I love horror, and I'll never stop watching it.
A couple weeks ago I watched a scary movie (like I do) and reset my broke-ass brain. This particular film was an atmospheric terror-fest, slow burning yet frightening enough that a few times - viewing on our eight-foot screen and in an immersive sound environment - I scrunched my eyes and stuck my fingers in my ears.
It was great! In my esteeming of the film's fantastic spookitude I joined a consensus of critics - who loved the movie and called it "the scariest of 2020". I don't know about that, but it was pretty good!
Upon finishing, I thought, That was pretty great. I knew I'd probably watch it again someday. I dusted off my knees, stood up, proclaimed the film a nice little scare, and went on with my day. I went back to work, had dinner with the family, got in bed, and fell asleep like a baby.
At four in the morning I popped awake, my mind grinding away on a particularly creepy scene. I realized: I had to pee. I didn't want to swing my legs off the side of the bed. I snuggled under the covers and thought, OK it was just a movie! Get a grip!
You know what I'm talking about!
I survived the night of course, fell back asleep with ease (after my slightly nervewracking bathroom trip!), and woke up fresh as a daisy. By the next afternoon the film had become a working part of my brain, in this satisfying way that almost feels like a click. There's almost no other way to describe it - but it definitely feels therapeutic. Like a good workout or a brisk swim. The film is now a part of my working brain and it reset my stress down to lower levels. It feels like I managed something; like I accomplished something.
Why am I like this? Well I have theories, but for today does it really matter? My anxiety is mild to moderate and very very rarely it will dip into the "severe" category. I am so glad to be feeling better than I was years ago, but I still have to contend with this spicy mental affliction which can be quite punishing at times. In my case, pharmaceuticals and self-medicating did not work for me; the side effects were not something I was willing to live with. I cope with my anxiety through a program of yoga and exercise, group support, volunteerism, a Creative career, community participation and investment, - writing! - and yes, watching horror films. Honestly? I think my system's pretty good.
I completely understand why many people avoid horror. Please. I get it. A few years ago I was recommending a popular serial-killer series to my brother - because I thought he'd like the show's dry humor - and he said quietly, "I don't like shows like that." I'm like: Oh. Yeah, totally! I mean not everyone wants to see women hacked to death in the shower or eyeballs popping out of heads or raggedy-ass grudge spirits slithering out of your closet to drain your life force. I get it!
And I also want to point out to non-horror fans that we horror freaks aren't all in the same bloody bucket. Some of us like terror, some of us like ghosts and ghouls, some of us like gore-fests or splat-stick or torture franchises. Some of us love the classics; some of us watch any obscure little piece of whatever that we can find on a streaming service or in a bargain bin. So yes I am obsessed with horror but I don't like every horror film and there are even entire genres I don't have much use for (not one rape revenge film directed by a man has meant shit; although the ones I've seen directed by women have been, in my estimation, pretty fantastic). So I may not like everything that's ever been put out but one true thing is I love discussing them all! Like anything else, as long as it's a genuine conversation and we're listening to one another - I am down for that convo! I mean I co-host a podcast based on this premise.
I can't really explain how these films help process my anxiety except to describe it a bit. I am so used to living in an anxious state that I forget how it feels to not feel this way. But by watching something scary, if it's the right kind of scary, I'm granted a bit of a reprieve. I get to check out of my own troubles and immerse in a fantasy (if a grim one). I get my adrenaline up, I giggle at tropes, I marvel at special effects, I loudly heckle the film (if my co-viewers are okay with that).
Bad horror is great but good horror is even better! If the film's a really good one my brain chews and chews and chews over it for about twenty four hours, before I've processed it - and this feels fantastic in a way almost impossible to describe. I feel calmer and I feel more focussed. The film will often become a working part of my creative practice. There's no accounting for taste but by way of example here are the last few films I viewed that got my brain grinding: The Lighthouse (2019), Midsommar (2019), The Wicker Man (the 1973 original of course - don't play!), Hereditary (2018), and I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives in the House (2016). Then there's just a lot of stuff I've watched recently that's either good or maybe not-great but is fun as hell: Lifeforce (1985), The Silence of the Lambs (1991), The Intruder (2019), Freaky (2020), The Thing (1982), Evil Dead II (1987), From Beyond (1986), and Below (2002).
Given my druthers I'd rather watch "good" and thinky horror than "fun" horror - but the former is a bit harder to source than the latter.
I know I'm not winning over the horror-averse with this essay and that certainly wasn't my intention here. I'm writing to all those living with mental and emotional illness, who relate. I know I can't be the only one!
Because we are so often told to meditate, to self-validate, to take this or that pill, to accept ourselves, to "eat right", to give ourself a break, to invest in self-care, to exercise. OK - fine.
But sometimes we just need a big greasy gristly goofy hobby and that's absolutely allowed.
I am Kelly Hogaboom and this has been a pro-horror film PSA. You can follow my film diary here.
