Explaihning the Horror Paradox: Theory #4

Explaining the Horror Paradox:  Theory #4

I began my Countdown to Halloween pondering the question of why we love horror movies. I wrote about the "horror paradox", a phenomenon where, although we find the horrific to be repulsive, we pay good money to watch it again and again. This is not a new question; it's as old as Aristotle, who addressed disgust as an emotion. Why do we enjoy ugly things? Why do we enjoy tragedy?

I've explained in previous posts that people watch horror movies as a way of coping with actual fears or violence in the world in which we live. That is a sound theory when you examine various decades in which horror movies were produced. But now I want to take a different approach and attack the question from a more specific psychological angle, independent of time and era.

Sympathizing with the Monster

In the excellent documentary, Nightmares in Red White and Blue, legendary director George A. Romero (Night of the Living Dead) and producer Roger Corman both stated that they sympathized with the monsters in horror films.  I don't believe this means they wanted to be the monsters or actually kill anyone; instead, it means they identified with them because they were characters who were tortured or betrayed.  If you fear that someone would torture or betray you, then you might identify with a monster.

This theory certainly makes sense if you look at creatures like King Kong or Frankenstein's monster.  Kong never asked to be removed from his home and he never went on an intentional killing rampage.  He was alone and scared in a strange place.  Hmmm… has a child ever been alone and scared in a strange place?  Frankenstein's monster never asked to be created.  He woke up suddenly to discover his body was now pieced together with parts of other dead bodies.  Hmmm… as his body changes, has a child ever felt like they don't belong inside it anymore?

 

 

What about creatures like the Mummy or Godzilla?  Do we identify with them?  Not exactly, but we might sympathize with their cause.  Those archeologists were warned not to open the Mummy's tomb, but they did it anyway.  Oh, well, they got what they deserved.  Godzilla doesn't really have a cause, but he's a creation of the atomic bomb.  We opened that door, so we have to live with the consequences, no matter how terrible.  You could say that, in a way, these monsters teach us a life lesson.

 

 

But what about more modern, human monsters like Hannibal Lecter or Jigsaw?  I'd be reluctant to say I identify with either one or have sympathy for them.  But maybe be we admire them because they are so smart.  Although we'd surely channel it in more positive ways, maybe we wish we were as smart as them.  Lecter may be a serial killer, but he's also a brilliant and cultured man.  Jigsaw may design unimaginable devices of torture, but heck, I can't even solve a crossword puzzle.

Vampires are an entirely different story.  Dracula himself is quite suave.  Maybe we wish we had shared the ability he has to control people?  In general, vampires are all about sex.  There's usually something intimate and erotic in the way they attack their victims.  Sometimes there's a centuries-long romance that drives their existence.  It's romantic!  These are definitely themes that have resulted in the success of today's sexy, young and sparkly vampires.

 

I again want to emphasize that experiencing any of these feelings toward monsters does not mean we  want to throw a little girl in the pond, stomp Tokyo into the ground or make a suit out of human skin.  Further, just because we like to watch Leatherface chase a pretty girl with a chainsaw does not necessarily mean we'd get the same pleasure from watching a cow be slaughtered in a meat processing plant.  Horror movies are fantasies.  We watch them so we don't have to watch the real horrors of life.

Or at least that's one theory, anyway.  Please join me during the rest of my Countdown to Halloween to explore a few more…