Study leave: a time to spend one’s days inside, working at past paper after past paper before emerging milky-eyed, blinking in the sunlight, naturally distrustful of humanity, from which one has segregated oneself, to frantically perform exams in petrified silence. At least that’s what it’s been for me, anyway.
In my opinion, one of the few advantages of leave is that I can adjust my own working hours to my own preferences, meaning that midnight movies are now a distinct possibility prior to a decent sleep and then a full day of study. And what’s the best thing to watch while wired on caffeine at 1 am? Why, a good horror film, of course!
I’ve been a fan of horror for many years. It seems I reached a point in my development as a human at which I started to relish that creeping sense of dread that some inexorable force is coming for you, which seems a pretty bizarre thing to relish, when you think about it. But that’s a character flaw to be assessed some other time, I suppose.
The trouble for me is that mainstream horror has become so vastly predictable that the modern market holds no fear for me anymore. The only real appeal is to go with a group of friends to a film you know is going to be a dive and to laugh at the comical death scenes, which is cruel, I know. But watch Paranormal Activity 4 to see what I mean.
Something seems to have changed with the format and the power of horror films. While once there was a platform for really inventive direction (see The Grudge, The Shining and The Omen), horror directors seem to almost be following a set formula, to the point that I can tell with almost perfect accuracy when the next jump-scare is going to occur. There’s a rhythm to them – a sense of having done it all before. And that isn’t frightening.
That’s not to say that mainstream modern horror films can’t be good. I was a big fan of Insidious (although the second chapter really got on my nerves after a while), and I thought Sinister pulled off a really interesting (if unoriginal) concept pretty skillfully. The issue for me (and it applies to both of these movies) is that so many seem to root their horror in making the audience jump. A good scream is sure to make a convincing trailer, and it’s always fun to see people come out of the cinema trying to appear tough but knowing full well they nearly urinated themselves after the third time the villain’s face appeared right up next to the lens.
The point is that this doesn’t make convincing horror. Yes, the monster made you scream when it was shoved in your face. But go home, turn the lights off and you can sleep with no trouble. The true strength of good horror is that it stays with you, haunting you long after the film has finished. Let’s do an experiment: get a group of your jumpiest friends together, watch a jump-scare-filled horror (pretty much anything by James Wan ought to cut it), count the number of times they shriek with shock, then all turn the lights off and go to sleep. I think they should be able to do so without too much trouble.
Another night, take the same group of friends and watch The Babadook. There are plenty of films I could have named here, but this might be the best recent example. It’s a relentless, insomnia-fueled journey into a deranged mind, brilliantly shot with incredible sound design and a leading lady, Essie Davis, who deserves an Oscar for her performance. While watching, I suspect there will be maybe one scream – possibly two. The rest of the film will probably be spent in rapt silence as the crawling terror of the experience seeps over your victims subjects. Here’s the thing about good horror, though: after the film they’ll be unable to shake the feeling that something is there, watching them. In the film’s own words: “You can’t get rid of the Babadook.”
And it’s films like this that give me hope for the horror genre. With more and more people like myself getting sick and tired of so many studios that look to turn a quick buck using jump-scares and little else to provoke a reaction, more and more really talented directors are stepping out of the indie scene and into the spotlight. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is just one example; only this year It Follows took cinemas by storm and confirmed that relatively indie horror does have a place on the big screen.
Sometimes it feels difficult to have hope for an industry which seems increasingly intent on avoiding originality like the plague. We see several remakes a year and sequels to films which don’t need sequels. The Hellraiser series has 9 films, the last seven of which completely miss the point that made the original so good. Still, though, I can’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation for the next great idea to hit our screens. Whatever you thought of the film itself (I personally thought it tailed off somewhat after the first hour or so), It Follows was a great omen for films to come, and frankly I can’t wait for the next wave of truly original horror.
What can I say? I’m a hopeless optimist.
Owing to those pesky exams and the whole uni thing, this will probably be my last ever article for the Sixth Form Journal. With that in mind I want to thank Tony for starting it in the first place and all the writers for making it the thought-provoking magazine that it is. I’ve had an absolute blast writing for it, and it’s cool to think that such an excellent publication was content to give my nerdy, snobbish rantings the platform they definitely do not deserve! Long may the Journal continue.
The Sixth Form Journal 