What Makes Small Town Settings So Scary?
I may be a bit biased being that I grew up in a small town but it’s undoubtedly my favorite setting for horror. It works on so many different levels and from a situational storytelling standpoint it’s the easiest way to isolate a group of characters; in the vein of Alien’s tagline “In Space No One Can Hear You Scream” when characters find themselves at abandoned farmhouses, rusty railroad tracks, in dense wooded areas or on quiet country roads, they’re isolated from civilization, their cries can go unheard. A small town can be a scary place.
Most small towns are painted as picturesque places to live with trails, wide open parks, welcoming store fronts, friendly faces and homes that haven’t changed in thirty years. It all sounds very quaint but like anything with a pretty presentation small towns have that something lurks beneath the surface factor; a dark parallel to the seeming peacefulness that surrounds it. It seems like every small town has its haunted histories, dark secrets, myths and urban legends. For example, my home town is the sight of a statue and grave of a Civil War Colonel that sits atop a hill overlooking a cemetery and happens to be situated directly across from the high school. Natural, ghost stories circulated among teens; rumors of the Colonel’s ghost haunting the graveyard and many dared each other to walk through it at night and, if they were brave enough, to touch the Colonel’s statute in the hopes that his ghost would appear — our town’s version of “Bloody Mary.” But this post isn’t about local urban legends (though covering movies based on such subjects would make for an interesting entry) but more-so about the town and people that exist around such stories.
When small town horror stories are brought up the two big ones that come to mind are likely IT and Halloween — each giants within the genre. But while Stephen King is known to use small town’s in many of his stories (and another one of his will be discussed in just a moment) and IT truly captures the fears of growing up and Carpenter puts you in a specific time and place with Halloween, I want to bring attention to horror movies that small town setting play an integral part and perfectly encapsulate the true horrors that can appear in these kinds of places. The first being Salem’s Lot.
Despite being one of King’s more well known stories and directed by genre legend Tobe Hooper, the two-part miniseries adaptation doesn’t seem to have much discussion outside of the fan base of the genre; while respected within the horror community it nonetheless it still seems to fall under the radar.
It tells the story of writer David Mears (David Soul) who returns to his hometown of Salem’s Lot to write a book about the Marsten House — reputedly haunted with a morbid history, something of a folklore for townsfolk, and to Mears a place of inherent evil. With the arrival of a strange new wealthy businessman, Richard Straker (James Mason), and his reclusive partner, Kurt Barlow (Reggie Nalder), Mears suspects something sinister taking over the once warm and welcoming community. Reuniting with his former high school teacher, Jason Burke (Lew Ayers), befriending an eccentric horror and theater loving student, Mark Petrie (Lance Kerwin) and romantically involving himself with recent graduate student, Susan Norton (Bonnie Bedelia), Meers plans to uncover the evil enveloping the town.
Although the story isn’t entirely told from Mear’s perspective. Both King and Hooper takes us on a tour of the town; the typical hum drum of small town life is showcased through different locations and side characters as we’re allowed inside the school, homes, places of business; their occupants as realistic as your neighbors, but each covering up their secret affairs, personal worries, fears and nightmares that slowly reveal themselves to be the truth and loom over their seemingly quiet existence. Their way of life begins to change (and sometimes there’s nothing more terrifying to small town residents than change) with the addition of this new resident and the safety of their small town brought into question after several of the townsfolk disappear under mysterious circumstances.
Because this strange new presence coincides with Mears’ return it feels as if Mears interest in the Marsten house, and his attempt to capture the subject in his new novel, has conjured up an unavoidable evil. As a consequence both Mears and the townsfolk must deal with the repercussions of the town’s past and present. To add this sense of dread there’s the horrifying realization for Mears that the town he grew up in has collapsed under the weight of a darkness, and there’s nothing he can do but leave it all behind as there’s nothing left for him here. Yet, no matter how much he wants to forget the past of his hometown and the horrors he survived in it will always haunt him.
