Why Horror?

A sweltering high summer afternoon is not livened up by opening the lid of a steamy trash can and sucking in a waft of the days-old meat, wrinkly fruits and vegetables, and all those other noxious, unrecognizable clumps of food stewing in the garbage can. Rummaging around in hospital waste baskets is generally not one's idea of a good time. And yet, we are drawn to the horror film, the play of sights and sounds that ordinarily repulses and disgusts us. Why?

For all the disquiet, displeasure, and distress that is imbued in the very nature of the horror film, fans of the genre consistently cite their pleasure at being taken on these visual tours of the macabre. Perhaps this has to do with the fact that even though horror is the only genre (other than pornography) to be denied true, mainstream respect, it is inherently special, and can achieve reactions in its viewers that are lost in the world of musicals, westerns, and rom-coms. 

Horror is all about the repressed. As one can learn from Freud, basic repression is healthy, universal and necessary to the human condition. It is what allows us to transcend from our animal capabilities, that uncoordinated nature of screaming and convulsing, to be a conscious human being. Self-control, the development of thought and memory, the ability to accept the postponement of gratification, and the capacity to recognize and have consideration for other people are all positive outcomes of basic repression of those baser instincts.

But when repression goes too far, when societal conditioning takes hold and forces us (collectively) into monogamous, heterosexual, male, middle-class, working capitalists, then  there is a danger that arises to those who cannot or will not conform, those who then take on the role of "the Other."

Freud was aware, and worried, about a civilization he felt was suffering under the burden of  an insupportable amount of repression. He was also astute in realizing that whatever escaped repression, "the Other," would face oppression from more active, external forces. What then becomes repressed, Other-fied, and oppressed in our culture? 

• Creative sexuality (this fear that one's sexuality will not be sufficiently fulfilled by a heterosexual, monogamous relationship centering around procreation) 
• Bi- and homosexuality (bisexuality being a direct affront to the romantic myth of "the one right person" and homosexuality a threat to the "norm" of restricted sexuality for means of reproduction) 
• Female sexuality/drive (think of how the dominant images of women in our culture are male-created and controlled in order to deny women their independence or sexuality. Assertive, active, and aggressive women are labeled as being a "bitch." Men project their own repressed femininity onto women in order to disown it as inferior--to be called "unmanly," a.k.a. like a woman, is the ultimate insult)
• The poor (myths of working class squalor, immorality, and perversion)
• Other cultures (who can be simultaneously exoticized and eroticized, savagely bestial, and charmingly servile all at once, but never equal)
• Ethic groups within one's own culture (the dominant societal view holds that either ethnic communities should keep to their ghettos and out of the way with their "otherness," or behave exactly as society dictates aside from the "unfortunate" difference of skin color)
• Alternative political ideologies (think of Marxist socialism, so closely linked with Stalinism and practically eradicated from the American education system, yet the connection is essentially the same as confusing the teachings of Jesus Christ with the policies of the Spanish Inquisition)
• Children (the segment of the population lacking the most rights and space for a voice, and yet on whom almost all decisions are made on their behalf. A great deal of fear revolves around the child--fear of their access to information, of exposure, their burgeoning sexuality, the fear of being able to protect and/or control the child until "adulthood," etc.)

You get the picture, and can probably think of a few other examples yourself. And so it is these Others that the horror film affixes itself with, exploring and delving into the collective fears of our Western culture by turning "the Other" into "the Monster." When looking through this lens, it's easy to see the evidence:

• Female Sexuality. From the early days of modern horror, Kenton's Island of Lost Souls (1932) and Jacques Tourneur's Cat People (1942)--which started the long tradition of women being associated with felines in horror films that can be traced all the way up to Alien (1979) and beyond-- among them, the sensual and sexual woman has been either a monstrous threat or in direct danger because of her blatant eroticism. Brian De Palma's Sisters (1973) is a good study of the oppression of women in a patriarchal culture.
• The Poor. There's a reason Frankenstein didn't dress his Monster in a top hat, white tie, and tails and instead chose laborer's clothes. We also have the monstrous, retired-but-still-working slaughterhouse workers of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), the underprivileged Satanic followers in Race with the Devil (1975), the laboring revolutionary battalion of Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), and the voodoo doctors of the Haitian slums in Serpent and the Rainbow (1988), among countless others.

