Top Ten Tuesday: Horror Flicks that Don’t Rely on Jump Scares

I love horror movies of all kinds, but lately I’ve come to really appreciate those that can disturb their audience without over-reliance on the age old horror tool, the jump scare. I wrote a thing about it here, but in essence, when a film doesn’t rely heavily on jumps and jolts, it allows the its atmosphere and themes to really shine through, which tend to be more memorable and enduring for the audience. So here’s a quick list for #TopTenTuesday of great films that focus on deeper thematic horror beyond just jumps. Not that there isn’t still a jump or two here or there, you know, for good measure.

#10: The Invitation

There’s a current trend in mainstream comedy that my colleague and I have dubbed cringecore– basically comedy excruciatingly derived from awkward situations. The Invitation seems a bit like the black sheep of that family, in that it follows what might be the most awkward dinner gathering in history. Rather than turning funny, however, things get pretty messed up. The horror here comes in the audience’s unraveling of the relationship history among the attendees, culminating in a pretty thrilling climax. It’s enthralling for all the right reasons.

#9: A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night

Filmed in a noir-reminiscent black and white, this Persian-scripted film is an excellent, fresh take on the vampire tropes. Visually memorable and feminist in nature, the movie has been largely praised by critics, who like me, agree that it’s awesome to see such a vivid, humanist portrait of what is so often treated only with broad strokes. Add to this that the move is also just downright creepy thanks to its use of darkness, shadow, and of course to a haunting performance by Sheila Vand, and we have a winner.

#8: It Follows

A lot has been said about this movie. It’s definitely a darling of the indie horror circuit largely for its use of its unsettling, mildly surreal atmosphere. Some interesting reading on that atmosphere can be found here. It also predated Stranger Things as a scary love letter to the 80s with its haunting synth-heavy soundtrack. All elements collide in just the perfect way to turn what could have been a lame cautionary tale about teenage sex into something much more nuanced and artistic.

#7: Antichrist

Lars von Trier’s first entry into his unofficial “depression trilogy” is laden with his signature use of rich metaphor and symbolism, which some find overbearing. It covers a topic oft dealt with in horror: grief. Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg play parents dealing with the death of their young son, who foolishly decide to figure things out at an isolated cabin in the woods. The film was the subject of controversy upon release, drawing rightful accusations of misogyny in its thematic messages. However, taken as a trilogy with its successors, Melancholia and Nymphomaniac, once can start to see with more nuance the message: the assessment that mankind by its very nature is evil, because nature itself is evil. It’s pretty heavy metal.

#6: We Need to Talk about Kevin

 

Be warned. This one is definitely going to harsh your mellow. It’s a story that gets at deep seated horrors of parenting with ambiguity enough to keep you thinking about it for years. Without giving away spoilers, it also gets at some of the darkest trends of real life horror observable in current events: truly an American horror film. It’s always weird to see John C. Reilly giving serious performances (forever Dr. Steve Brule to me), and yet he does so admirably here. However, the real credit is due to an intense, heartbreaking performance by Tilda Swinton. If you haven’t seen it, you need to. Just make sure it’s already been a crappy day, because things won’t get better afterwards.

#5: The Babadook

The Babadook offers a more allegorical approach to the subject of child rearing. Essie Davis protrays Amelia, a widow struggling at once to cope with the death of her husband, and to manage her particularly difficult son, Sam, who shows some symptoms of autism, although it is never explicitly discussed. Sam’s obsession with a childhood monster becomes a supernatural pressure point on Amelia, whose unraveling illustrates with incredible foreboding the toll her life is taking on her. It’s always nice to see women of horror at work, and director Jennifer Kent sets the bar high.

#4 Alter Ego

I’m sure at this point, the list has become pretty predictable, so I wanted to throw a wild card on here for you. Takashi Shimizu (director of Ju-On, among other memorable J-horror films) was a “supervising director” on this low-budget affair in 2002, and let me first say that most would probably not consider this film on the same critical level as others on this list. The production is cheap, the acting isn’t great and the script, well. Let’s just say it follows suit. HOWEVER: I found it to have a certain B-film charm to it. The film follows a group of girls at a photoshoot on the campus of an empty school. One by one, malicious doubles appear to pick them off. Shimizu makes the most with what he’s got, using some simple, but genuinely freaky special effects to make the doubles memorable, wacky and surreal. With its short run time of just about an hour, I recommend carving out a moment for this one, particularly if you like quirky, weird horror. Find it on Shudder.