There’s two other movies that delves deeper into a town’s dark past revolving around a legend — the perfect setup to any slasher story. The first was inspired by real murders that shook up a small Texas community and has been referred to as a metafictional sequel to the original 1976 film of the same name.
THE TOWN THAT DREADED SUNDOWN (2014)
While the original film has some meta aspects to it the sequel doubles down and brings a fresh (albeit historically inaccurate) look at the gruesome serial murders dubbed The “Texarkana Moonlight Murders” committed by a still unidentified assailant known as the Phantom Killer. With a distinctive title for the events and villainous name to match it’s no wonder it inspired a long lasting legend in a small town as well as two separate movies.
As sensationalized as it is, the original film (like in real life) plays as a sort of badge of honor and tradition for the town of Texarkana. A screening of the movie is held every year around Halloween and serves as a cold opening for the 2014 film as well as inspiration for a series of copycat killings. The meta angle may become muddled at times and echoes the elements of Scream but the accuracy (at least accuracy within the universe of the film) of ’76 film is the main focus. A (fictional) victim of the real life murders was forgotten by the town and upon learning this two inquisitive teens, Jami Lerner (Addison Timlin) and Nick Strain (Travis Tope), (the former of which a near victim of the new killer) unravel a conspiracy that could lead to both a motive and thus suspect of the recent murders.
After a while, small towns become boring, especially for teens; they feel stuck, lonely, misunderstood and frustrated and fearful that their benign existence will be forgotten, their story never told. So as strange as it sounds, there’s something exciting about stumbling across a conspiracy right in your backyard, being a part of something bigger than yourself. It’s easy to take your dull town at face value; never looking past run down roads and similar looking storefronts, never bothering to question the adults and their way of life, but every place has a history, and small towns are generally better at hiding it than others, but as you become old enough, aware enough, the horrors of history wither away and become an open secret.
TTTDSD offers all of these elements and more. It’s nothing groundbreaking for the genre, follows the beats of a typical slasher but delivers stylish cinematography, slick style giallo-like color palette and presentation of its kills in addition to an investigative and mystery angle with a central theme that highlights the identity crisis a teen and their town go through as they age — but eventually a place finds a purpose and role for a person and that person, whether they like it or not, has no choice but to settle in to take over and carry out some sort of legacy and in turn that fear of being forgotten can usher in terrifying traditions waiting to become discovered by the next generation.
As I said there’s two movies that take on this small town secret, dark past with a legend almost boogey man character at its center — and that is My Bloody Valentine (1981).
The remake from 2009 certainly expands upon the story and setting a little more but the original has more memorable characters, moments, is better made from a technical standpoint and does a better job at capturing the cold and creepy setting of the quiet Canadian town.
Instead of teens the story follows a group of young men who spend their days hard at work in coal mines and their nights at the one bar in town with their arms around significant others and love interests. Despite each one having a fairly unique personality and look their names could easily be forgotten, but there’s something honest and heartfelt about the characters and their story; they’re young and full of energy, the type of people that were our classmates and saw in the hallways with their high school sweetheart they planned to marry. They don’t plan be stuck in this place forever but they’re going to enjoy it while they are.
With its geographical and seasonal setting there’s no better example of a cozy quiet than that of the fictitious Valentine Bluffs, Canada. Yet, as noted, it’s not without its trauma — a dark past that’s been quite literally buried underground.
20 years prior, two supervisors of the left their posts to attend a Valentine’s Day dance, forgetting to check methane levels resulting in an explosion and cave in for five miners. Harry Warden, the only survivor, spiraled into insanity only to return a year later to exact his revenge on the supervisors, displaying their hearts inside of Valentine candy boxes and leaving a note warning the town to never hold a Valentine’s Day dance again.
The legend of Harry Warden hangs over the town every February like gray winter skies but 20 years has passed and everyone would like to forget all the trouble Warden caused and Warden himself, who’s said to have been locked away in an insane asylum. Feeling the threat is out of the way and pressure from the youngsters, the authorities of town decide to approve of the dance.
