Sick Minds with Sick Ideas
What is it that drives people to create stories? What is it that draws us to a particular narrative, either as creators or as consumers? In critical circles there is a constructed hierarchy that posits certain artistic forms are of greater cultural significance than others — that art and literature are of superior standing based on their labeling and not their relative merit. Artists who work within ‘lesser’ genres with challenging and controversial material have long been the subject of condemnation which reaches beyond the work itself. It gets personal.
The horror genre in film has experienced frequent attacks from vocal individuals and organizations for decades, and even today filmmakers who work in the genre have their professional and personal integrity questioned and denied. Opponents do not limit their denouncement to horror films — they actively target horror filmmakers as being morally indefensible. Their logic is that horrible films can only be made by horrible people, and that the genre exists to indulge the debase and vulgar tastes of its creators.
In the 1970s and 80s there were moral crusades in the US and the UK that wanted to see horror filmmakers punished for their perverse material. Newspaper columns, TV pundits and protestors branded filmmakers as evil and called for their arrest for crimes against moral decency. The filmmakers of the 1980 horror Cannibal Holocaust were accused of having murdered cast members, and had to provide evidence that nobody had died as a result of their production (scenes of animal cruelty, however, were not simulated — thus making the film controversial to this day). VHS distributors and owners of video rental stores were arrested and offending material was seized in the UK. False statistics and media hyperbole instilled fear in the public about the devastating effects horror movies were having on young viewers. Films were being directly attributed as the cause for real world murders.
Amidst all the past mania and the modern criticism of the horror genre and its contributors the debate has largely been one-sided. Could any case be made that defended the genre and its filmmakers that critics and moral crusaders would be prepared to listen to? Could reason defeat sensationalism and hysteria?
The truth long denied by their detractors is that horror films are made by decent, intellectual filmmakers. They are not violent, degenerate and immoral people who are channeling their dark nature through the lens of cinema. The horror genre is not a twisted ground turning its audience into sociopaths and sadists. To writers and directors horror allows for exploration and reflection about society and humanity, but is unfairly judged by critics based on its superficial surface details.
Anecdotally horror directors are oftentimes described as “the kindest people you will ever meet.” Wes Craven, director of A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Hills Have Eyes, was interviewed and questioned many times about the gruesome and traumatic imagery seen in his films, and his responses were considerate and sound. The villains in his movies were not an extension of himself, but reflections of his own fears and anxieties. Director Sam Raimi made his name with the splatterfest The Evil Dead in 1981 and its quasi-remake in 1987, but later turned his attention to Hollywood with the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man trilogy and Oz the Great and Powerful. In the 21st century Raimi continued to celebrate his bloody beginnings with Drag Me to Hell and the more recent Ash vs. Evil Dead television series. Despite the hatred generated by their work in the horror genre Wes Craven, Sam Raimi and their contemporaries are not the miscreants that detractors would have us believe.
There are regular misconceptions concerning the intention of filmmakers in the horror genre. Opponents fixate upon the most graphic imagery, which is claimed to represent the majority of films available for public consumption. When efforts are made to defend and present horror as a credible means for allegory and social commentary critics are quick to dismiss such analysis as mere excuses for blood lust. The greatest misunderstanding about horror is that grotesque and horrific imagery is depicted in a gleeful or celebratory way — it’s not. The horror genre overwhelmingly presents violence and murder as deplorable, being perpetrated by reprehensible characters. As an audience we’re meant to be disgusted. It’s called horror, not hooray.
The role of the filmmaker in the horror genre is only half of the equation. Horror movies exist because there is an audience wanting to see them — without a consumer there is no market, and no market would mean no more horror films. Why do we want to watch horror films? I think it’s safe to say that the horror audience is not driven by sadistic and untoward motivations — we are not maladjusted, closeted psychopaths. A community exists among horror fans that spans age, gender and background — an emergent culture that values the talented people behind the camera and work they produce. If critics are going to condemn filmmakers for their immorality, they have to condemn the fanbase with them. We’re not the supposedly naive and impressionable minds opponents fear will be corrupted — we are our own people, no better or worse.
Furthermore, horror fans are not without taste. Bad horror movies exist by the truckload, and fans can be divided by which movies they enjoy and those they don’t. We know when a director’s only goal is to be shocking and repulsive, but it’s not enough for a film to be shocking. We need more. We expect better. Tom Six’s Human Centipede series, for example, is built on a disgusting premise but little else, and the response from film critics and audiences reflected the lack of quality and depth present in each of them. The Human Centipede achieved notoriety, not popularity. There is trash filmmaking in the genre, but horror is not alone in this regard. The horror fanbase doesn’t blindly love everything that’s thrown at it — we want good storytelling, we want good filmmaking. We want good.
The question remains, why does anyone watch horror? I don’t believe there is a definitive answer, but I think it’s short-sighted for detractors to disregard the genre based on its worst examples. It devalues the work of some of film’s greatest directors who have produced icons of cinematic horror — names such as Stanley Kubrick, Ridley Scott and William Friedkin. It devalues the directors whose careers have been shaped by the genre — George A. Romero, Wes Craven, James Wan.
As filmmaking continues to evolve, and the democratization of technology has allowed more people than ever before to make their own films, the debate about the horror genre will go on. The boundaries will be pushed and controversy will persist, but having the debate is not what concerns me. I welcome the discourse as long as both sides are listening. When critics express concerns about provocative material the other side should take the time to address those concerns, and in turn the same critics should be willing to listen to what is being said.
Clapping our hands over our ears, refusing to seek an audience and talk with our opponents, is what concerns me. Because as long as each side talks without hearing what the other has to say, what is going to be accomplished? I firmly believe horror can be art and have a purpose. It is not lesser than any other method of storytelling. No worse or no better, but equal. If it’s not your taste, fine, but don’t demean or vilify those of us who shape and absorb horror.
At the least, give it a chance.
Coming soon: Twisted Visions of Love
