I must begin this column by pointing out that I like superheroes. Their story arcs give me that soaring feeling, and I like the overarching American narrative embedded in our most popular superhero narratives.
Having said all that, autumn is creeping into the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains, the sunsets are moodier, and a velvet darkness is creeping around the edges of everyday life.
Which means it’s time to discuss a genre that doesn’t win as many prestigious awards as drama, and doesn’t make nearly as much bank as the superhero genre, but is integral to my being and the being of many others: horror.
This year I’ve become convinced that horror is one of the few hotspots of genuine originality in movies today.
Again, I love superheroes. But the MCU, for example, is always building on itself. Its message of hope is strong, but audiences want and deserve more than that. Meanwhile, besides big-name franchises, the movies are awash with sequels, prequels, reboots, remakes, and otherwise safe bets.
Horror, by contrast, simply refuses to play it by the rules as of late. This is how we wound up with a giant naked zombie chasing a dad and his son under a dazzling Milky Way in 28 Years Later (OK, you’re going to say, that’s also technically a sequel, but it’s also dizzyingly innovative and breaks new ground for Danny Boyle and Alex Garland). This is how we get a feral zombie briefly bonding with a human as she gives birth – and the scene, not played for laughs, becomes something powerful. Something even hopeful; not in the MCU style, but hopeful nonetheless.
This is how we also wound up with this year’s Bring Her Back – one of the most heartbreaking ruminations on grieving a loved one I’ve ever seen, not just in horror, but on film in general. There’s no big name actors in Bring Her Back, and no in-jokes. It’s just a brilliant, bloody study of how far a human being will go to try and vanquish death.
The premise of Bring Her Back revolves around a creepy VHS tape featuring some horrendous Russian cult that teaches a woman that there is a way to resurrect the person she loves most of all, but at a horrible, ungodly price. The movie takes spectacular risks – with its visuals, its pacing, its emotional gravity – and those risks pay off.
Risk, I think, is what a lot of moviegoers are hungry for. Just look at the commercial success of a seemingly niche horror film like Sinners. Originality is in short supply, the studios all want a safe bet, but directors can still get freaky, and say something new, when they court horror fans, when they go for the throat.
Weapons, which my terrific colleague Mark Farnsworth reviewed for this publication this month, is another commercial success running wild with yet more crazy ideas and unforgettable scenes, which include a terrifying witch telling a small boy that she can make his parents eat each other, if she so chooses. There are much more terrifying scenes in Weapons, mind you, but to give them away is to utterly spoil the film.
I’ve read that enjoying horror is a bit like enjoying spicy food. Sure, it can hurt, but it also makes you giddy, feeling more alive
We are living in a fairly unstable time, with online unreality spilling over into our daily lives and our political processes, and horror is both an escape and a visceral commentary on our many current predicaments.
I’ve read that enjoying horror is a bit like enjoying spicy food. Sure, it can hurt, but it also makes you giddy, feeling more alive.
As we retreat further into our digital worlds, it seems that good horror can still draw us out into public, and into movie theaters. Maybe because feeling alive is especially important right now.
But horror is also an artform, and today, it’s one that allows for many exciting, if gruesome, possibilities. More so than highbrow drama, I would argue, even if the Academy Awards routinely disagree (but who cares about them? I’ve honestly stopped).
Anyway, all of this is to say that if you’re a NOT a horror fan, but are tired of superheroes and car chases and so on, you should consider giving a film like Weapons or Bring Her Back a try. The genre is certainly not for everyone – yes, you may have some nightmares, and might want to sleep with the lights on for a few nights – but it’s breaking amazing new ground right now. It’s alive – or aliiiiiive, if you’ll forgive my obligatory dad joke – in a way other genres are not
Sometimes, sleeping with the lights on is worth it.