As preparations are made, characters and their personal troubles unfold, a believable love triangle becomes the center of the drama while the mad killer with pick ax and gas mask stalks local business, junkyards, dark labyrinth mines, foggy nights and dreary overcast days of the town and Valentine Bluffs legend of Harry Warren may once again become its reality.
While similar themes can be seen other horror movies — one generations mistake are the consequences of new generation — and the style and its (unfortunately heavily censored) kills are standard slasher genre spectacles, the central story and its ending emphasize that some people never escape their small hometown, never move on with their lives, the town’s and their legacy become one, forever haunted to create a vicious cycle of horror for the rest of the community.
Perhaps just as scary as knowing you’ll never leave your hometown is knowing you’re hometown will never be destroyed and ultimately forgotten (similar to story of Salem’s Lot), but this time there’s no legend or folklore, no secrets shrouded in the town’s history, but a cover up, one not orchestrated by the citizens. The Crazies (2010) is one example of such a story.
The remake of the 74 classic improves upon the original in both technical and story aspects, one of those being the use of its setting. Ogden Marsh, Iowa is an idyllic middle American town where everyone knows everyone, where high school baseball games and hunting are a way of life, where friends and family are all one really has. This is communicated to use during simple scenes of character interactions. Both the setting and story are established simultaneously because, in a way, the setting is the story. Characters’ lives, daily routines intertwine as we become familiar with the layout of the town.
The film follows the formula of other zombie stories — a genre that was in. resurgence at the time (The Walking Dead premiered the same year, Zombieland was released the year prior); a group of character’s story of survival led by town’s sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant who gives a stellar performance), with his wife, Judy (Rahda Mitchell) and Deputy and best friend Russell (Joe Anderson), primarily by his side.
It wasn’t anything an audience hadn’t seen before, but they do something slightly different with the characters goals. Sure they’re end goal is to stay alive and find somewhere safe, but as oppose to the storyline in The Walking Dead where they hop from safe space to safe space until its ultimately infiltrated by zombies or other groups survivalists or similarly Zombieland in which the characters have heard rumors of zombie free areas, they’re ultimate end goal is to escape the city but after that, there isn’t much of a plan. Which is where the real horror lies; everything they’ve ever known is being destroyed before their eyes and there’s no time to say they’re goodbyes, only to seek just enough opportunities to survive.
After a tragic inciting incident an illness takes over the town and a government agency arrives to both get everything under control as well as cover everything up. A conspiracy is of course uncovered but that’s really the least of the characters problems. As they find themselves in chaos and confusion, lost and desperate for answers all while stumbling into situations that force them fight off and kill the infected, many of whom they’ve known their whole lives (and because of the slow and deliberate set up we feel we know at least a little); their faces still familiar but no expression, nothing behind the dark eyes of their veiny zombified faces yet the death sequences are all more stomach churning not really knowing what they’ve become, if there was a cure, if they were still human, but not wanting to take the chance — fear thy neighbor indeed. They continue their journey, carefully and quietly through different locations the small town has to offer — each with a new problem that arises. From the marshes (where the town likely gets its name from and the sight of ground zero) to dimly lit morgues with flicker lights, the shelter provided by shadows of a barn, rustic farmhouses, gas station dinners one would stop in when passing through on a road trip, hospitals and schools taken over by the military — there’s no escape from both the government and strange disease that’s turned everyone into flesh eating monsters. Even open fields and endless county highways offer little reprieve but rather remind us of the vast openness and isolation of the setting, fitting well with the tone and theme of what (in my opinion) should have been the final shot showing the fate of the town; leaving David and Judy to continue on foot with no real hope or destination in mind.
I feel like I only scratched the surface when it comes to horror set in a small town. Perhaps because I love the setting so much, but I could discuss it forever and want others to recognize the infinite ways in which such a setting can be utilized and certain themes explored and communicated, but I could see myself revisiting this subject for a part two posts or approaching it from a different angle using more (or different) examples. Until then I hope you seek out a small town horror movie to watch some time soon, perhaps one from above which I tried my best to intrigue yet not spoil for those who haven’t seen it. Any of which I would recommend.
