On the devaluation of monsters... and movies

Coincidentally, I just now read that Ridley Scott will direct a prequel to his own "Alien," and I'm crossing my fingers that he'll remember the restraint and mystery that made that movie so great in the first place.

I'm trying to think of the last great "monster movie" I saw, and the only thing that even comes close (off the top of my head) is "Signs" -- mostly because it wasn't so much about the monsters, but our own fears of what they could represent, both cosmically and spiritually.

Now that everything can be so pixelated, it's like some moviemakers have forgotten to blur, to make things for the audience to dread or anticipate.

I'm not much for horror films, so I'd like to draw a contrast to Hitchcock, the man who could make Cary and Ingrid descending the stairs at the end of Notorious a pulse-pounding scene.

Which is why i think "The Blair Witch Project" is the most effective horror film of all time, at least on the first viewing. (And "most effective" doesen't equal "best")

It's a tough go because edgy horror films like Alien or Let the Right One in don't come around too often and when they do and are succesful it seems like Hollywood just tries to reduce the process of making those types of films down to a formula. I could be wrong but I don't think it's easy to make an artful horror or monster movie (or any movie of quality for that matter). I've seen Alien again recently and although the story is rather simple there's all kinds of subtlety that makes the film interesting to watch. Why is that alien ship on that planet? Who or what was that thing that looks like a pilot. What are those eggs doing in what seems like a cargo hold? It's what you don't know and don't see that makes you afraid. Plus Ridley Scott actually stages different kinds of camera shots with different kinds of pacing to shake things up. The closeups of the aliens mouth are incredibly effective.

Nonsense. Cloverfield, [rec] (and Quarantine), The Ring, The Host, Drag Me to Hell, and countless J-Horror (including Ringu) have been "monster" driven, all included CGI (except [rec] maybe), and all were pretty great horror movies. At the very least, a creature effect in each made me jump when I saw it.

CGI is a massive problem when more realistic makeup effects would be better (see every recent zombie movie). But a bigger problem than GCI is the increasing PG-13 oriented horror movie.

JE: You're talking about something completely different -- and physical effects are indeed sometimes more convincing than CGI. But neither WW nor I was saying CGI itself made all movies bad (!). Or that there aren't good horror movies with CGI in them ("Zodiac" is a splendid example -- where you don't even know it's there most of the time, and the identity of the "monster" is never fully revealed, since he is seen only in unreliable eyewitness accounts). We are, in part, both addressing Stephen King's "ten-foot bug" phenomenon -- the psychological letdown that comes when the threat is actually revealed. It's human nature to be horrified for a second, and then to automatically think: "Well, it could have been worse!" That's the challenge any work of horror has to deal with, one way or another:

"But I do want to say something about imagination purely as a tool in the art and science of scaring the crap out of people... You approach the door in the old, deserted house, and you hear something scratching at it. The audience holds its breath along with the protagonist as she/he (more often she) approaches that door. The protagonist throws it open, and there is a ten-foot-tall bug. The audience screams, but this particular scream has an oddly relieved sound to it. "A bug ten feet tall is pretty horrible," the audience thinks, "but I can deal with a ten-foot-tall bug. I was afraid it might be a hundred feet tall."

-- Stephen King, Danse Macabre (1987)

My above comment is directed to JE, not any other commenters FYI.

John L. "...a bigger problem than GCI is the increasing PG-13 oriented horror movie."

I don't necessarily think that you're wrong, but I'd love to understand what you mean by this. Why do you suppose it is a bigger problem, if a problem at all?

"I don't necessarily think that you're wrong, but I'd love to understand what you mean by this. Why do you suppose it is a bigger problem, if a problem at all?"

I was mostly writing about the explosion of PG-13 slasher movies. After I wrote the above quote, I realized that almost all of the movies I referenced as good modern monster movies were PG-13. There's probably a correlation there. That CGI is most effective when it isn't replacing gore effects.

