rense.com


Horror Films Rise
From The Grave
Who Scares, Wins

By Russell L. Blaylock, MD
3-17-6 
 
The horror movie has risen from the grave. Christopher Goodwin examines why today's audiences are baying for blood
 
Just a few years ago, Hollywood had all but declared the horror movie dead, the last drop of blood drained from its lifeless corpse. Even modern masters of the genre such as Wes Craven, who had terrified two generations of audiences with films like The Last House on the Left (1972), The Hills Have Eyes (1977) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), had veered into parody - even self-parody - with Scream (1996) and its sequels. Young audiences, it seemed, had become far too wise to the tricks of the trade to be scared any more. Horror had become a laughing matter.
 
It's not funny any more. This week sees the release of the remake of The Hills Have Eyes, produced and co-written by Craven, and directed by Alexandre Aja, who made the cult French slasher movie Haute Tension. And in two weeks, Hostel will be released, directed by the American film-maker Eli Roth, with Quentin Tarantino as executive producer.
 
What most distinguishes these two films, and a crop of others such as Saw and Wolf Creek, is their astonishing goriness and unrepentant sadism, the degree of which has not been seen on screen since the British Board of Film Classification banned so-called "video nasties" such as The Driller Killer and I Spit on Your Grave in the mid-1980s. The characters in these films use and abuse saws, drills, gouges and any other device they happen upon, inflicting literally eye-popping, bone-cutting, artery-squirting, toe-crunching violence on those to whom they have taken a dislike. The difference these days, though, is that the kind of horror films that were once sold under the counter in Soho are now mainstream cinematic fare, often distributed by divisions of the major Hollywood studios.
 
And young audiences all over the world can't get enough of them. Saw had a $1m budget and grossed $55m in the USA and $47m internationally; Saw II cost $4m and grossed $87m in the USA, and nearly as much overseas. Hostel, which cost less than $5m and features scenes of astonishing and unrelenting cruelty and brutality, has taken nearly $50m in the USA since its release at the beginning of January. The film tells the cautionary tale of two young American men and one Icelander who end up in Bratislava because they're told the Slovak girls are crazy for foreign guys. They are, but not in the way they think.
 
Even the makers of this new breed of celluloid gore are happy to acknowledge the baseness of their intent. "The best part of seeing Hostel with an audience is seeing people pass out and vomit," Roth said recently.
 
Why has horror made a comeback, and why is the new ultra-gore so attractive to adolescents today? Adam Simon, who directed the documentary The American Nightmare (2000), believes it's impossible to understand horror films without looking at the social context in which they are made. In The American Nightmare, the leading horror directors of the 1970s and 1980s - Craven, George A Romero, John Carpenter, Tobe Hooper and David Cronenberg, all of whom came of age in the 1960s - make it clear how many of the most horrific visions in their films were informed by images they had seen on television: of lynchings, brutal police attacks on civil-rights marchers, the slew of televised violence that Vietnam became, the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy. Their films fed on and translated into terrifying fantasy the dread and anxiety of those times, and their sense that the American dream their parents had believed in proved to be just so many dangerous and bloody lies.
 
"I think there is something about the American dream," says Craven, who started his working life as a literature professor, "the sort of Disneyesque dream, if you will - of the beautifully trimmed front lawn, the white picket fence, mom and dad and their happy children, God-fearing and doing good whenever they can - and the flip side of it, the kind of anger and the sense of outrage that comes from discovering that that's not the truth of the matter, that gives American horror films, in some ways, kind of an additional rage."
 
That rage and intensity had dissipated by the time the likes of Halloween, Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street had spawned their numerous sequels. They became tired, exploitative and far less terrifying. Hence the success of the Scream parodies from the mid-1990s.
 
Many people credit M Night Shyamalan, with films such as The Sixth Sense, Signs and, most recently, The Village, with bringing horror back into the mainstream. Tarantino, though, has been far more influential. He made ultra-violence ultra-cool again, and paved the way for the latest bucketfest of horror gore. More important, he has also championed some of the Asian horror directors whose films seeped into the video underground in the 1990s. Mainly from Japan, but also from Korea, these directors have been the most important stylistic influence on American horror directors in the past decade. One is Hideo Nakata, whose Ringu was remade by DreamWorks as The Ring (2002) and took $130m at the US box office, and as much overseas. Nakata directed last year's sequel, and Dark Water (2005), directed by Walter Salles, was also based on one of his films. Another is Takashi Shimizu, whose Ju-On was the basis for The Grudge, which took $110m in the US.
 
