I realize that in any given gathering of a certain size, it's to be expected that somebody is going to be a jackass. No matter what movie you're seeing, you have to be prepared for the possibility that someone there is going to ruin your good time. I don't want to believe that there are people out there who go to the movies to purposefully destroy everyone's experience, but I know they're out there doing it anyway. So, given my experiences, when it comes to horror, I tend to wait longer for the movies I want to see. The experience of watching them in my dark quiet living room with nigh a teen in sight is well worth the wait.
In any case, that's where horror is thriving: outside of theaters. The best horror released in the last several years has gone straight from the festival circuit to home video and VOD, with a few exceptions making it to wide release. It's encouraging to know that the best content is coming from the more independent market, and even makes us feel proud as fans when a little indie gem becomes a big blockbuster sensation. These days it feels like a new world where horror has become (gasp!) art, untouched by the Hollywood machine. Of course there are still scary movies playing in theaters, for the kids, but the true horrors are lurking in the shadows, waiting on the Blu-Ray release. Maybe it means a bold new direction for scary cinema, a world accepting of all kinds of wacky, terrifying new ideas to pry at our psyches and tease our nightmares. One would hope that as time goes by, the two camps will merge more into one, and the masses can experience what horror can be at its absolute best. Or, they could just make another Insidious.
Maybe I'm just a jaded old crone of a gorewhore, but it is truly baffling to me what "the masses" find scary. There are trends (we seem to be in a g-g-g-GHOST! trend in the last few years), but no matter the monster, it has been a long time since the horror blockbuster struck any new ground compared to what is being done outside of traditional Hollywood. There have been innovations, sure--Paranormal Activity ignited found footage into an industry that just won't quit, and Black Swan was a trippy masterpiece that made it to the Oscars--but as far as content, it's the same shit that's been done to death in a thousand other titles. I'd wager that if The Conjuring didn't have its James Wan pedigree and its passably recognizable cast, it would have been just as easily forgotten as A Haunting in Connecticut.
Speaking of The Conjuring, let's take a second and talk about trailers. Aren't they great? If you just scrolled through any given website, you'd think our entire society hinges on trailer releases. They've become a type of cinema in and of themselves, a hyper-condensed taste of a movie that is engineered to cause spine-tingling or adrenaline-pinching in the viewer. All of that is wonderful, and I don't know what kind of movie fan I would be if it weren't for so many kickass trailers. However, there are drawbacks to promoting your movie, especially when it becomes a surprise success. The Conjuring was huge when it came out, or at least that's what the utter hysteria of its campaign would have you believe. Every YouTube video had an unskippable trailer attached. TV spots popped up every single commercial break, sometimes back to back. Lili Taylor's candlelit terror-face was splattered all over every website homepage. The ads really wanted us to know this was a scary movie, maybe even the scariest ever, and they wanted us to remember it as we marked our calendars for the release date.
So, as is my style, I waited for the Redbox release, nearly a year and hundreds of breathless reviews later. Now, I try my very best not to automatically shit on something just because it's popular (I am hipster scum, but I'm doing my best), but The Conjuring was trying my patience from the beginning. The ads had beat me over the head to such a degree months before that the images were vivid in my mind. In some way I hoped that finally watching the damn thing would make them stop (an exorcism of sorts)... I also can't stand Lili Taylor even at the best of times. But the buzz was inescapable, and my curiosity was piqued, so I broke down and rented it.
It was the most spiteful movie experience I've had alone in my own house since I rented Avatar. I was outraged. If you didn't realize this, I'm here to tell you right now, they showed the whole movie in the trailers. Every jump scare, every creepy visual, every harrowing moment. Watching the actual movie merely served to lend context to everything I had already been watching on loop months ago. And yet this was the film that terrified audiences all over the country.
Insidious was a similar experience, although at least there was some element of surprise there. I will give credit where credit is due: Insidious definitely had me, but only up to a point. What is a pretty tense and engaging setup starts stumbling in its third act...I was teetering on the fence once Patrick Wilson went venturing into the ghost dimension, and fell right off of it once I recognized the dulcet tones of Tiny Tim.
While I could definitely understand certain elements and visuals keeping more than a few folks up at night (that one lovely family is the definition of nightmare fuel), the rest was unremarkable. Hell, I don't even remember enough of Insidious to give a scathing review. (I have forgotten most of The Conjuring as well, aside from those few images burned into my brain from rote memorization.)
Now this isn't me saying I'm a big tough girl who ain't afraid of no ghost. I am not immune to the jump scare, or the creepy visual, or the spooky use of ironic music. (And for the record, I am very much afraid of all the ghosts, in and out of the movies.) I'm just saying I wish "blockbuster" horror wasn't so...basic. It's not that these movies aren't scary, they just aren't terribly creative. Moments shine through, but they are few and far between and you can bet you'll see them in the trailers long before they have the chance to properly scare you.
So what does this mean? Maybe it means those Hollywood bigwigs just don't "get" horror. They've seen the most successful scary movies and they take note of what causes them, or the test audiences, to jump or squirm. They often fail to realize what causes slowly-building tension, or how to portray main character that the audience doesn't want to see die. All they see are dollar signs in the bloody writing on the wall. Or maybe it's the audience's fault. After all, aren't we, the filmgoers, the ones who determine a film's success? Clearly, plenty of people found Insidious scary, enough to give it three sequels, while The Conjuring got a less-successful but still buzzed-about spinoff and an upcoming sequel. Why would the masses make these films wildly successful while I found them trite?
Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe snobs like me should realize that the average joe probably doesn't see many scary movies to begin with. It's an occasional interest, just as fleeting as anything to do on a Friday night. So when Average Joe and Jane take in a scary movie, it's fresh to them. Hell, it's fun, interactive, a whole event. For some people, it's even an aphrodisiac. In a way, it may be the closest those folks will get to a live Rocky Horror show.
So, if a basic haunted house flick gets Joe and Jane's blood pumping for a few moments, even if it's laughing at their friends' terrified screams, maybe that's not such a bad thing. It only demonstrates the flexibility of horror. Horror can be spoon fed, or it can be abstract; it can be exploitative or artistic; familiar images can be ripoffs, or homage. A nightmare, or a laugh riot.
I suppose it all really comes down to your perspective. And maybe I need to change mine, and stop getting so angry about okay movies making big money. Because here's the thing: either way, horror is being enjoyed. It's a golden age right now for horror, in a high state of evolution both on the big screen and streaming platforms. Some of the most popular television shows in the last five years have been centered on horror. Horror isn't dead, or cheap; in fact it's more relevant than it's ever been.
If you are someone who goes to scary movies to test your strength or mock your friends, you're still enjoying horror. You're still funding a production team or director who may go on to make something even better. That shouldn't hamper easily-miffed snobs like me and our good time. Those of us who stalk horror sites and keep a lookout for indie gems just enjoy a more exclusive side of horror that is constantly evolving with fresh, original, bizarre material all the time. We can see the rise of horror in popular culture and appreciate it for what it is, but we know a whole world of nightmares is open to us because we've earned it as fans. Honestly, I feel better knowing that something like Under the Skin didn't reach the masses, because it's all that more precious a treasure, and I know plenty of other fans feel the same about some of their own secret discoveries. It's our reward as fans of one of the most fascinating genres in the medium, and our patience waiting for that VOD release.
Let Joe and Jane have their fun at the movies. We're still in the Horror Club.
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