An ooky childhood story:
One day while hanging out with my best friend looking for something interesting to film with my Super-8 camera, I’d decided it would be fun to take my Evel Knievel doll (excuse me, action figure) and record the results of setting him ablaze. Certain that just taking a match to him wouldn’t produce the desired conflagration, my friend and I conferred on just what sort of household ingredient we could add to make him more…well, combustible. We decided to tell my father about this project and we figured we were on safe ground if we asked to borrow a can of spray paint. Walking a little nervously down to the seclusion of his basement man cave, we made our request. At which point, he turned to us and deadpanned:
Why not just use kerosene?
Now, my father is a guy who flies his own plane and used to make his own bullets, so maybe that shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. It was probably a funny double take to witness happening between my friend and I, though, as we stuttered our agreement, nonplussed but trying hard to appear overly mature about it even as our early-teenaged minds raged into overdrive with interior monologue: Oh yeah yeah we’re gonna play with fire!
Dad monitored our irreverent experiment in backyard pyrotechnics, but I must confess the outcome was pretty disappointing—Evel rather laboriously melted instead of exploding into a monster ball o’ flame, his right arm the first thing to slowly, very slowly, drip to the ground. It was less Raiders of the Lost Ark than a would-be masterwork by Len Cella, but it goes a little ways towards explaining why, given the ever-popular if frivolous choice between The Addams Family or The Munsters, I can’t help but put myself firmly in the Addams column.
We’ve been told the secret to your Addams-versus-Munsters preference is partially rooted in class/financial distinctions. We’re told the Addamses, being obscenely rich, are the choice of the similarly well-off (or at least those of the upper-class mindset), while the working-class Munster clan is much more relatable to the blue-collar viewer. Who’s to say how well that theory holds up in general, but I don’t exactly have my own stock ticker in the house, shall we say. I’m more prepared to believe this aspect of the choice rests in how the families think about and deal with their money, or lack thereof.
Money doesn’t really matter so much to the Addamses; Gomez (John Astin) flushes more of his money down the toilet in any given episode that most people see in their lifetimes, and what’s more, he couldn’t care less. But you also get the feeling the acquisition of material wealth wouldn’t be a priority if he didn’t have piles of cash and stock investments to spare. Herman Munster (Fred Gwynne), in contrast, is a bumbing but good-hearted patriarch you recognize in sitcoms from The Honeymooners to The Simpsons. He’s got to hustle for every dollar (I can’t remember if there was ever an episode where Grandpa put his lab skills to use printing money, but you get the impression they’re too honest for that), so you can see how people who have to do likewise in a daily grind would have more respect for and bond more easily with the Munsters.
Next, there’s the central relationship between the couples. Herman and Lily (Yvonne DeCarlo) are the classic American married couple. They enjoy a fully domesticated sense of companionship. Herman’s no Don Juan; he looks like a real doofus in his nightgown, but he has everyman dignity. There’s much impatient bickering over Herman’s many failings and misadventures, but it’s balanced with the kind of sturdy familial loyalty most would envy.
Speaking of envy, though, there’s something to be said about the level of passion we see between Morticia (Carolyn Jones) and Gomez Addams. It’s the great achievement of the series that Morticia is always putting off her “bubula” (“Darling, later”), and while we never set foot in their bedroom (I’m pretty sure of this, but would be eager to be corrected with the specific episode and/or scene) it’s vividly clear that they have a rather, uhm, “active” offscreen relationship.
Your preference here, I suppose, arises from how you’d rather your mate regard you on a daily basis. Do you want her (or him) to keep you on the straight and narrow? Munsters. Would you prefer him or her to exist in a state of daily delusion, happily championing your every misbegotten act of folly as just another demonstration of your misunderstood and ill-appreciated genius? Addams.
Introvert? Check: Addams. You get the impression they would be happy never leaving home, though they’re most gracious when entertaining (“When people come to see ‘em…”). The opening Munsters credits are all about each and every member of the family leaving the house (except housebound Lily, bless ‘er) for the perils and pleasures of the “normal” world. Extrovert? Score: Munsters.
(My Morticia is a major-league extrovert and shares my Addams adoration, so that will have to stand as ‘pataphysical proof that yes, there are indeed exceptions to every rule.)
Then there are the kids. I like Eddie (Butch Patrick) well enough, but I refer you to back to the story at the top. That’s an Addams story, so I observe that my own personal history is reflected much more through the experiences of Pugsley (Ken Weatherwax) and Wednesday (Lisa Loring). I didn’t have a werewolf teddy bear or sleep in a casket; I did, however, spend a good bit of time trying to figure out how I could build my own miniature torture chamber. (Being not too mechanically inclined, I never realized that dream. As I recall, I couldn’t persuade my dad to put the table saw to use for that purpose.)
Grandpa (Al Lewis) or Uncle Fester (Jackie Coogan)? They’re equally handy in their own ways, but they’re also frequently irksome problems around the house. Ask me to choose between Grandmama (Blossom Rock) and Marilyn (Beverley Owen, Pat Priest), and I guess my Addams orthodoxy will be sorely tested.
My family did name our first dog Lurch, so I guess that pretty well closes the coffin lid.
