By 1964, the big monster revival was in full swing, at least for those of us that considered ourselves "Monster Kids". Local stations had been working their way through the Shock Theater package of syndicated vintage horror films several times over the past few years, usually brought to you by a wonderfully silly local horror host. Hammer Films and American International Pictures, among others, had been churning out cheap monster pictures for a new generation at drive-ins across the country. Monster magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland were selling out at news stands and drug stores. When the Monster Kids weren't prowling neighborhood theaters and staying up late to catch Bela Lugosi on TV, they were hiding out in basements, burning brain cells by putting together monster models with toxic glue.

Universal Studios had milked a couple of horror movie cycles in the 1930s into the 1950s, building a pantheon of beloved classic monster characters. What were they doing to get in on the action, besides licensing Frankenstein masks and Dracula paper dolls? The answer, on the surface, was a bit disappointing. The last use Universal had made of their monsters in movies was in a series of spoofs starring Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. Instead of re-establishing the characters as the top movie chill-makers, they decided to play them for laughs yet again. The mid-'60s were also years in which the supernatural sitcom came into its own, with witches, robots and geniis popping up in domestic environments. Universal joined this trend by creating a family of monsters.

However, series producers Joe Connelly and Bob Mosher, creators of LEAVE IT TO BEAVER, were quick to realize that in order to last, the show would need more than its one joke premise. Viewers might tune in to see the Munster family inadvertently scaring "normal" visitors for a week or two, but they'd need legitimately interesting characters and a great cast to be a success. They found both in the cast of the successful TV comedy CAR 54 WHERE ARE YOU? Fred Gwynne made Frankensteinian patriarch Herman Munster into a giant clumsy kid that children were instinctively drawn to. Al Lewis instilled his irascible Grandpa Dracula with the flavor of burlesque schtick. Predictably, early episodes were built around the comic reactions of visitors to the family home at 1313 Mockingbird Lane, such as dates brought home by "homely" cousin Marilyn. But by the time Pat Priest took over as Marilyn for the departing Beverley Owen (who chose marriage over career) in episode 14, the pair of multitalented actors had established a great deal of chemistry. Yvonne De Carlo, who had at first enjoyed top billing as Herman's vampire wife Lily, formed the crux of this comic triangle, alternately scolding and fawning over her numbskull monster hubby.

Many episodes were built around the outrageous interaction between the Munsters and the "normal" world, such as the sports episodes in which super-strong Herman was discovered by wrestling promoters or (in one classic episode) Yankees manager Leo Durocher. But quite a few simply played off situations growing naturally out of the character personalities, such as the one in which a dissatisfied Lily gets a job as a fashion model, or the one in which Herman loses his job at the funeral parlor after Lily nags him into demanding a raise (John Carradine appears as Herman's boss Mr. Gateman in this show). Supernaturally based gags about son Eddie (Butch Patrick) biting the neighbors were only window dressing, or a way for naturally funny situations to be exaggerated further. Of course, the series was at its best when these facets were combined, as in the final show of the first season, in which Herman rescues a boy whose head is caught in a metal fence. Neither party is able to convince their family of this simple yet slightly fantastic incident, resulting in a story which is both funny and poignant, without overdoing either. Though much of the material was lowbrow and corny, it was still funny, and critics and viewers alike responded to the show, appreciating both the gimmicks and the high quality craftsmanship. And then there were the common guest stars, from Paul Lynde as a nearsighted doctor to garage band the Standells. Too bad Nick Adams never stopped in for a visit, as Herman jokes about him more than once. Did they know he was in Japan making FRANKENSTEIN CONQUERS THE WORLD at the time?

As for the Monster Kids, they loved the show, despite some puzzlement over details. Some wondered what Eddie is supposed to be: is he a vampire or a werewolf or what? Why were the Munsters nocturnal on some episodes, but keep more mundane hours otherwise? Why don't we ever see the vampires drink blood, or actually sleep in coffins (Herman and Lily were the first TV couple to sleep in the same bed)? Why don't they have Transylvanian accents? How is it that Herman has a twin brother? Why don't they ever kill anybody?

Did the writers know that by ignoring the monster "rules" they were starting thousands of schoolyard fights?

Forgiving the lack of continuity, it was a huge kick to see these monsters every week on TV, and the fans got in on the fun. Hey, so it's highly unlikely that Lily's uncle could be the Creature from the Black Lagoon. It was still funny when he came to visit, asking if he could get out of his dry clothes.

Universal seasons the first 38 episodes on three two-sided discs, presenting them in broadcast order. One or two episodes are plagued by some scratches, but for the most part they look wonderful, retaining the series' dark black and white cinematography. Each episode comes with Universal's now standard directional subtitles. It's actually a little harder to read subtitles that pop in all over the screen under whoever is speaking, but it may help those with hearing problems follow things. Audio is clean and crisp, though some episodes are louder than others for some reason, making adjustments necessary when selecting the "play all" option.

Unfortunately, though background information on the show fills whole books, documentaries and websites, none of it is retained on this set. The only extra here is the 15-minute color pilot, with Joan Marshall as Herman's wife "Phoebe" and Happy Derman as a very lupine Eddie. It's interesting to see this footage, especially in pristine shape (blurry bootlegs have been around for years), but it's easy to see why changes were made. Most of the script ended up as the third pilot "My Fair Munster", the second episode shown, with Al Lewis still wearing a long fake nose. For some reason, both pilots have their sound slightly out of sync.

Hopefully, with only 32 more episodes left for season two, Universal will see fit to pack the second pilot, the hour long "Munsters at Marineland Carnival" special made in 1965, commentraks by surviving principals, and other such material the fans would like under the same cover. Speaking of which, the disc's digipack folder is an especially clever design, which comes in a box that opens something like a coffin. A nice ghoulish touch.