1953 mystery movie "The Maze" ends with a terrifying reveal of who's been running
the mansion that the main characters have been staying in.
This domicile belongs to Sir Roger McTeam, who is a human-sized frog.
The beast chases the protagonists across the estate, roaring menacingly.
His rampage comes to an end when he flings himself out of a top-story window.
Once he's dead, it's explained that McTeam was a man who, while in the womb, never evolved
into a human being.
Hence, McTeam was doomed to look like a massive amphibian while possessing the intellect of
a human and cognizance of his situation.
The ending of "The Maze" is bonkers.
It's the kind of twist ending that could've only existed in 1950s B-movie horror cinema.
Given how he's practically pushed up the stairs by supporting characters in his climactic
rampage, McTeam isn't exactly terrifying.
However, he very much qualifies as a horror movie monster, and you can't help but feel
a twinge of sympathy for him.
Besides, you probably wouldn't be in the best of moods if you were doomed to live out your
days as an abnormally large frog.
Given Bong Joon-ho's love for subversive genre entertainment, it shouldn't be a surprise
that his monster movie, "The Host," is much more than a "Godzilla" knock-off.
In "The Host," the monster emerging from the sea to cause chaos is Gwoemul, which initially
appears to be the primary adversary of the feature.
However, as teased in a prologue, this creature exists only because of the negligence of the
American and South Korean militaries.
As the film goes on, government forces become even more adversarial, falsely announcing
that the Gwoemul is carrying a virus in a bid to control the population.
By the end of "The Host," the government is even willing to use a toxin called Agent Yellow
to subdue the beast – regardless of how it will affect the general population.
Gwoemul is eating people, so it's not like this monster is devoid of menace.
However, he wouldn't even be around to terrorize people if it weren't for the actions of powerful
people who are often the greatest enemy in "The Host."
The Universal Monsters get much of their iconic stature from running with the idea that strange-looking
beasts can have feelings.
The titular monster of "The Wolf Man" is no exception.
Much of the sympathetic nature of this particular creature comes from his origins.
While out with his romantic crush Gwen, Larry Talbot hears Gwen's friend, Jenny, in trouble
and races to save her.
The young lady is being attacked by a wolf.
Larry promptly kills the animal with an ornate walking stick topped with a silver wolf's
head — but not before the beast, that he later discovers is a werewolf, bites him on
the chest.
With this chomp, Larry is cursed to be the Wolf Man.
Larry's forced existence as a violent creature of the full moon is not the result of hubris
or an ironic punishment for a behavior defect, but rather the result of him trying to help
another human being.
This tragic detail lends an instantly sympathetic quality to his existence as the Wolf Man.
The viewer's heart aches even more for this guy by the time the third act arrives.
Larry tries to leave town to minimize any potential carnage he can wreak only for his
father to step in and tie him down — even though his father doesn't believe him.
"Now you'll see that this evil thing you conjured up is only in your mind!"
Larry didn't choose to be the Wolf Man, and he tries to minimize the beast's fury when
he can.
Those are actions that define the enduringly interesting and sympathetic qualities of a
great Universal Monster.
In "Cloverfield," audiences never get much insight into the mindset of the monster that's
tearing up New York City.
After all, the protagonists are everyday people who capture the events of the film on a camcorder
by happenstance.
It wouldn't make sense for them — or the viewer — to know too much about the creature
that's reducing everything around them to rubble.
However, the artists behind "Cloverfield" had a very concrete backstory concocted for
this being they dubbed "Clover."
Talking to Animation World Network, creature designer Neville Page noted that Clover is
a baby of its species.
Awakened and separated from its parents and normal habitat, the monster is terrified of
all the unknown things around it.
Clover proceeds to smash up New York in a horrified frenzy.
There's no malice towards the human race or a complicated evil plot at work here – just
primal fear.
Of course, incorporating this detail didn't mean skimping on Clover's terrifying nature.
This monster still causes untold amounts of collateral damage.
However, this unspoken backstory lends more than a hint of tragedy to this creature, making
Clover arguably more sympathetic than the oftentimes uncouth human leads of the film.