A subtle noise from off screen. The creaking of a floorboard in an otherwise darkened room. A barely-discernible shadow cast against the wall.
These are all images that one may not initially associate with horror films. It seems as if what passes for horror today consists of shallow and cheap jump scares or gratuitous and pointless violence and gore. To me, this isn't scary. To me, this is playing it safe. It does not take an iota of talent to orchestrate a loud or sudden noise that causes audience members to jump. Several decades ago, films like "Alien," "Psycho," and
"The Exorcist" were so ingenious because they had an intuitive understanding of human psychology. They knew what we were deeply, truly afraid of.
In "The Exorcist," a naive and innocent young girl is possessed and tormented by an ancient demon. Audience members in the 1970's were deeply disturbed by this film. Not because of the gore (although there was violence in the film) but because of the peril that this demon placed the little girl in. Similarly, a film like Alien drew its strength not from what the viewer saw, but from what they did not. The brilliance of Alien was that it deliberately withheld knowledge about the creature from the viewer. In a very real sense, we were just as lost and helpless as Ripley was on the Nostromo. Now, compare that to what passes for a horror film today.
Compare that slow and creeping tension to something like "Anabelle" or the remake of "The Poltergeist." These films are not concerned with scaring the viewer. They are concerned with being entertaining. The primary goal of today's horror market is to make as much money as possible. Furthermore, the definition of what makes a film "controversial" or "disturbing" has changed drastically as well. Violence and gore, in and of itself, does not create an effective horror film. Yes, many excellent horror films contain scenes of disturbing violence ("The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," "The Thing") but the gore in these movies made sense given the context of the setting and characters.
In John Carpenter's "The Thing," for example, the fact that a predatory alien species has invaded a remote arctic outpost induces a feeling of both dread and paranoia in the main characters as well as the viewers Thus, the grotesque violence that occurs within the film primarily serves to reinforce the deeper psychological underpinnings of Carpenter's work. However, violence existing for its own sake is very rarely frightening. In fact, it usually subtracts from the disturbing nature of a horror film.
As someone that considers themselves to be an avid fan of the horror genre, I find it to be immensely frustrating when I consider the direction this genre has moved in. Horror films no longer concern themselves with truly being frightening. They no longer probe the darkest recesses of our collective psyches in search of what terrifies us. Instead, they have transformed into a cliche, something for us to point at and be entertained by.
Merriam-Webster defines horror as "the quality that causes fear, dread, and shock."
Now, ask yourself: how many horror films have you seen recently that do just that?
