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This week's Answer: Those
Good Ol' Horror Days
I know exactly what you mean,
Jenz. Horrors have really gotten so... so...
horrific. They are very hard on the senses now, all
those heart-pounding (and head pounding and other parts of
the body being pounded or pulled apart or entered with
sharp objects without permission) moments that have become
many moments that add up to many extended periods of time
when you, as the audience member, finds yourself with a
death grip on your popcorn or the person-next-to-you's
popcorn or anything else you might grab (and, if that
person-next-to-you happens to not be the person you came
in with, then you could be looking at further more real
heart-pounding, with-the-police moments).
It's the name of the game now,
Jenz. Horror isn't like it used to be, the good ol'
days when all you had to do in your imagination, as you
watch, was to avoid or run away from or overcome one or
two obviously-zippered- or heavily made-up monsters from
the deep or deep space or deep forest or deep haunted
house or deep
wherever-else-monsters-and-fiends-congregate.
Monsters and fiends back in the days when you could even
bring a child to a horror picture (although running the
risk of many wet sheets or a high psychiatrist's bill)
were really not such a bad lot. Frankenstein was
misunderstood (and, to his detriment, he never understood
fire). Dracula didn't want to hurt all of you; he was just
interested in your basic fluid that kept you going (sort
of a like a good mechanic, really). The Mummy
wouldn't have acted out if he could have just gotten a hot
shower. The Werewolf only needed a shave and to
change his calendar during full moons. But, then,
Mister Hitchcock changed everything and we couldn't take
showers without lifeguards. After that,
"chainsaw," "get out!", "They're
here...", "Freddy," "Jason," (all
those poor Jason's and Freddy's...), "hurry!"
(try counting those in a
let's-all-run-away-from-whatever-is-after-us movie), none
of them would ever again embody their former sweet,
innocent meanings. And let's not forget the
inimitable, "I see dead people." How are
we ever again to attend a funeral (or a bridge game of
depressed environmentalists on Valium) and not think about
that?
What I'm trying to point out is that
we are in a new era of the horror movie. Producers
of such fair are out to scare the stuffing out of you
(which the clean up crew at theatres are complaining
about). They, the producers (not the clean up crews)
are not content to just make you jump out of your seats,
but they want you shaking and quaking and reelin' and
rockin' and rollin', baby! And if there's some
tossin' (up your recently ingested popcorn and soda), so
much the better. They, the producers, don't
have to do the cleaning up. Maybe they're already
doing audience preview research, discovering what truly
shakes the viewer, how much she perspires, how fast his
blood pressure rises.
Coming to a theatre near you...
Heart
Attack!
You
won't leave the theatre without a paramedic...
DcH
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