Why consciously inflict the worst on yourself for fun? From the Devil’s Manor to Conjuring, chills are the lifeblood of horror cinema. Horror films delve into our deepest emotions, dissecting our nightmares and anxieties. As part of our cycle on emotions and characters in cinema, Le Mag du Ciné questions our fascinated relationship with horrific works and especially our insatiable need to be afraid of ourselves. The days when we were terrified of what might be hiding under our beds are never far away.
” I hope it is not too scary… “. A phrase that you have heard from your friends when you tell them about the horror movie you are going to see tonight. A phrase so common for cinema lovers, but very special when you stop there for a few seconds. Do we hear the same reactions for the other films? ” Oh, I hope this comedy won’t make me laugh too much ” or “I hope this action movie won’t be too spectacular. “. Horror films are the only type that we hope for not too high an intensity. Watching a horror film, therefore, appears to be a sadomasochistic experience in which the viewer voluntarily leaves his comfort zone. A controlled fear that we inflict on ourselves by choice with full knowledge of the facts. But we are all unequal in the face of fear. Sociologist Margee Keer explained in her book “Scream: Chilling Adventures in the Science of Fear” that: “some are able to make it a positive experience. They feel more alive than ever and truly anchored in their body, a bit like after a very intense yoga session or a purely physical activity … Conversely, others will experience the same sequences as real anxiety attacks and will feel that they no longer control their reactions. “
Why some people love horror movies?
Torture-porn: suffering by transfer
But then why inflict such torture? Who consciously decides to pay to see their own nightmares and embarrass themselves? You barely start the movie that you are already wondering why you started it. And that’s normal. The heart rate accelerates, the concentration reaches its paroxysm, the level of dopamine explodes… The horrific cinema has the gift of making us switch from our sofa to a state of paranoia and maximum intensity. Deciding to see a film to scare oneself brings back to an intrinsic characteristic of Man: his instinct for survival. When you decide to watch Leatherface, the unleashed serial killer from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, running to cut up young teenagers, aren’t we also pushing the limits of what we can survive warm on our couch? Horror cinema is one of the few death experiences we can have and rehearse while surviving it. Each viewing of a terrifying film then becomes a way of putting oneself in danger (relative danger in bed or in a cinema room) and of feeling particularly alive. A sub-genre of horror cinema accompanies this idea to its climax: torture-porn. Trend truly popularized in the 2000s with the Saw franchise, it took its first steps in the early 1980s with films such as Eye for Eye by Meir Zarchi or Cannibal Holocaustscored by Ruggero Deodato. Torture-porn is characterized by films in which individuals (often the protagonists) are victims of sadistic beings and will find themselves tortured, slashed, tried to the end. The logic of these films is to plunge into extreme suffering, often where humiliation and radicalism prevail. Pascal Laugier’s feature film Martyrs already questioned this relationship to violence. In his film, innocent women were reduced to becoming human beings on the verge of corpse to represent universal martyrs. What if the heroes and heroines of these films were doomed to be the martyrs through whom viewers alleviated their suffering and their need for violence? The tragic characters of the horrific works suffer in our place for our greatest pleasure. And if we don’t particularly revel in their pain, we survive them.
The identification with the main characters being almost inevitable in the cinema, the dissonance is all the more striking. Many times we have caught ourselves saying, ” no, but why do you go this way?”. ” The characters of horror films do not a priori know that they are in a horror film. The one lodged well at the back of his sofa cannot fully understand the character who finds himself in the midst of the worst torments. And yet he imagines himself surviving everything, much smarter and more responsive than the unfortunate protagonists. In the Saw saga, the viewer follows characters facing terrible dilemmas. Immerse yourself in a syringe bath to retrieve a key, tear the skin off your back to get out of a car that will explode… The horror is total when the spectator is involved. It is, therefore, saving to be totally able to dissociate oneself from the film and to reassure oneself not to have to make these terrible choices. But between these two moments, an unprecedented adrenaline so dear to horror lovers. This need to be afraid of images goes back to the very beginnings of cinema; we can even locate the first horror film in 1896 with Le Manoir du Diable. By Georges Méliès. In this short three-minute film, Méliès plays with the editing to make many elements appear and disappear, like a bat turning into a man. Initially designed to amuse, Le Manoir du Diable will frighten its spectators. Since then, horror cinema has continued to evolve to better adapt to the fears of spectators. A little like the creatures of Monsters, Inc., who train themselves to best terrify children in their rooms. In the 70s and 80s, great classics were released that would shape horror cinema for decades: The Exorcist, The Shining, Halloween, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre… On the outskirts, many broke chicks who will try to surf on the success of these films and, in particular, on the wave of slashers. Today, horror films have completely infiltrated theaters to the point of making this genre, so provocative and disturbing, a very mainstream register. Annabelle, Dans le noir, La Nonne, Ouija … So many insignificant films armed with jump-scares and surfing on easy fears: dolls, witches, white ladies. Products totally calibrated to make you jump without ever offering real visions of horror. And around this, great fascinating works such as Ghostland or Hérédité emerge and offer radical horror experiences because the best horror movies are those that use fear to tell something else. The destruction of a family unit, the loss of a loved one in The Orphanage, racism in Get Out. These feature films manipulate a strong, primary sentiment to better serve their narrative. They dissect the troubles and anxieties of our world by using common and terrifying myths, alternating our perception of reality. David F. Sanberg’s short film Lights Out plunged us into a daze by moving a shadow forward and turning off the light. Almost 60 years ago, Hitchcock killed audiences by murdering his heroine in her shower halfway through the film inPsychosis. However, no penetration of the flesh is really filmed during this scene. The spectator is much more afraid of what he thinks he sees than of what he actually sees. Anticipation on the part of the viewer is an integral part of the horrific cinematic experience. Real terror is often out of the picture. If we are well protected in front of a film, the experience continues at home even with the screen off. In The Claws of the Night, we are taught that even sleep is not a refuge.
And the universal narrative of horror films dates back to our childhood, at those times when we were convinced that a monster was hiding under our bed and a ghost haunted our closet. To grab a few minutes of a horror movie on television sounded like a transgressive act. As we grew older, our fears changed. We no longer believe in werewolves holed up in the garden. But what is the point of seeing films about difficult ends of the month or taxes to be declared to scare oneself? Nestled with us, we feel the insatiable need to approach the ignoble in order to better surpass it. Standing in front of a film that will terrify us is the ultimate way to make us vulnerable and fragile. To be subject to the slightest slamming of a door or a falling lamp. By never forgetting to ask a single question: “çwasisn’t too scary, eh? “
Blog Vision 