By skyforbes My theory:
Really good monster movies understand that the creature itself isn’t actually what we care about. It’s merely a storytelling engine. A threat that forces the characters to act, and a device that exposes their convictions, fears, flaws and courage. In many cases it even works best when the monster is barely shown. When the creature remains a mystery lurking in the shadows rather than a spectacle on display, the focus shifts to the characters’ emotional journey rather than just the special effects (even though well-done effects can be super cool to watch in themselves).
In Alien the xenomorph is horribly frightening (kudos to H.R. Giger), but the film actually works so well for me because the creature stays hidden most of the film rather than being flaunted, unlike the recent series where they show it way too much ultimately making it less scary. I don't want to fully understand it physically or see it clearly. It's even scarier as something I don't really understand. The point is watching Ripley be pushed to the brink of insanity, adapt, and fight for her and Newt's survival. She isn’t a hero at the start of the movie, but by the end she rises to the challenge and her emotional journey is what resonates with me.
I feel the same way about Jurassic Park. The dinosaurs are amazing to look at, especially back then for a 90s audience, but the emotional core is the vulnerability of the children and the scientists, who suddenly become childlike themselves. We experience awe and terror through their eyes. The film starts with the promise of a fantastical dreamland, but as that dream collapses, it turns into a nightmare we must survive alongside them. Beyond the mere physical danger, Alan Grant also has to confront his avoidant fear of becoming a father figure and actually have to bond with the kids. That’s why the film is so much deeper than the Jurassic World sequels, which (in my opinion) fail in making me care about any of the characters and therefore also in the dinosaurs.
Godzilla Minus One technically shows the monster very early, but it still follows this principle using it as a storytelling device rather than the main character. Godzilla is terrifying not just because of its size, but because it symbolizes guilt, grief, survivor’s shame, collective trauma, etc. The film uses the monster to tell a story much bigger than buildings being destroyed. The script uses the monster to tell a story about the characters and makes me care about the characters first.
Conclusion:
When modern monster stories fail, it’s usually because they flip the formula and treat the creature as content instead of metaphor. The monster should be a storytelling device, not the main character. In my opinion, the creature is never the point. What it awakens in the characters and in us, is.