To do this, the monster, who is a knotted mess of roots from the medicinal yew tree, informs Conor that he will tell him three stories. But when the third is finished, Conor must tell the monster a fourth story, and it must be a true story. The first two rival the darkest Grimm's fairy tales (the unedited ones). Over and over again, they offer up only the most stone-cold lesson: Life is unfair. Seemingly bad people win, and seemingly good people lose. “There is not always a good guy. Nor is there always a bad one,” the monster tells Conor when he points out the injustices. “Most people are somewhere in between.”

This realization, combined with the monster helping Conor get in touch with his anger, ultimately allows the boy to tell the fourth and final tale. It is about his recurring nightmare, the one in which the graveyard in his backyard opens up and tries to swallow his mother. And while he manages to hold on to her, as she hangs off a cliff, he ultimately lets go. Only after he tells the monster this can he begin to move past the guilt he feels, both for letting go in the dream and occasionally wishing his mother's death would be over in real life.

If it sounds dark for a story that originated as a book for teens, it’s because it is, but that's what makes the movie so great. It deals with death and the emotions that surround it head-on. And considering that's something even adults have trouble doing, the effect is quite liberating.