Many of these American remakes featured starry actresses: Naomi Watts in the Ring films, Sarah Michelle Gellar in The Grudge, Jennifer Connelly in Dark Water. And other A-list Hollywood actresses have parlayed their thespian credentials into leads in horror films, including Halle Berry in Gothika (2003), and Nicole Kidman in The Others (2001). These actresses have helped bring about one of the most important revolutions in horror in the past decade: they have brought young women into the cinemas to watch films that used to be the domain of the adolescent male. They come to see, and learn, how these female characters fight back against the terrors that confront them. Fifty-five per cent of the American audience for The Grudge was female, for example.
 
"I remember going to theatres showing the first Ring," Walter Parkes, who produced the film for DreamWorks, told Variety last year. "You would see groups of three and four teenage girls all peering out from under one overcoat over all of their heads. It was a surprise to me."
 
Adam Simon believes much of the appeal of horror, particularly the new, extremely bloody kind, for western adolescents is that these films "have always been the equivalents of tribal rites of passage, of psychological endurance. But the traditional rules of horror films, from how to safely kill a vampire to the slasher guidelines parodied in Scream, made the audience feel safer. This new generation of horror films doesn't play by those old rules". The Asian originals, and sometimes their American remakes, are disturbing principally, as the writer Mike D'Angelo suggests in Esquire, because of their "sense of uncertainty, the unnerving feeling that rationality is a luxury we can no longer afford".
 
Simon believes this latest profusion of blood and gore can in part be attributed to the horrific and appallingly graphic images easily accessible on the internet today. We have all seen the images of brutality, sexual sadism and torture from Abu Ghraib, and the execution videos, which have featured on-camera beheadings, put out by the insurgents. "The renewed emphasis on physical torture in these films seems to directly restage these images," he says. "The same kids lining up to see Saw II or Hostel know exactly where to go online to see execution videos from Iraq or uncensored footage of bodies falling on 9/11. In a world where both sides in a potentially endless war have tossed out the rule book, it certainly shouldn't be a surprise that the new breed of horror film mimics this rulelessness and sadism."
 
But this kind of extreme violence, believes Simon, presented within the safe confines of the four walls of a cinema, has a tangible benefit: it allows adolescents to begin to figure out how they can confront their own psychological fears, and the dangers and violence the world seems to want to inflict upon them.
 
"It's cultural homeopathy," he says, "a little dose of poison to protect you from the real poison. Suicide bombers don't watch horror films for inspiration or comfort; their potential victims do." Or, as Tobe Hooper, director of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, puts it in The American Nightmare, these horror films allow us - and, in particular, adolescents searching for their own identities - to begin to face "the stuff in the darkness, the stuff in the shadows and in particular the stuff that we don't open the door on".
 
And it's all bloody good fun, of course. Or is it?
 
Copyright 2006
 
 
The Horror Film -
Genius, Garbage & Everything Else In Between
 
By Marty Murray
3-18-6
 
The other night I was talking with a couple of my co-workers about movies, and we got onto the topic of horror films. I pointed out the fact that many movie critics are seldom kind to this genre, mainly because really good horror films are very few and far between. One fellow, who is a big fan, felt that this was just a result of snobbishness, and the fact that people are entertained by these movies and enjoy them, and show those results at the box office, are reasons enough to prove those critics wrong. As with many artistic endeavors, I think it's all a matter of personal taste and quite subjective, but I'm going to lay out my ideas of what makes a truly good horror film, and what doesn't, and play Stephen King here for a little while.
 
I'm a boomer, so I grew up with the "classic movie monsters" - Frankenstein, Dracula, the Wolf Man, even Godzilla. To tell you the truth, I never found any of these creatures particularly frightening, though I suppose if I met one of them in real life I would have been terrified. It was more the atmosphere of the films, the fact that they contained otherwordly beings, and that they were an escape, that appealed to me.
 
I guess the first true horror story was Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein." Written when she was only a teenager, as the result of a contest between herself, her husband, the poet Percy Shelley, and the equally infamous poet Lord Byron, to see who could come up with the most frightening story, she wrote her terrifying tale of a dead man brought back to life after a horrible nightmare. Soon she would be followed by the Irish author Bram Stoker, with his "Dracula," based on the bloodthirsty life of the Romanian Count Vlad Dracul, and adventure writer Robert Louis Stevenson's "The Strange Case of Dr. Jeckll and Mr. Hyde." The thing that all three of these stories have in common is their depth, and the disturbing nature of their subject matter.
 