*some spoilers below*

It would be pretty difficult to duplicate the Cloverfield monster, for example, in the hand-held camera view of the movie with traditional stop-motion effects. Same with Samara coming out of the TV in The Ring. Or the little boy in the attic in [REC]. Or the final shot of Drag Me To Hell. These scare moments could not exist without CGI.

Now, most horror movies (especially slasher movies) have long been produced for teenagers. But movies like Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street were R-rated. Watching them was intended to be transgressive. Teenage sensibilites were melded with adult content.

In the past four to five years, we've had an explosion of two types of horror movies - the needlessly graphic and the needlessly neutered. The remake of Halloween would be an example of the first. The remake of Prom Night would be an example of the second.

The problem with the first type is that they're too gory for their intended audience (teenagers looking for boobs and blood). The problem with the second type is that they're little more than snuff films, in whcih pretty people are killed without any of the transgressive titillation that appealed to earlier audiences. The second type worry me more. I hate the new trend of labeling everything "---porn," like "torture-porn," but in the case of the PG-13 slasher horror movie, it applies.

The PG-13 slasher movie does not have blood, nudity, scares, or thrills. The only purpose of the movie is to watch pretty people die. The fact that movies are directed to such an audience scares me a whole lot more than the input of CGI in a movie. It also means that people who like horror movies for other reasons will be an increasing minority.

JE: "We are, in part, both addressing Stephen King's "ten-foot bug" phenomenon -- the psychological letdown that comes when the threat is actually revealed."

In your first sentence, you very clearly wrote that you don't think monster movies are scary anymore. The reason, you wrote very clearly in your last sentence, was because of a modern insistence on a "money shot," displaying the entire creature, especially a CGI one.

Again, The Ring, [REC], The Host, Drag Me To Hell, Cloverfield, and countless other horror movies have had a "money shot" (even a CGI one) and have held up extraordinaly well.

You and he are both vastly overgeneralizing the genre.

The reason the Alien movies decreased from movie to movie wasn't because too many Aliens were shown. It's because the scripts were bad, the acting was bad, and because the concept only lent itself to one or two movies. It's hard to be scared by an alien bursting out of someone's chest if you've seen it before.

The Ring 2 wasn't scary. Neither was The Blair Witch 2 (even though they didn't have a money shot in that movie either). Quarantine wasn't scary to those who'd seen [REC]. Cloverfield 3 won't be scary.

Horror movies only work when surprise is an element. Remakes and sequels are very, very seldom scary for that specific reason. That, not effects or creature shots, is the real problem.

JE: Didn't mean that opening generalization ("why monster movies aren't scary anymore:") to be taken absolutely literally, but personally I don't think those movies you mentioned were particularly scary (though "Ringu" had its moments). "Surprises" don't work for me unless they're well set up (the grave in "Carrie," to cite a classic example; or John Carpenter's use of widescreen shadow-space in "Halloweeen"). I prefer suspense, atmosphere -- which is why, I guess, I consider "Don't Look Now" (1974) to be the most terrifying movie I've ever seen because the sense of dread builds (with a few surprises thrown in every once in a while) to the final images... Off the top of my head I'd say "The Descent" is the most intense horror movie of the first decade of the 21st century so far, in part because of the ways the "monsters from the Id" are revealed. It might have been just as scary without showing monsters at all.

Now that was a big problem I had with The Descent, which you loved. The character establishment had been so good. The dilemma of being trapped inside a cave had been so powerful. Everything was going great. Then the monsters appeared, and all our characters turned into monster food. And talk about showing too much of the monsters!

The other big problem with horror movies is that they think startling is scaring. How many times have you seen the same old rhythm? It's quiet, and the victim is alone. Step forward, two, shot of something. Step, two, shot of something else. Step backwards, two, monster and loud noise! Never back up in a horror film! The monster always appears when you walk backwards! In fact, when I see one of these shots coming, I roll my eyes and hold my breath so I can't scream.

