Scary Movie
Halloween is almost here -- how did that happen? The turning leaves should have been a clue, but it really didn't hit me until yesterday. I passed by a house with extensive decorations and commented that it was a bit early to be preparing for Halloween. Then I realized that that was a stupid thing to say. The weather is also shocking. It's in the 30s and 40s during the day -- I have to start adapting. And wearing gloves.
I love autumn. When I was younger, I loved Halloween because, in addition to dressing up, it was an excuse to watch scary movies. My dad didn't especially want me to because he worried that they'd give me nightmares (he was generally right, too). As a compromise, he let me rent the original versions of the classic horror movies -- Dracula, The Mummy, Frankenstein. I still haven't seen most of the famous ones -- Friday the 13th, Halloween, The Exorcist, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But neither group strikes me as particularly frightening. The latter (in their modern incarnations, at least) are based on the grotesque, on shock value. Gore correctly synched with the appropriate soundtrack. You jump in your seat at the loud music. But is that the same thing as being scared? Surpirsed, sure. But scared?
I have a tendency to overanalyze scary movies. I think it stems from that early tendency for nightmares. I'd always ask myself, Is this scary? and try to figure out why a movie (or story) bothered me; it was a way of disarming the film, of removing its power. I still wonder -- what is it that terrifies? I still am not sure. But terror is not synonymous with the grotesque, or with shock.
The one film that I remember being genuinely terrified by is not a horror movie. It has a happy ending. It's a musical. What's this strange exception? The Wizard of Oz. That's right. Near the end, Dorothy has been captured by the Wicked Witch and is locked up in her castle. The Witch places an hourglass on the table and says, This is how long you have left to live. When this runs out, you die. I took that literarlly. It's not just that you're going to die -- it's that you know exactly how much time is left. And you have to watch as time runs out. All you can do is wait.
Of course, Dorothy gets her deus ex machina, the Witch her comeuppance. (My brother had to reassure me of this before I would come out of the bathroom and watch the rest). But that still remains one of the only truly horrific scenarios I can imagine: knowing that death is coming, and being powerless do anything but wait.
Which isn't a problem, unless you're human.
I love autumn. When I was younger, I loved Halloween because, in addition to dressing up, it was an excuse to watch scary movies. My dad didn't especially want me to because he worried that they'd give me nightmares (he was generally right, too). As a compromise, he let me rent the original versions of the classic horror movies -- Dracula, The Mummy, Frankenstein. I still haven't seen most of the famous ones -- Friday the 13th, Halloween, The Exorcist, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But neither group strikes me as particularly frightening. The latter (in their modern incarnations, at least) are based on the grotesque, on shock value. Gore correctly synched with the appropriate soundtrack. You jump in your seat at the loud music. But is that the same thing as being scared? Surpirsed, sure. But scared?
I have a tendency to overanalyze scary movies. I think it stems from that early tendency for nightmares. I'd always ask myself, Is this scary? and try to figure out why a movie (or story) bothered me; it was a way of disarming the film, of removing its power. I still wonder -- what is it that terrifies? I still am not sure. But terror is not synonymous with the grotesque, or with shock.
The one film that I remember being genuinely terrified by is not a horror movie. It has a happy ending. It's a musical. What's this strange exception? The Wizard of Oz. That's right. Near the end, Dorothy has been captured by the Wicked Witch and is locked up in her castle. The Witch places an hourglass on the table and says, This is how long you have left to live. When this runs out, you die. I took that literarlly. It's not just that you're going to die -- it's that you know exactly how much time is left. And you have to watch as time runs out. All you can do is wait.
Of course, Dorothy gets her deus ex machina, the Witch her comeuppance. (My brother had to reassure me of this before I would come out of the bathroom and watch the rest). But that still remains one of the only truly horrific scenarios I can imagine: knowing that death is coming, and being powerless do anything but wait.
Which isn't a problem, unless you're human.
posted by AC at 9:15 AM
, Maurice Blanchot
3 Comments:
I think all that analysis holds fear at bay, AC. You can't be afraid and wondering whether you're afraid at the same time. The Wizard of Oz clearly caught you with your defences down! Why do I think this? Because it's what I do, myself. Thinking keeps the scary stuff at arm's length! But you are also right about watching your life count down and being powerless to stop it. That IS scary.
I also remember being thoroughly terrified as a child by a movie that wasn't really intended to be a horror movie, that animated version of "Lord of the Rings" .. Though I'd love to block it from my mind, my mother assures me I couldn't even look at the screen when those awful Orcs appeared
I can't believe that October is coming to an end so quickly. I haven't done nearly enough scary movie watching or reading this month. Its been a weird October. Hopefully the Halloween festivities this weekend will make up for that.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home