For many, family entertainment often treads familiar ground. We’re accustomed to seeing parents struggling to connect with their children, kids embarrassed by their folks, and marital misunderstandings galore – the classic sitcom tropes. However, the Addams Family gleefully subverts these clichés, not just in the beloved 90s movies like The Addams Family and Addams Family Values, but throughout its entire spooky and kooky history.
While those iconic films might be many people’s entry point into the Addams Family universe, my own introduction to this endearingly eerie family was through television. I vividly remember watching reruns of the Addams Family Animated Series from 1992, and even braved the 1998 live-action “New Addams Family,” despite its arguably sacrilegious alteration of the iconic theme song. Fuzzy recollections linger of a direct-to-video movie starring Tim Curry as Gomez. Later, in high school, I sought out and enjoyed episodes of the original 1960s sitcom. Therefore, it’s safe to say I’m well-acquainted with the peculiar charm of the First Family of Halloween. And one thing stands out unequivocally: the Addams Family is a remarkably unified group, bound by genuine, unironic love for one another, a portrayal rarely seen in family-centric media.
Of course, maintaining a television series entirely devoid of conflict is a challenge, and interpersonal disagreements do surface in every TV iteration of the Addams Family. Yet, the 1960s series immediately establishes a defining tone right from its first episode. The Addamses are undeniably strange by 1960s suburban standards, and their sincere obliviousness to why others find them odd typically generates enough amusing misunderstandings to fill a 22-minute episode. This comedic premise forms the bedrock of humor in all versions of the Addams Family narrative. “Normal” society simply doesn’t grasp them, but crucially, this “normal” perspective is never validated. This approach is mirrored in the celebrated 1991 and 1993 movies. Instead of pitting family members against each other to ultimately learn they actually care (the typical family movie arc), these films adopt an “us against the world” narrative, often catalyzed by the well-meaning chaos of Uncle Fester.
“Have you ever noticed Fester is always the source of the trouble in these movies?” my mother observed during our annual viewing of The Addams Family and Addams Family Values. Indeed, I had noticed. And I believe it stems from the fundamental truth that the Addams Family is simply too cohesive to be fractured from within.
Every Halloween (and Valentine’s Day, for that matter), social media feeds are flooded with memes declaring Gomez and Morticia “couple goals,” and rightfully so. How many yearn for a partner who gazes at them with adoration even after years together, someone who perfectly complements your own brand of weirdness, and equally shares the burdens of home and parenting? What made Gomez and Morticia stand out in the 1960s was precisely this: they were a married couple deeply, passionately in love, a stark contrast to the prevalent “lazy husband/nagging wife” trope. Their relationship is the unshakeable foundation of the family, with no cracks in sight. To introduce significant discord between them would fundamentally miss the point. Similarly, unlike typical sitcom children, Wednesday and Pugsley genuinely share their parents’ fascination with the morbid and macabre. Therefore, the predictable plotline of children feeling misunderstood by their parents is simply not applicable. And while Lurch, Thing, and Granny are beloved characters, they lack the narrative weight to drive the central conflict of a 90-120 minute movie. This naturally leads us back to Fester.
Poor Uncle Fester. Before the 1991 and 1993 movies, his primary role was comedic relief, arguably the oddest member even within a family of eccentrics. However, in both films, the main plot is driven by scheming individuals who exploit Fester to plunder the Addams family’s considerable fortune. While the overarching plots are similar, they differ in execution. The first film presents a tightly woven narrative where the entire family faces adversity together, while the second film expands its scope, featuring a delightful subplot involving Wednesday and Pugsley at a hilariously exclusive and subtly prejudiced summer camp for privileged children. One could argue that Fester’s vulnerability to these schemes, particularly in the second movie, arises from the seemingly unattainable perfection of Gomez, Morticia, and their children’s bond. Living amidst such unwavering love and happiness could easily ignite feelings of loneliness, driving him to seek connection, even if it leads him into the clutches of the delightfully devious Debbie Jelinski. Yet, even when manipulated by those from the “normal” world, he never entirely loses sight of his inherent weirdness, the very essence of being an Addams.
A notable deviation from this pattern is the 2019 Addams Family animated series movie, which I experienced for the first time recently. Here, Fester reverts to his comic relief role, and the antagonist is a woman embodying gentrification, attempting to force the Addams family into a more “normal” mold. Uniquely, in this version, the family is isolated from the outside world, and Wednesday yearns to explore life beyond their secluded existence. This Wednesday isn’t yet fully aligned with her parents’ peculiar interests; rather, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery throughout the story, ultimately embracing her entire extended family for their quirks. These and other subtle narrative shifts mean the family dynamic isn’t precisely identical to earlier iterations, but the heart of the Addams Family remains. In-law jokes are minimal. The humor retains its characteristically over-the-top nature. We still witness a passionately devoted couple who cherish their children and nurture their individuality. In this animated film, they demonstrate this by accommodating their children’s desires, even when unconventional. Similar to Addams Family Values, where the kids are sent to camp against their initial will, the parents believe it’s a desirable experience and choose the “best” camp, despite their own reservations. In the 2019 film, Pugsley is allowed to adapt a family tradition to better suit his talents, and Wednesday is permitted to attend public school at her request.
My sole disappointment with the animated movie lies in its animation format. The sheer joy radiating from veteran actors Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston as Gomez and Morticia in the ’91 and ’93 movies is palpable, and the prospect of Oscar Isaac and Charlize Theron embodying these roles in live-action would be incredibly exciting. But that’s a separate discussion.
It shouldn’t be revolutionary to portray such a healthy and loving family dynamic in our media, but perhaps that’s precisely what makes the Addams Family so enduringly special, and why each generation continually rediscovers them. Every individual encountering this family, whether for the first or hundredth time, likely sees something they aspire to in their own lives. It might be the aspirational “couple goals” of Gomez and Morticia’s relationship, or more broadly, the profound sense of acceptance and love offered by people who are just as wonderfully weird as you are.
