I imagine that
disrespecting 50 Shades of Grey on Monday, then praising Monsters University on Tuesday casts
me in a certain light. I will not be helping my case at all today by saying
that I don't really care for horror.
It's not a hard and
fast aversion. I have liked a lot of movies that could probably be classified
as horror. I don't make it to nearly as many movies as I would like to, though,
so I have to prioritize, and that's pretty much never what I end up choosing. I
am most likely to make the effort on my own for documentaries or foreign films
that I think might be hard to see later. I also end up at things my sisters
want to see, but which are usually comedies, kids films, or art films, because
they have someone else they go see action and espionage movies with.
I mention this
because what I am going to write about horror is largely second-hand. It's not
my thing, but I know a lot of people who love it, and the complaint I keep
hearing, over and over again, is that the movies are not scary.
Talking about it
with one friend, my theory was that it was because of the lack of novelty.
Every thing that comes out is a sequel or remake or a reboot, which is
essentially a remake with the promise of sequels. The familiar tends not to be
that scary. Even when you have a new film that breaks the mold, it quickly gets
sequels and imitators, diluting its effect. The Blair Witch Project did
scare some people. So did the first Paranormal Activity. It sounds like
its been downhill from there.
I read a piece I
really like on Unwinnable, for their Fear Week:
One thing author
Brian Bannen points out is that the older horror films often had some subtlety
to them. You didn't always see the creature, but also, he points out some
distortion and visual tricks used by John Carpenter for The Thing.
That's going in a completely different direction. Not only is the danger
something unfamiliar, but even the things around you that should be familiar
aren't quite; something is off about them.
That works because
you are unsettled. Studios don't seem to trust that anymore. Everything is big
and in your face, but that doesn't automatically translate to more frightening.
Instead it ends up being more gross, or more sadistic. That desensitizes the
audience, which again, is not a way to frighten them more.
It also tends not
to be a way to get the audience more invested in your characters, which could
be a source of anxiety. If I am fearful during a film, it is because I have become
invested in the characters. Making the characters toys for your twisted
manipulations may devalue them to the audience, and making them horrible people
who deserve it still doesn't help.
Bannen ends on an
optimistic note, believing things will come around again. My optimism varies,
depending on the day. I mean, my own potential success as a filmmaker pretty
much depends on someone gambling on doing something original, focusing more on
making a good movie than on building a blockbuster.
But you know, there
are no guaranteed blockbusters. Sometimes good movies languish in obscurity,
but sometimes they find their audience and they are hits. Sometimes movies with
huge budgets and all the key formula ingredients tank.
I want to make
movies, but I also want there to be good movies. There's nothing quite like
one.
And if my friends
want those good movies to include scary ones, then I want that to happen too.
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