The Circular Reality of Horror Fiction

"Horror is an unknown actress, perhaps the girl next door, cowering in a cabin with a knife in her hands we know she'll never be able to use." -Stephen King


How many times have you gone to see a horror film and the film becomes so predictable that you can almost recite the last fifteen minutes of the film by heart? As you watch the film, you know that the “final woman” gruesomely dispatches the villain. Bleeding and crying, she walks away from the horrific scene. In the last few frames, the camera pans back to the face (or mask) of the villain and just before the credits roll, his eyes snap open. Creepy (or speed metal) music plays and the credits roll. Immediately, upon leaving the movie theater, you (and/or your companions) mention that you “saw that coming.” As you’re looking at the others leaving the theater, you see their eyes roll around in their sockets as they speak about how predictable it was and/or how the sequel is inevitably on the way. If moviegoers are in on the joke, then why do filmmakers (and even horror writers) continue to make films with ambiguous endings like this? Heretofore, I will refer to this phenomenon as The Circular Reality of Horror.

What makes something horrific?

Horror is the survival mechanism at work and the futility of it. We are aware of the fight or flight mechanism. We are also aware of the natural instinct of it. What if no matter what we do, it isn’t good enough? What if, no matter how fast we run, or where we hide, the killer will always be behind us? How would you feel if you knew that someone was poised to kill you, or (worse yet) someone you care about, and there was nothing that you could do about it? This is the ultimate dread. This is where true horror lies.

Subconsciously, we use defense mechanisms to negate these feelings. For example, how many of us have been to see a horror film and went with a person who continued to berate the victims for the stupid decisions that they make to survive? How many of us know never to go down into the basement to reset the circuit breakers in the fuse box? How many of us know to never go outside alone to “check out” that noise in the woods? Of course, we wouldn’t make those rash decisions! We’re smarter than that. Yet, what would you do? How do you know that the decision that you make is the correct one? What makes you certain that the stalker/killer did not already account for the move(s) that you make?

Let’s just say that I wouldn’t want to play a game of chess with Jason Voorhees.

The horror film is one long study in fight or flight. Those that choose to flee are caught and killed. Those that fight back are shown the futility in this endeavor and are killed (unless they are the “final” victim). The fight or flight mechanism is engrained in our psyche so deeply that it is something that we can universally relate to. We can see ourselves in the shoes of these characters and sympathize with their plight. We can be glad that we are not them. In an article that I wrote entitled The Seduction of Fear, I even go so far as to mention that we can even see ourselves in the shoes of the stalker/killer. This sympathy can make us feel closer to the characters. This serves to make the story even more intense for us.

Also, the themes can hit very close to home. In Stephen King’s The Shining, we see a thinly veiled allegory on the evils of alcoholism. Seduced by ghosts (and his incessant drinking) Jack Torrence is transformed into a monster and stalks his own family. In slasher flicks such as Friday the 13th, Jason Voorhees was an innocuous child who becomes a vengeful creature when he is neglected while at a summer camp and drowns. He takes it out on teens who smoke weed, have sex, and drink liquor (i.e. the same teens who would have allowed him to drown as a child). Who among us has not wanted to revenge themselves for someone’s wrongdoings? This can serve to humanize the villain/monster. The horror of sympathizing with the victim as well as the predator can be powerful in itself.

In a final reference to the fight or flight and inevitability of one’s demise, just think of this final concept. Let us say that you have spent an entire hellish night being terrorized by a monster/demon/whatever. Let us say that you have seen your friends, family members, and significant other be chopped to pieces and you have decided that enough is enough. You decide to take matters into your own hands and (against better judgment and warnings from some crazy person) try to kill that creature. You have discovered the monster’s Achilles heel and you have exploited it. In an epic battle with this creature, you (miraculously) kill this monster. Tired and drenched with blood, you crawl away from the epic battlefield to the nearest police station or hospital. You tell your story to anyone who will listen. What would be the worst thing that you can imagine? Would it be that notion that this creature was not killed, and is looking for you to start the whole horrific ordeal all over again? One of the biggest horrors is to realize that everything the final victim has gone through was all for nothing, and worse yet, they will have to go through it again. This horror is the Circular Reality of Horror.

As such, most of the sequels of horror films are based from this very premise. I do not write this to justify unnecessary sequel after sequel of bad horror (Did Friday the 13th really need so many sequels?). I write this to show the true horror that resides as a premise behind most horror fiction. There is a predictability that happens in these stories.

How many times have you gone to see a horror film and the film becomes so predictable that you can almost recite the last fifteen minutes of the film by heart…