Loud noises aren't scary. Ridley Scott's alien is scary. chrome black face with no eyes, sinister lip that curls back, mouth within a mouth, and you see exactly the right amount of the alien in most of the shots. That's something that makes you afraid to walk around alone in the dark!

And who could forget the pagan demon from Disney's Fantasia? Walt Disney's mean-spirited bait-and-switch act has filled many children's hearts with terror and made them unable to sleep at night for weeks. "Night on Bald Mountain" never resorts to the easy trick of startling the audience. Instead it relies on horrific images and music, and it lets the audience have good, long looks. When you can look and look and it's still scary, that's when it's been done right.

"Off the top of my head I'd say "The Descent" is the most intense horror movie of the first decade of the 21st century so far, in part because of the ways the "monsters from the Id" are revealed. It might have been just as scary without showing monsters at all."

I'd agree with that thought, I found the film hard to sit through the one time I've seen it. It has some of the most truly despairing moments I've seen in a horror film, scenes of existential dread permeate throughout it.

I agree with Ryamond about "The Descent." I found the first half of the movie to be grueling and downright terrifying. What could be scarier than being trapped in a cave with a rapidly dwindling light source? Certainly not the monsters that show up out of nowhere and turn the last half of the movie into a real disappointment. God I _loved_ the first half of that movie and I felt like I got a kick in the teeth when it devolved into monster mayhem.

Regarding the original post, I feel that the problem is that there are fewer constraints today. I like to use "Jaws" as a case study. I contend that if "Jaws" was made today it would not be nearly as effective because they would be able to, and therefore would, show the shark in all its articulated glory.

In 1975, the production was constrained by the limitation of the faulty mechanical shark. Necessity forced innovation and thus those barrels skimming across the water with the John Williams musical cue - scarier than anything a CGI shark could possibly produce.

Now don't get me wrong. In the hands of a disciplined and talented artist, such a film could still be made today. I just think it's less likely. The temptation to just "fix it" in post production is pretty substantial.

I can't say any of John L's examples are persuasive either. Of those films, the only one I thought was of any interest was "Drag Me to Hell" but that was primarily a comedy and I liked it more because it used some old-fashioned wire and practical effects instead of going the all-CGI route. And the weakest part was the silly (and decidedly not-scary) final shot.

Is there anywhere to read this article for those of us who aren't on Facebook?

JE: Darn, I guess not. I was hoping the link would be accessible to everybody. It's only two paragraphs, and WW posted them in his notes.

I just feel that current horror movies are more of a workout for the theater's surround sound than the audience's pulse. The big "jumps" don't scare me so much as annoy me and fray my nerves for one second. I prefer something that works my nerves over for two hours...that's what I'm paying for, right?

In a review I wrote for one recent movie (I believe the remake of "The Eye"), I mentioned that horror movies give you scares that are the equivalent of turning the keys in your car ignition only to realize that you had the radio turned up all the way. It's not what I want from a horror film; I want suspense and/or unease.

I do think this has a little bit to do with the PG-13 ratings of these films. You're trying to get teens in the theater, and part of what appeals to teens is the moment where your date grabs your arm really hard.

Sorry, this doesn't have much to do with the original blog entry, so let me add that I know somebody who likes to say, "Nowadays, the shark always works." (in reference, of course, to Jaws)

As Kiyoshi Kurosawa once said, there is only one type of fear: fear of the unknown. The real problem with today's horror movies is not poor characterization or bad CGI -- although those things don't help. The real problem is that contemporary horror films are rehashes of style, substance, and content: They never place the viewer in a space where he can be unsure of what will happen next. The next time I see a suspenseful sequence in a film cued by "spooky music" (which -tells- me a scene is supposed to be scary, eliminating the genuine suspense ambiguity would invoke) or one diffused by a cliche (the main character being startled by the sudden leap of a housecat, say), I'm going to throw my popcorn at the screen. Today's horror filmmakers are incapable of innovative approaches to their stories, or innovative story subjects, or innovative filming techniques. They only want to show me what I've already seen before -- and, believe me, that's not scary.