The thought of the dead being somehow able to come back to life, but without a soul and thus being unconscienable killers or little more than human predators, was no doubt very frightening at the time, and remains so, and has been mined in modern films such as George Romero's "Living Dead" series. The vampire myth and its surrounding culture is more popular today than ever, in part due to its combination of sex and the supernatural. Author Ann Rice built an entire empire upon it, and now we have people walking around who really think that they are actual vampires. Stevenson's Dr. Jeckyll was based on a real-life Scottish criminal who lived a double life - one of priviledge and respect during the day, and one of a thief and decadent hedonist at night. Basically the story spoke to the fact that all of us have the capacity for evil and violence inside of us, and the scary aspect of it was what would happen if we were unable to keep that darker part of ourselves safely locked up and under control.
 
To me a truly great horror story, or horror film, is something that touches the hidden parts of ourselves - something that reaches for our inner fears and that disturbs our thoughts and our illusion of a normal day to day life. So much of today's so-called "horror' is nothing more than displays of brutal violence, usually directed against women. I'd be just as afraid of some psychopath trying to kill me with a big knife every time I was getting undressed or having sex as the next guy, but does this truly qualify as horror? Roller coasters are scary too, and so is flying down some back country road late at night with a buddy at the wheel who's drunk out of his mind, but can you call either of those things "horror?" We all have fears, and the fear of being killed in a violent manner is no doubt one of the biggest ones, but I think a good horror movie should be more than that.
 
To me, most modern films of the genre are simply cop-outs, playing on the most basest of fears and that strange combination of sex and violence that so many people seem to find compelling. Sex is a sin, and so it must be punished. It's a result of our unique North American upbringing, no doubt based on our Victorian and Puritan ancestors, that for years allowed films to show, for instance, a person being shot in slow motion with a machine gun, or a person's head exploding, but wouldn't show a couple making love. No, that's "dirty," and you can't look at it, because you might get ideas!
 
Myself I've always felt that sex was a more healthy outlet for my feelings than wanting to blow somebody away with a shotgun, or murdering my wife with a huge knife, but maybe it's just me?
 
The fact is that there is nothing "cool" about violence as it occurs in real life. Movies make it look exciting, thrilling and sexy, but in reality it's just plain ugly, brutal, and affects peoples' lives for years to come. If all I wanted to see was people being killed in horrible and inventive ways, all I have to do is switch on the evening news.
 
I have a couple of friends who are film buffs, and some of us have said that the last truly good horror film that we saw was "The Blair Witch Project." Everything really scary about this movie existed in your mind. There was little, if any, actual graphic violence. It was the idea of what was happening to the characters that made the story get inside your head, and had you thinking about it for days afterwards. Hitchcock's "Psycho" was like that, and so was "The Exorcist" and more modern fare like "Angel Heart" and "Jacob's Ladder." I guess the first great horror film of the modern age was George Romero's "Night of the Living Dead," featuring not only disturbing ideas and imagery, but also graphic violence for its time. Some films, such as "Invasion Of The Body Snatchers," have combined science-fiction and horror, as well as a socio-political slant, into a separate sub-genre. The fear of falling asleep has been mined since, in the Freddy Krueger "Nightmare On Elm Street" series, to great effect. Another fairly recent horror film I myself enjoyed immensely was the first "Hellraiser." A great yarn, though very violent, and once more, disturbing on a psycholgical level.
 
As for films I've seen lately that have caused a bit of a stir, "The Ring" was visually interesting, but the story really made little sense, and "28 Days Later" exists as an interesting variation of the end of the world myth, but again, there were aspects of the story that were so implausible, I just couldn't accept it. The remake of "Dawn of the Dead" was a good action flick, but it was more exciting than it was scary. The zombies in these movies are nearly comical figures in many ways, and I suspect there is an underlying theme of social commentary in some of them.
 
As I have said to a number of friends, the scariest "monster" I think I've seen in any movie was Dennis Hopper's portrayal of the criminal psychopath Frank Booth in "Blue Velvet." Why? Probably because I've known a person or two who reminded me of him, and so one is constantly reminded that such people do indeed walk this earth. That is truly disturbing!
 
http://www.mortyscabin.net
 

Disclaimer






MainPage
http://www.rense.com


This Site Served by TheHostPros