#3: Contracted

Here’s a novel idea: a zombie movie that focuses on the horrors of a single person becoming a zombie, rather than the apocalyptic hordes-of-undead stuff of traditional zombie lore. If the purpose of a jump scare is instantaneous payoff, Contracted seems to follow an opposite philosophy: the film’s horror is all about the slow degradation of its protagonist. You may need to look past a few hard-to-swallow moments, but this one rewards, overall. Extra kudos to the makeup team for subtly turning the protagonist into a pile of death over time.

#2: Beyond the Walls

Okay, technically Beyond the Walls is a three part miniseries rather than a film, but the pieces can easily be taken as a whole. It’s got an intriguing premise: a woman who inherits a mysterious house discovers a door inside its walls leading to a strange other-worldly place. I leave the spoilers off from there. The story is imaginative and dark, and there are a handful of cool visual moments that lend some memorable creepiness to it all, all without a single jump scare. There are a few unexplained moments and plot peculiarities, but on the whole, this one satisfies.

#1: The Witch

 

There was a lot of hype surrounding this one, and for once, it was all deserved. I can’t recommend this film enough to any horror fan. It is subtle, artistic, dark and heavily atmospheric while featuring some outstanding performances. The film is about a puritan family who is excommunicated to live on their own. Slowly, they succumb to their own flaws and are preyed upon until the film’s disturbing and memorable climax. The film is a wealth of possible interpretation, and I’m sure many will put their spin on it in the years to come. If you are a horror fan, you kind of have to check this one out.

 

Why No Alien Sequel Will Ever Be as Scary as the Original

The Alien series has walked a crooked line in the sci-fi genre. What began as a sci-fi/horror franchise quickly gave way to  sci-fi-action leanings with the release of Aliens and ensuing sequels. Eventually the franchise crossed over into B-film territory (Alien V. Predator, anyone?) before director Ridley Scott attempted a return to seriousness with Prometheus. In terms of genre, it is truly a meandering franchise.

Of course, for my tastes, straight horror is the way to go. The new trailer for Alien: Covenant looks promising in that regard. What few glimpses it offers seem to make excellent use of shadow and dark atmosphere, contrasted with a blisteringly exposed chest-bursting scene, all of which signal a return to the techniques of tasteful horror film making.

But sequels to Alien are, by their nature, flawed. I’ll go so far as to say that no Alien sequel will ever be as unnerving as the original. What ruins further installments is the viewer’s foreknowledge of the Alien universe as he or she experiences each new film. Director Ridley Scott seems hell-bent on clearly delineating the Alien mythos with his continued installments, thus reducing the audience’s discomfort with each sequel.

I wasn’t yet born when the Alien was released in 1979, but I can imagine what it might have been like to be in that audience. For someone who’s never heard of the Xenomorph, the experience of watching one reproduce must have been, well, alienating. The discovery of the downed alien spacecraft and the room of eggs on LV426 conveys a sense of dread, mystery, and foreboding, accentuated by the copious darkness in the atmosphere. The original chest-bursting scene, with no previous knowledge of what would take place, would have induced an incredible helpless anxiety, like being on a roller coaster you aren’t sure is safe. The entire process, from face-hugger to chest-bursting to the acid blood, is a horrific exploration that the crew of the Nostromo desperately does not want, but thanks to the claustrophic confines of the ship, have to endure. It is a plot designed to make its viewer feel estranged from normalcy and hopeless. In order to achieve that effect, the viewer must also find it strange and new.

H.R. Giger’s original artwork would eventually become the Xenomorph.

In addition to the strangeness of the Xenomorph life cycle, one should also consider the appearance of the beast itself. Surrealist artist H.R. Giger designed the Xenomorph to be at once horrifying and alluring. Importantly, it lacks eyes, preventing audience empathy and projection, and adding a level of unpredictability to the creature’s actions. As whatculture.com notes, there is also a certain rapey sexuality in the construction of the Xenomorph, such as its phallic inner mouth, or the shape of its elongated dome. As some have pointed out, it is a creature which is meant to embody rape itself, in form and deed. An audience’s first view of the xenomorph is at once familiar and unusual in a most unsettling way that requires repeated viewings to get used to. And yet, with the years, sequels, and community formed around the film, a collective desensitization has been accomplished.