This discussion reminds me of the scene in The Bad and the Beautiful where Kirk Douglas and Barry Sullivan have to figure out how to make a movie about guys in cat costumes scary.

I put it on youtube if you haven't seen it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46_DG1A0gKY

John L. 'the needlessly graphic and the needlessly neutered.' You group 'torture-porn' films in the second group, however why do you consider (if you do) films like Hostel and Saw neutered? I'm Australian, and here the films are only available to audiences over the age of 15.

Spoilers follow:

I love horror films; films like Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween were IMO among the greatest films of all time. BUT it has been quite a while since I have seen a truly great horror film, and for that I lay the blame firmly on the 'torture-porn' films. After being forced to see three Saw films, both Hostel films and the Halloween remake by my GF, I've decided that no relationship is worth having to endure these films.

There is no point to these films, other than to see people get killed in brutal, graphic and unusual ways. Although the first Hostel film had an interesting pretext concerning Americans trapped in an unfriendly Eastern Europe, the sequel was misandrist, horrifyingly vicious and arguably of no artistic merit.

The Saw films are worst; not only do they delight in torture and repulsive murders, but they are self-rightous. It seems that the killer doesn't directly kill his victims, he gives them a chance to save themselves, and does so as to teach them about life and its value. The audience is therefore able to comfort itself by looking at these, often unpleasant, people by saying, 's/he had a chance to free him/herself' etc.. For example, in one film, a group of characters learned that they could all have lived if they had not tried to save their individual skins and had instead thought about the collective.

In truth, it's garbage. These people WERE murdered by this guy, and nothing they did justified it. Although in previous horror films, people were killed for having sex and committing sin, the killers never pretended that that they were committing the murders for altruistic purposes. One doesn't have to potray the killer as a monster and can even be sympathetic to him, but to argue that the killer was somehow morally above those that he killed is, well, something that Hitchcock, Hooper, Carpenter and Craven wouldn't have approved of.

The remake of the masterful Halloween was worst. It was a film which must surely rank among the worst films ever made. For not only was it merely a pretext to watch people get killed in unpleasant ways, but it do so in the guise of a family drama; boy gets bullied, mother cries whilst watching video of her son and kills herself. The film tries to create sympathy for Michael (itself a questionable move), but deliberately trashes it, especially by having him kill the one character who was decent to him.

Horror films are important, but after seeing some of these recent horror films, I wonder whether or not it can reclaim its former glory.

Our current culture has become inured to shock and terror because it has become mind-numbingly ubiquitous and de-personalized. Seldom does a news day pass by without mention of some sensational, gruesome, or grotesque murder or other atrocity by some otherwise unnoticed person. For example, I finally worked up the nerve to watch "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" on FearNet. To my partial shame, I actually ended up laughing a good part of the time! I suppose that occurred because of that de-sensalization, and because my cheerfully morbid friend has fed me an unrelenting diet of schlocky horror movies. IMHO, horror movies are scariest most successful when bad things happen to essentially decent, good people who struggle against the evil AND HAVE A CHANCE TO BEAT THE EVIL. Nihilistic horror movies are boringly ineffective. The scariest horror movie I have ever seen was an intense little film called "Catacombs". "Catacombs" tells the tale of a young woman who travels to Paris, meets a female stranger who takes her to a rave party in the winding labyrinth of sewers, and proceeds to get utterly alone and lost in the dark mazes. The film consists of her trying to find her way back to the surface. Although a few disgusting images appear, the film deals with the most fundmental human fears: darkness, loneliness, claustrophobia, and most importantly, uncertainty. I won't spoil the ending, but I will tell you that you will empathize with her all along the way. In short, the best horror movies usually have compassion and pathos.

