Horror fans have to start somewhere. You don’t just watch a VHS copy of Cannibal Holocaust and immediately start loving the genre (or at least I hope not), and that’s why Gateway Horror is so important. Like training wheels for spooky media, these stories are meant to introduce audiences to the recurring tropes and iconography of the genre without necessarily resulting in nightmare fuel. That being said, a lot of horror fans mistake that sentiment for Gateway Horror not being allowed to be scary, which simply isn’t true.
The ideal Gateway Horror story works on multiple levels, with creepy elements light enough to avoid traumatizing the casual viewer but ideas scary enough to entertain even the most jaded of horror hounds. To me, the perfect example of this exceedingly difficult balance is Cartoon Network’s Over the Garden Wall, a 2014 mini-series that explores the horrors of the Unknown through innocent eyes. And with Halloween now upon us, I’d like to take this opportunity to look back on how the show managed appeal to both pre-schoolers who enjoy singing animals and fans of vintage horror who pine for gothic narratives.
Created by Patrick McHale, who’s best known for his work on Adventure Time and The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack, Over the Garden Wall was a passion project that took a decade to hit the small screen. McHale first came up with the concept way back in 2004, though it wasn’t exactly the show that we know today. Originally titled Tome of the Unknown, the series was meant to be comprised of self-contained “chapters” about a pair of brothers who make a literal deal with the devil. This project would slowly evolve into something completely different as McHale gained more experience working on other shows.
After repeated pitches, with project proposals ranging from a three-season TV show to a feature film, McHale ended up producing a pilot episode of Tome of the Unknown in 2013. Titled Harvest Melody, this charming yarn already features Elijah Wood and Collin Dean as our sibling protagonists, with the pair encountering a musical gathering of vegetable people and their natural predators. While there are a few discrepancies when compared to the final show (such as the talking bird Beatrice being played by Natasha Leggero instead of Melanie Lynskey), the ingredients were all in place for a captivating series.
Nothing says “kid’s show” like a lantern powered by the liquified souls of lost children!
Naturally, the pilot was a huge success, with Cartoon Network even releasing it as a short film and garnering numerous festival awards. The following year, Over the Garden Wall would finally be released as a limited series in early November, just shy of the original goal of a Halloween premiere. In this updated version of the story, we accompany brothers Wirt and Gregory as they attempt to find their way home after becoming lost in the supernatural forest known as the “Unknown”. Throughout their journey, the pair encounters all manner of fantastical beings, from dancing pumpkin villagers to singing frogs – not to mention an eldritch Beast who transforms lost children into cursed trees.
Like the short film before it, the show was incredibly well-received, with media outlets celebrating it as an even bigger success than McHale’s previous work. While most reviewers commented on the miniseries’ impeccable artistry, praising its visual style (which was inspired by old-timey photographs and illustrations from classic literature) and operatic presentation (with much of the supporting cast being comprised of singers and songwriters), what I find the most impressive about the show is how it contrasts moments of genuine child-like whimsy with elements of unadulterated horror.
McHale has snuck adult themes into his family-friendly work in the past, with Adventure Time boasting plenty of mature side-stories and Flapjack hosting a series of infamous cutaway gags like this memorable one, but Over the Garden Wall is especially versatile in its use of cartoony presentation to mask ideas that would be legitimately terrifying if presented in another context.
For example, there’s the House-of-Leaves-like architectural horror of Mad Love, where Quincy Endicott’s mansion became so large that it merged with a neighboring house and neither inhabitant ever noticed, with each one believing that the other is a ghost haunting their property. There’s also the near-Lovecraftian predicament of Christopher Lloyd’s Woodsman who must keep his lantern perpetually lit in order to keep the flame of his daughter’s soul alive, not knowing that the oil which fuels his lantern is derived from helpless children. Hell, there’s even the Wendigo-like Beast, with his horrific true form being revealed through a bona fide jump scare!
“Are you ready to see true darkness??
And that’s not even mentioning the creepy ideas that didn’t make it into the final series, such as skinless witches and monsters that make dice out of children’s bones. While a few of these were excluded in an effort to keep things kid-friendly, a lot of stuff ended up on the cutting room floor simply because the show’s initial 18 episodes were eventually reduced to a more manageable 10.
On their own, several of these concepts could have formed the basis for adult-oriented horror narratives, but here they’re used as a canvas to explore a childlike fear of the Unknown. While many of the darker ideas will probably soar over little kids’ heads, like how the Unknown itself is likely a form of purgatory/limbo and how the Edelwood trees are a reference to Dante’s Inferno, horror aficionados are sure to appreciate the sly genre references.
However, what really makes Over the Garden Wall so special is how it subverts these horrors by contrasting them with the series’ more endearing elements. While several of the show’s cutesy designs disguise terrible truths, some initially scary characters are also later revealed to have been benign all along. These frequent twists make turn the story into a spooky fable, reminding viewers that things are not always as they seem and even the darkest horrors can be overcome with the right attitude.
With the show boasting a legitimately compelling narrative while also looking like a vintage Halloween postcard, I think it’s safe to say that Over the Garden Wall remains a worthy addition to Spooky Season marathons everywhere. It’s also definitive proof that “for all ages” doesn’t mean the same as “made for kids”, and that’s why this modern Grimm fairy tale is a perfect example of Gateway Horror done right, as it embraces its wholesome elements as storytelling tools rather than limitations.