Of course, this phenomenon goes along with any monster that stars in multiple installments of a franchise. With Alien, however, the very purpose of the film is to immerse its audience in an uncomfortable strangeness. Without that strangeness, the film makes considerably less of an impact. John Carpenter brilliantly circumvented this problem, either intentionally or unintentionally, by turning the franchise from horror to action. In doing so, he created a different kind of satisfying experience, but not a scary one. We horror addicts have been hard pressed to find a post-1979 Alien experience to be anywhere near as nightmare-inducing.

With this in mind, the only way Alien: Covenant can live up to its horror origins is by introducing aspects of the universe the fans haven’t seen yet. Doing that risks losing the original film’s concision, however, and could easily tip over into ridiculousness. I maintain a cautious optimism about the new film, but I expect it will seem more like an impersonation of the original rather than a unique installment worthy of consideration on its own.

Revisiting The Blair Witch Project

 

Let’s talk about found footage horror for a moment. It’s a subgenre that has enjoyed a considerable heyday over the past two decades or so. Launched somewhat by the cult favorite Cannibal Holocaust, and more so by the release of 1999’s The Blair Witch Project, found footage went on to see thousands of releases throughout the 2000s and 2010s. It became the popcorn flick of the horror genre– the role previously filled by slashers in the 80s and 90s. Given a quick examination of finances, it’s no wonder why found footage horror became notable. The Blair Witch Project was made for $60,000, and returned a comparatively incredible $1.5 million in its opening weekend (Not to mention its $140 million lifetime gross, according to boxofficemojo.com). In its opening weekend, The Blair Witch Project returned about 2,500% of its budget. It’s easy to understand why found footage horror gained the attention of the Hollywood money machine, and why for a good minute there, it had such a hell of a run. The Blair Witch Project remake was released recently, marking a milestone for the genre, and so I’d like to take a moment to return to this ever divisive film for a new critical look.

I first saw The Blair Witch Project when it came out on VHS. I was 11 years old. It inspired me, as it did many others, to grab my dad’s camera and make a parody film, beginning a hobby that I would pursue for the next decade. I found the movie laughable at that age. What could possibly be scary about a bunch of idiots screwing themselves over in the forest? I cringed at the entire middle act of the film, which was essentially a half hour long screaming match. The impression colored my idea of the found footage genre in the ensuing decade and beyond. Upon further review, I will admit that my critical faculties at age 11 might not have been as sharp as I thought. Actually, I feel prepared to say of the many found footage films I’ve seen, The Blair Witch Project is probably the most artfully done.

The film, by necessity, is probably the most conservative horror film I’ve ever seen in terms of actual screen time it dedicates to its monster. With virtually no budget, it’s easy to see why this is the case. The witch (or what-have-you) is left 100% to the viewer’s imagination, which is a stark contrast to many of the found footage films The Blair Witch Project inspired. Leaving the monster to the audience’s imagination is a hallmark of many beloved classic horror films, and allows the viewer to appreciate the film’s use of atmosphere, which requires much more subtlety of a film crew.

The Blair Witch Project is actually a very patient depiction of seeping panic, and how it can cause a group of perfectly decent people to behave monstrously. Although the woods are (maybe) stalked by some unseen evil, what ultimately undoes our protagonists is distrust and betrayal. Mike kicks the group’s only guidance into a creek because it is “useless,” an expression of frustration at Heather’s inability to navigate. As tensions set in, they all begin to subscribe to the idea of Heather’s, and then each other’s, incompetence. Sure, the arguing and bickering gets tiresome, and as they get more agitated, the camera work becomes nauseating, but it’s a pretty realistic, convincing depiction of a frightening idea: Just below the surface of each and every one of us, there is a panicked half-wit waiting to emerge when enough goes wrong.

The film even deals relatively well with a fundamental problem all found footage movies must tackle, and it’s something that has always bothered me about the found footage premise: Why, when faced with life threatening scenarios, do people continue to film, rather than devote the whole of their energy to survival? The Blair Witch Project is rife with conflict over the continued filming throughout. One of the film’s major conflicts is, paradoxically, the film’s very existence in the first place. The fact that Heather keeps the cameras rolling at times of stress is a major factor in the fallout and ultimate death of the our protagonists. Heather’s dedication to her craft serves as to satisfy the question that often goes entirely unanswered in found footage, and even elevates the film to a level of postmodern irony. What, after all, is more horrific? The fact that these terrible things happened to a bunch of students, or the irony that in trying to share their experience with the world, these same students caused those terrible things to happen to them?

The Blair Witch Project, for all the mainstream attention it garnered, is a surprisingly deep work of fiction. Is it perfect? Of course not. But set against the backdrop of the entire found footage movement, it sets itself aside as an experience and work of art.