JE: Thanks for that recommendation! I just added "Catacombs" to my Netflix queue. I hope you're talking about the original 1974 Tobe Hooper "Texas Chainsaw Massacre," which is a damn good movie. And the humor (like the crazy stuff with finger-sucking grandpa and the family) makes the horror all the more horrific.

I think one of my favorite horror movies (a category without much competition, admittedly) is "Session 9," a rather unknown film from Brad Anderson ("Transsiberian," "Happy Accidents"). It's about asbestos-removers in an abandoned insane asylum, and the strange things that start happening there. And what makes it work is that until the final scene, you have no idea why all these things are happening. Although it was less effective in my opinion, "The Machinist" (also by Brad Anderson) worked for similar reasons: Strange things start happening, but the reason why is kept secret.

To interpret the idea another way, I loved "May." I think what part of what made it work was that it didn't start the horror up at the beginning and keep it revving like a chainsaw. Aside from a brief "shock" that opens the movie, it's about 80% buildup. That buildup, along with the character's situation being a rather universal theme (loneliness), makes the ending that much more horrifying. It's in part that we've gotten to know the victims, but also that we've gotten to know the attacker, and they're all human.

My least favorite horror movie, "The Mist," partly may not have worked because it showed its hand too often. We see the monsters every time they attack, and they lose their mystery. There's other problems with it, but that's a whole other blog post.

I too will add Catacombs (if its avail on blockbuster).

Great reading by Lovecraft on horror in literature (if you've seen enough movies, you could apply some of it to them as well) - http://gaslight.mtroyal.ca/superhor.htm

I think the greatest revelation is that when we see the object of fear, we suddenly can say 'ohh, I could defeat that.' We can question how everybody reacts to the situation and comment to ourselves (hopefully not to everybody else [as a nod to the previous entry]) about how we would survive this.'

That ruins it. There's nothing to fear. I'm very interested in quality horror, and honestly, I haven't seen it in movies. Its a huge disappointment for me. I've seen good supernatural thrillers, and I've seen good shockfests. But not true horror.

In response to John Panagopoulos's statement, "IMHO, horror movies are scariest most successful when bad things happen to essentially decent, good people who struggle against the evil AND HAVE A CHANCE TO BEAT THE EVIL. Nihilistic horror movies are boringly ineffective."

Well said! This statement comes very close to the theories of the Renaissance tragedians. The Christian Tragedy developed out of a sense of lost hope. The most tragic and effective stories had a pervasive sense of loss, concerning good people who fell by the wayside. Their story did not have to turn out the way it did. And what a shame it had to be like that.

Consider Doctor Faustus, who sells his soul to the Devil in exchange for grand knowledge. A good man, with fairly good intentions, is painfully dragged to hell. It's a scene that really blows Sam Raimi's own "Drag Me To Hell" away because Faustus is not surprised by it. He is condemned to hell because of his own pride, not because he thought he could get away with it. He had a chance to escape evil (by repenting), but he could not muster the strength. What a shame.

How about our good friend Hamlet? His story also has echoes of fear and horror. A ghost plagues his thoughts, and threatens his sanity. No "money shots" of the ghost, either; he makes an appearance early on in the play, and haunts Hamlet (and the audience) for its remainder. Once again, Hamlet has a chance to escape the spiralling blood tragedy. Because he cannot escape from it, we witness the horrible climax where everyone lays dying on the floor. What a shame.

Let's look at Jack Torrance from "The Shining" now. Another flawed man, driven to insanity by forces beyond his own resolve. Why is it so scary when we watch Torrance plod like a maniacal caveman through the halls of the Overlook? I think it may be because we have seen his degeneration, because we understand how easy it takes a husband and a father to unravel into a bonafied monster.