                                                                         

Boris Karloff as the shoddily-dressed 

Frankenstein Monster in 

James Whale's Frankenstein (1931)

• Other Cultures. In the early days of the horror film, particularly during the 1930's, the Monster was almost invariably a foreign agent who threatened domestic, Anglo-European tranquility, the thick-accented Count of Dracula (1931), the aforementioned Monster in Frankenstein, the resurrected Imhotep in The Mummy (1932), who terrorizes a gaggle of wealthy British archaeologists. 
• Ethnic Groups. Diabolic possession and ritualistic child murder are linked with Puerto Ricans and African Americans in The Possession of Joel Delaney (1972) and The Believers (1987), respectively. Black, urban terror manifests itself in the primary setting and title character in Bernard Rose's Candyman (1992). 

Tony Todd as urban-legend-come-to-life Candyman (1992)

• Alternative Political Ideologies. The science fiction/horror mashups of the 1950's, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958), It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), and even Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954),  are generally regarded as being concerned with the perceived Communist threat and nuclear fallout. 
• "Other" Sexuality. Some implicit repression of homosexuality can be claimed in regards to F.W. Murnau's classic German Expressionist film Nosferatu (1922), but there are also interesting explorations of homophobia masked as other fears in a number of vampire films (the fear of "tainted" blood exchanged through intimate contact), like Joel Schumacher's The Lost Boys (1987) and slasher films such as A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge (1985), in which Freddy seeks to "be inside" a teenage boy in order to gain "release" from the dream world.
• Children. We can probably thank Rosemary's Baby (1968) for kickstarting the trend of unsettling children acting as the Monster or the vehicle of evil in horror films such as The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), It's Alive (1974), Children of the Corn (1984), and a slew of other movies, plus the chilling opening of John Carpenter's masterful Halloween (1978).

Harvey Spencer Stevens as Antichrist Damien Thorn in The Omen (1976)

Yes, the horror film violates the social norm in a unique and complex way unknown to other film genres. In a way, horror examines, comments upon, and forces us to question the values and social standings of our culture in ways that even dramas and great epics cannot. What does it mean when the Monster is so closely embodied with the Other and threatens "normality" in a horror film? What does it mean if the Monster succeeds? And what if the Monster is vanquished? Is this an affirmation of traditional, patriarchal values? Or a social comment on continued oppression in our culture?

"Why Horror?" becomes a convoluted question in this sense, in that horror is collectively asking us, "why are you afraid of this? And not this? What does that say about you? About your society?" If all you've ever considered horror films to be is cheap thrills, you may want to think again. As a genre, it's more intellectually complex than that.

This is not to say that all horror films are artistic masterpieces with a message about society woven through the scenes and that they shouldn't thrill you. In fact, one of the great things about the horror film is that there is a unique kind of tension experienced when watching a scary movie that is alien to the drama or the thriller or the romance movie, a kind of tension that produces gesture and physical reaction--squeezing eyes shut, clenching fists, peeking through fingertips, jumping, shouting, cringing, etc. 

Because, sometimes, horror films are just plain fun, damnit. 

Now doesn't that just "scream" fun?

Since horror is at once the most creative and most formulaic of genres, you can have some great comfortable constants to always rely on and still find hidden gems and new surprises in the most unexpected corners. The adrenaline that accompanies a horror film allows the viewer to sensation seek, to live out those repressed moments of the day where you just wanted to smack your incompetent co-worker across the face, or dump hot soup into that horribly rude customer's lap, or pile drive the asshole who cut you off right before the light. Everyone has rage, despite the fact that it's taboo to admit those surges of violence, and what better way to live them out than through the horror film? I mean, come on, there are worse ways one could blow off steam, and worse addictions one could have...

Besides, the horror film can teach us something, or at least present something to us about the world in which we live, even if we're unaware or not looking for it at the time. Horror films are to adults as fairy tales are to children: a way to warn against danger in familiar places. As with fairy tales, however, there are always layered to be peeled, and the danger may not always be as obvious as we first believe it to be. There is always just one more shadow in the horror film, one more question shrouded in fog, prompting as to look closer at the Monster, that repressed and oppressed "Other" figure, and wonder, and ask why? Seeing if we dare to understand, to probe, and venture further into that pitch-black night full of mysteries and riddles.

Seems fitting that most horror films take place in the dark, doesn't it?