What Makes Horror Terrifying: A Look Through The Ages
By: Emily Holson
Long story short, what scares people is subjective. Be it goblins or ghouls, taxes or mortgages, or simply the Lovecraftian threat of decay, it’s as though a part of our being reserves itself to be terrified. However, that which portrays the horror, for the most part, has remained somewhat of an unspoken rule, and one easily changed at that. Today, we’ll be examining the shifts in horror as a film genre, tying down the specific story beats and scrutinizing tropes that terrified us through the ages.
Realism
If one’s suspension of disbelief stretches far enough beyond the confines of reality, the threat can be discarded upon exiting the theatre.
The fear that follows us home walks on two legs.
Jonathan Demme’s “Silence of the Lambs” (1991) portrays a grounded story of dread and horror: an FBI trainee consults one killer, Hannibal Lecter, in order to catch another. While some may argue that the inclusion of cartoonish names such as “Hannibal the Cannibal” and skin-suits pull away from realism, it is the overwhelming reflection of real-life stories and acting that ultimately grounds the film. Hannibal Lecter is a grounded, polite individual that aids our protagonist through her hardships. In an uncomfortable portrayal of workplace sexism, the cannibalistic serial killer is the one who aids and supports our main character.
That’s terrifying— seemingly unrealistic, but terrifying. When paired with character traits from real-life killers, the villain of the story becomes a new type of horror: one with its roots planted firmly in the ground.
Another example of realism serving the horror genre is Fritz Lang’s 1931 thriller “M”, depicting the man-hunt for a child murderer that lurks undetected amongst a German town.
While the threat of a murderer is terrifying alone, the fact that our killer’s appearance arrives so late into the film amplified the dread. For a good half of the movie, we have no face to put with the crime. When he does make his appearance, however, it’s sickening: he’s walking along the street, whistling a tune. He’s anxious, just as anyone would be before walking into work. He’s undeniably human.
2. Surrealism
On the contrary, perhaps fantastical fears hurt the worst. Grounded horror must abide by the confines of reality, after all, and humans have proven to be masters of explaining reality. When faced with a being so unimaginable and grotesque that it follows its own set of rules, how do we cope? Simply put, we don’t.
Robert Weine’s 1920 classic “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” starts somewhat grounded. Two men in a small German town encounter a hypnotist and a somnambulist— often referred to as a sleepwalker— that claim to predict the future. However, by the time that a prophecy is foretold and a murder committed, all constraints on reality have seemingly dissolved. The walls contort, shapes mold into one and the murderer becomes as intangible a concept as the film’s experimental production design. The fear that the one responsible is floating above the heads of humanity, never to touch ground yet doomed to kill again, terrifies the characters as much as it does the audience.
Williams Nigh’s 1940 film “The Ape” portrays a similarly bizarre yet intriguing fear, in that the animalistic urges to kill derive from humans. In search of a polio vaccine and short on the spinal fluid needed for such, a doctor seizes chance and hides within the skin of a dead gorilla to both kill his victims and evade suspicion. While not one of the more prestigious films in the list, “The Ape” succeeds in portraying reality as something akin to a jungle. Disease takes what it wants, as does the ape.
Even our most assured sanctuaries perish to the hidden face of man’s cruelty. As bizarre as it is, the film seems reckless in its message. Almost animalistic…
3. Dread
One aspect of Ari Aster’s 2018 film “Hereditary” that truly screams is its overwhelming silence. The film’s family suffers one loss after another, until such tragedies can be explained only as the malignant machination of a cult. As far as cult flicks go, however, the occult’s presence here dwindles when compared to the sheer amount of paranoia. Every shot whispers something that should be shouted, and every shadow is a threat. By the end of it, the audience’s conception of reality has been so heavily oppressed that the gore becomes somewhat freeing.
Anything to escape the overwhelming silence.
Steven Spielberg’s 1978 classic “Jaws” similarly embodies the essence of dread. It could be for the simple fact that our titular shark remains unseen for a majority of the film, just as it could be John Williams’ bone-chilling score. Either way, by the end of the film, calm beaches and sunny days run red.
There are countless more movies and concepts I could cover, but overall, I find that a horror movie’s success at tackling both surreal and realistic plot points, as well as its ability to evoke dread, truly define how deeply it resonates with audiences. Give these films a watch; they’ve terrified before, and they’re sure to terrify again.