But "The Descent" is a tricky beast; I can still remember the terrible feelings of isolation and despair that I had while watching that movie. I definitely agree that is by far one of the best horror movies of the last ten years, completely blowing away all the operatic blood spurters. While extremely violent and gratuitous (we do see these monsters up close and personal), Neil Marshall lets these creatures stomp all over our consciences. Creatures of the id, they may very well be, because they seem so terribly inhuman despite their human stature. Where do they come from? What is their origin? Something about them seems so viciously primal. The image that haunts me still is when the creature palms Sarah's head and looks around his domain, as if reaching into her worst thoughts and fears and establishing her subconscious dominance.

THe question is, is there any hope within their descent into hell? I don't really know, except to say that the very nature of their plight encourages the possibility of hope. They firmly believe there is a way out, but do we as an audience think they can make it out alive?

"As Kiyoshi Kurosawa once said, there is only one type of fear: fear of the unknown."

This is probably why David Lynch is the only one to consistently scare me nowadays. He takes me places and shows me things I've either never experienced or do not recognize. I know most don't consider his films standard horror, but, for me, there's nothing like firing up Inland Empire or Eraserhead and creeping myself out.

While I agree with and respect Wiley's position, the argument itself is woefully dated. In the mid-1960s, Forrest J Ackerman (and, if I'm not mistaken, Joe Dante) were equally appalled by the new vanguard of cheap shock flicks helmed by Herschell Gordon Lewis (1963's Blood Feast in particular), and made a concentrated effort to steer the young, impressionable readers of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine back to Karloff, Lugosi and the Chaneys.

(Weren't Val Lewton's horror films partly an intellectual reaction to the blundering antics of Universal's monsters during the 1940s?)

The argument came into play again in the early 1980s amid the escalating popularity of slasher movies, when physical pain permeated everything.

(Which brings to mind this quote from Fritz Lang in an interview conducted by the BBC in 1967: "When you talk about violence, this has become in my opinion a definite point in the script, it has a dramatogical reason to be there. After the Second World War, the close structure of family started to crumble. It started naturally already with the first one. There is really very, very little in family life today. I don't think people believe anymore in symbols of their country- for example, I remember the flag burning in the States. I definitely don't think they believe in the devil with the horns and the forked tail and therefore they do not believe in punishment after they are dead. So, my question was: what are people feeling? And the answer is physical pain. Physical pain comes from violence and I think today that is the only fact that people really fear and it has become a definite part of life and naturally also of scripts.")

The fact is, horror is a dicey genre which offers us classics or masterpieces sparingly. Recent pictures like Ju-On and Let the Right One In remind us that good scares are rare and precious.

Firstly, I really must take exception to the idea that there is only fear of the unknown. This sounds good, enlightened even. Fact is there are many things to be afraid of that are not only known but are startling mundane. Getting hit crossing the street by a driver too busy on their cell phone to pay attention. Pricking yourself on a splinter and contracting tetanus. Eating a piece of cross-contaminated cheese. Being the victim of random violence. None of these are unknown quantities and are all pretty reasonable to be "affraid" of (note, I don't say phobic).

None of these sorts of fears make great cinema, however. "Horror" as a genre descriptor is a bit of a wide tent for such a niche. What I suspect that many of us are looking for by way of fear in movies is a more abstract feeling of terror, existential, something that you need to analysis and digest after the fact. Large man with mask and machete trying to turn you into kibble is indeed fearsome but so on the nose that it does little to inform on the subject of fear itself (or, more importantly, our reaction to it).

Part of the problem of modern monsters in cinema is they seem to be over thought. Design, backstory, are so complete that in many respects they become the most interesting aspect of the film. That eventually makes them the most "likeable." You can tell that many times months have been spent on creature design and logistics and maybe an afternoon on 'ok, who are they going to kill?"

Its been ages since I've seen a good monster movie. rec, is up there as is The Descent (even if I fundamentally disagree with your interpretation of the crawlers, Jim). Pontypool many apply. The Signal was another winner but monster free.

