I have come to see the gift the horror genre has to offer the world.
Let me say this first: I know many people who would firmly assert the opinion that the horror genre has no gift to offer at all. They would argue that horror, whether you are talking about books or movies, has no value. I think, for example, of my mother, whose commentary to me as a teenager about any movie involving graphic violence was, “Why would you want those pictures in your head?”
I have a good friend who I respect immensely who would agree with my mom. He’s a stanch pacifist, and he won’t watch any film that includes graphic violence. I’m not saying that my friend or my mom are nuts for holding these views. I’m not even saying they are wrong. I suppose a great many people do not and will not appreciate certain kinds of artistic expression, and that’s fine.
What I am saying, however, is that horror does have something to offer. Something more than just blood and guts.
I once read that Stephen King said that one reason he writes what he writes is because, in creating demons and monsters for us to fear, we deal with our actual fears in the extreme. In some cases, we escape from our fears altogether, as the villains of horror often outmatch our fears considerably.
(The truth is, Stephen King said something like that, but I don’t recall exactly what it was he said or where it was that I read it. It’s entirely possible that this was not his point at all, but that his comments have simply morphed into this idea in my head. However, as Stephen King is a loyal reader of my blog, I’m sure he’ll promptly set the record straight if I have misrepresented him in any way.)
Okay, so what’s my point, right?
My point is that in fearing the boogie man, we learn to deal with fearing the real, day-to-day horrors that we face. Sure, if the credits roll and you can’t put the gore out of you mind, you won’t have created much of an escape for yourself. But if you can leave the book or the movie on the shelf when it’s all done, then there is real value in the ability of horror to so completely captivate, literally scaring our truest, deepest fears right out of us.
Some of you are rolling your eyes. I can feel it. You think this is a bunch of bunk. You’re entitled to your opinion. Me? Oh, I’m going to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre again and lose myself in the demented thrill of horror.
And, believe it our not, I’ll come out the other side with a little less stress.
I understand your point…but think it is a bit of a stretch to frame it as a gift from the horror genre. I think that people, myself included, watch horror films for several reasons…like the mentioned temporary mental vacation and stress release. I would also add the more subtle…to work out inner issues and it is just plain fun to be scared. I do not deny that these types of genre are contrary to Phil 4(as you know)and far from lovely,excellent or praiseworthy.
Is it possible to truly leave the thoughts, ideas or feelings from the book,the printed words that tends to permeate much deeper than the passive and perhaps somewhat disengaged viewing of a flick on the shelf? It may not be in the foreground, causing you to become a sociopath or a homicidal maniac but it’s there…isn’t it? Doesn’t wrestling with the uneasiness that the film really leaves you with cause more stress than the temporal release?
left by Bree on 11.02.2007 at 1:24 am