Oh, the horror

I suppose I could do a self psychoanalysis about why horror is routinely my pick, whereas friends suggest Judd Apatow or Jon Lucas films to accompany their bowl of popcorn. It could be because I grew up in a church- taught the difference between good and evil, or because I wasn’t allowed to trick or treat and am having subconscious adult rebellion. But really, the truth is that it is the only genre that pulls me from reality and I’m not left making parallels and projecting my own happenings unto the screen. They are fixating. I’m not terribly critical of the genre as a whole, but have *personal criteria for a successful scare: I am not into a film based around extreme gore and violence. For example, though actually somewhat clever, the Saw phenomenon does not appeal. Also, as any other motion picture, the story must come full circle. Horror can tend to leave you hanging, and I’d prefer to be suspended, then released into an ending that squares off with the unknown, and satisfyingly leaves suspicion that more could be possible. An obvious example, House of Wax. In the past few months I’ve seen over 50 horror films, and have come to realize that children and the elderly cause the highest level of fright. Children, (Children of the Corn, Case 39, Orphan, and those darn twins from The Shining) lend such an amount of trepidation, probably because little ones are meant to be sweet, not inherently evil, or possessed. The elderly, (Devil, Drag Me to Hell, that movie where disguised lunatics torment an isolated diner because the world is altering with a dark cloud overhead, etc) make for chilling characters. When you’re alone, that haunting image serves as a lasting souvenir.

I sent the photo below to my mother as a little prank to spook her. Her response, ‘You would fit perfectly in one of those Dawn of the Dead movies’ Shucks mum, you really do love me. Zombie and all.