--Al

JE: I liked both "Pontypool" and "The Signal," too, for that feeling of dread (mixed with humor) they were able to create. I've been pondering the comment about "fear of the unknown" and have chosen to interpret it like this: For "unknown" think "what will happen." The fear is always about what will happen: Will I get caught? Will I get hurt? Will I die? Will any of those things happen to someone I care about? (Interesting, I think, that three of the best horror/suspense movies all begin with the deaths of children, and what happens to the parents afterwards: "Don't Look Now," "Dead Calm," "The Descent." "The Orphanage" is about what happens when the child disappears...) So, there's the horror of the known (a ten-foot bug has just chomped on my leg), but that's immediately followed by the fear of what will happen after it seems that one's worst nightmare has come true. BTW, if you didn't already leave it in a previous comment, I'd like to hear your interpretation of the monsters in "The Descent."

@Allan McPherson

Getting hit by a car or contracting tetanus might be horrible or painful, or both; it might cause your adrenaline to surge; it might cause you to think about your mortality; it might even change your religion -- but it wouldn't invoke fear. Fear comes only when you're uncertain of an outcome. If you know -exactly- what's going to happen, there's nothing to fear. Along those lines, then, contracting tetanus might be scary because you're not sure what the symptoms are, what it will do to you, what sorts of horrible medical processes you'll have to endure to cure yourself, or whether the disease will kill you. These are all unknowns, and are therefore things to fear. You can imagine the worst, of course, and will often do so if you're placed in a position to think the worst might happen. However, if a bad thing has -already- happened, well, that's not scary -- it's just awful.

"I love horror films; films like Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween were IMO among the greatest films of all time. BUT it has been quite a while since I have seen a truly great horror film, and for that I lay the blame firmly on the 'torture-porn' films. After being forced to see three Saw films, both Hostel films and the Halloween remake by my GF, I've decided that no relationship is worth having to endure these films. "

Wile I agree with you about four of those five movies, the theatrical version if first Hostel is unfairly maligned as torture porn. The unrated DVD throws in a lot of needless gore, but the original was great. It was a tight horror movie that implied a whole lot more than it showed. If I could convince you to watch it again, I would.

To me, the big difference between a "moral" horror movie and an "immoral" one is: (1) in a moral horror movie the protagonists have a chance to win; and (2) in a moral horror movie you want the protagonists to win. A horror movie shouldn't be a geek show to see who can be killed coolest.

My problem with neutered horror movies like Prom Night and Urban Legend is that they doon't even reach the level of the geek show. People watch them not even to be disgusted or titillated. They just wacth them to see people die.

"The Decent" is one of the scariest horror movies of the new century, but not because of the creatures at all. What scared me about that movie was the prospect of being underground with no idea of where you are, or any concept of where you might go in order to get out. You'd be aware that your lights only last so long, and that there is only so much food. Once you are in the dark, you won't even be able to tell if there is a great ledge one foot away from you. Sooner or later you'll have to face the prospect of dying in complete darkness of starvation. That, my friends, is scary. The creatures, if anything, were a serious letdown. Imagine, you've just been saved from having to starve to death - now you'll go pretty quickly, with less overall pain. And, you don't have to worry anymore about possibly getting out, because you won't.

"Touching the Void" impressed me in a similar way. Even though I knew that both men survived their mountain climbing expedition, I couldn't get over the thought of being trapped on a snow covered mountain with a broken leg. Instead of fearing starvation, I'd be freezing to death.

But the last time that I remember being scared by a CGI animal/monster is at "Jurassic Park". Spielberg put you in total awe of a Brontosaurus, and then made you just about pee your pants at the sight of a T-Rex. He made Raptors so scary that a professional basketball team has been named after them. But the T-Rex and Raptor weren't scary because of what they looked like, but because we knew that they could maul us to death, and we knew that they are carnivores. I think the type of fear being discussed here has to work on a human level. We have to be genuinely afraid of what the monster could do to us. That is why "Jurassic Park" scared me and why "Zodiac" sends a chill down my spine.

