Why We Crave Horror Movies

“When we pay our four or five bucks and seat ourselves at tenth-row center in a theater showing a horror movie, we are daring the nightmare.”

King uses the phrase “daring the nightmare” to refer to those who face their fears, particularly their fear of death, by going to see a horror film. He paints a picture of this scene by using the specific imagery of sitting in a theater.

“Freda Jackson as the horrible melting woman in Die, Monster, Die! confirms for us that no matter how far we may be removed from the beauty of a Robert Redford or a Diana Ross, we are still light-years from true ugliness.”

This is the first of two film examples used in the essay. King uses them not to describe plot or delve into concrete examples in horror film history but to support the essay’s argument. Here, he uses the example to illustrate how the ugliness of monsters in horror films contrasts with the “normality” of everyday viewers and the film industry’s portrayals of ideal physical beauty.

“And we go to have fun. Ah, but this is where the ground starts to slope away, isn’t it? Because this is a very peculiar sort of fun, indeed. The fun comes from seeing others menaced—sometimes killed.”

King describes how people go to see horror movies for amusement but then notes that viewing these movies is a strange type of entertainment based on seeing others murdered or threatened. This serves as a transition into a discussion of what’s really behind this strange impetus.

“One critic has suggested that if pro football has become the voyeur’s version of combat, then the horror film has become the modern version of public lynching.”

This provocative overstatement invites consideration of whether—or to what extent—it’s true. The mention of lynching might shock present-day readers, but the analogy emphasizes the act of watching others get killed in a horror movie as a more detached method for killing as entertainment in which audiences are aware that the bloodshed isn’t real.

“[…] horror film intends to take away the shades of gray…. It urges us to put away our more civilized and adult penchant for analysis and become children again, seeing things in pure blacks and whites.”

King explains how horror movies allow audiences to tap into their childlike perspective of seeing things in only black and white, and this statement alludes to the upcoming argument about good versus bad emotions as opposites but two sides of the same coin.

“It may be that horror movies provide psychic relief on this level because this invitation to lapse into simplicity, irrationality and even outright madness is extended so rarely.”

King argues that horror movies allow viewers some relief for their fears and provide a means for irrationality and the “insanity” that he argues is in everyone. He posits that expressing “insanity” is unacceptable in most areas of life but safe to do while viewing a horror film.

“If we are all insane, then insanity becomes a matter of degree.”

Here, King explains that “insanity” is relative. He follows this statement with a description of serial killers as examples of the most extreme end of the “insanity” spectrum.

“Our emotions and fears form their own body, and we recognize that it demands its own exercise to maintain proper muscle tone.”

King uses the metaphor of emotions and fears as constituting a “body” that requires exercise, no matter what type of emotions or fears they are. He extends the metaphor into an analogy by explaining that this exercise helps maintain muscle tone.

“When, as children, we hug our rotten little puke of a sister and give her a kiss, all the aunts and uncles smile and twit and cry. But if we deliberately slam the rotten little puke of a sister’s fingers in the door, sanctions follow—angry remonstrance from parents, aunts, and uncles; instead of a chocolate-covered graham cracker, a spanking.”

This vignette illustrates the different ways that society rewards and punishes people in relation to their positive and negative emotions. Positive emotions are reinforced through reward, while negative ones are repressed through punishment. He uses descriptive imagery like “rotten” and “puke” to evoke distaste and illustrate the problem with sharing anticivilization emotions in real life rather than repressing them, as society and authority figures expect.

“But anticivilization emotions don’t go away, and they demand periodic exercise.”

This transitional statement argues that anticivilization, or negative, emotions need to be released, rather than repressed. This leads into King’s argument for the purpose of horror films as a relatively safe release of negative emotions and connects to his argument that if they aren’t “exercised,” the “hungry alligators” will escape.

“The best horror films, like the best fairy tales, manage to be reactionary, anarchistic, and revolutionary all at the same time.”

King argues that the best horror movies share the qualities of opposing change and confirming “normality,” fighting against the norm, and promoting radical change. These conflicting forces fight against each other, creating dramatic tension in these films that makes them more effective. By this argument, a film that has only one of these qualities would be less interesting to viewers.

“The mythic horror movie, like the sick joke, has a dirty job to do. It deliberately appeals to all that is worst in us.”

King notes that horror movies ask audiences to address the worst in themselves, that it is a dirty job. By using the term “job,” he emphasizes the necessity of their existence. They aren’t mere hobbies or diversions. He acknowledges that they appeal to the worst in people—but only to help them find an outlet for this part of themselves safely.

“For myself, I like to see the most aggressive of them—Dawn of the Dead, for instance—as lifting a trap door in the civilized forebrain and throwing a basket of raw meat to the hungry alligators swimming around in that subterranean river beneath.”

This personal statement connects King’s previous argument to his own experiences of viewing films in the horror genre. He uses the metaphor of hungry alligators to make the point that these emotions, those that live beneath the surface of civilized emotions, must be expressed, or “fed.”