Re: the unknown. I actually agree, to an extent. The really meaty fears are of the "cosmic horror" nature. The relationship may actually be more fear is unknown rather than we fear what is unknown. Still certainty carries its own set of terrors, as Jim mentioned above, the prospect of the death of a child. While it is not the "norm" for a parent to outlive their child it is far from uncommon. I am reasonably certain that most loving parents consider the prospect of their child's passing and become fearful of it. I agree with Johnny Shiv that once a fearful prospect has come to pass it transforms, into tragedy, struggle, depression, or even death. But that's not the point. Fear is all about the prospect of an occurrence, not its aftermath. Again, this all excludes phobias, which preclude any sort of end to the experience, only a respite.

With regards to the creatures in The Descent. While I see them as "creatures from the ID" (I mean, they're in a dank, endless cave system, how could I not?) I do take them as literal monsters for the purpose of the narrative. I do not see them as a psychological construct of the lead character's insanity / breakdown. For the purpose of the movie (which itself is symbolist of that breakdown) there is no need for that fantasy within a fantasy in order to explore that theme. I also feel the narrative of the film precludes this interpretation (simultaneous attacks in different locales and the like). I guess the question is, is it Freud's cave or Aristotle's? A duplex maybe?

Its interesting that this discussion has moved more to general horror rather than monsters in and of themselves. The whole concept of the Monster itself seems to have become so neutered that they are a hard pill to swallow these days. On one hand classic monsters (of literature and folklore) have become tired and overworn. Or worse, glamorized into base wish-fulfillment power fantasies. And I'm not just talking about sparkly vampires in Twilight. I was around for Anne Rice, thank you very much. And, in-spite of all that, Let the Right One In comes along with a very traditional vampire story and blows me away.

Anyway, I've babbled too long as it is. If interest keeps up I may pop back with some thoughts on "new" monsters .

--Al

"Everything has its depth stripped away, nothing means anything, and we've diffused or at least ignored our fears by shining a flashlight on every menacing shadow in the room."

And what did "Alien" do so perfect? Hide the monster. To see it is scary. To not know where the scary monster is, that's disturbing.

But is it what we don't see that drives us crazy? Or is it... nothingness?

"Inland Empire" is a horrifying movie made from scratch. Nothing but shadows and rooms. The desert scenes in "The Passenger" are eerie... because there's so much open space. And then there's "The Shining" and those creepy, empty hallways... What's more frightening? What might be around the corner? Or being stuck in all that emptiness?

For whatever reason, The Orphanage (El Orfanato) scared me more than any movie ever hoped. I can't quite place my finger on why...

The original Silent Hill video game for PS1 (yes, I'm a bit of a youngster) was still the scariest thing ever in my life. The movie didn't rely on gore. I actually found myself caring about the people being tormented (keyword, tormented, not tortured).

I've found in better scary movies like The Orphanage, Silence of the Lambs, The Descent, The Ring (I think I'll get some arguments on this one) the camera itself is afraid to look or even dare to ponder what's going on. The screenplay is a curse. The newer movies on the other hand, would like a front row seat to as much depravity as possible. Here, there is no such thing as too much.

But, I want to bring up "Scream." Was anybody else scared by this? I saw this on a TV, and perhaps not scared, I was certainly at its surrender quite a few times. I think Scream was the perfect movie for old school meets new school. It saw the cliches of the old, the idiocy of the new, and decided....to make its self-awareness known to the audience. Seeing this, I became scared again. This movie could basically either follow "the rules" or break them as it saw fit. It was unpredictable in a sense.

Of course, one more mention: Did anybody else think The Dark Knight was a lot creepier, and even scarier, than most of the crud Hollywood pushes out as a horror film these days?