The Wake

Panicking through the fog of a dream, there is a frantic groan, “My god, the fear is nauseating.” The frigid aura of a dusty nightmare clings to a sea of sprinkling smoke over rusty blackness while the dark depths rise to the surface with a sick gleam in the eye, slinging mutilation and gore. Lightning cracks from the mystic horn of another time and place; you are the terror that permeates this modern moment. A latent smile sneaks around your cold and trembling mouth, troublingly satisfied.

Perhaps this is the kind of frightful sensation we are all looking for when we go to see a scary movie. The horror genre has a certain sickness to it that has always been attractive for moviegoers, from the classic German expressionist to today’s gory thrillers. I can’t help being curious about the horror genre and our fascination with it. Perhaps a dark side resides in us all, whether we enjoy horror films or not; how else could we let such terrible things happen in our world? Whether it be a classic horror film that succeeds in generating a unique and chilling trip into a frightening world or a cheesy slasher film, the horror genre deserves some attention in the young twenty-first century.

But first, what has happened to the horror genre? The quantity of horror films may have risen, but the quality surely has decreased significantly. What a terribly formulaic genre it has become, usually following the same predictable conventions and forms. The content varies between standard storylines and worthless dialog, always full of sensational action scenes and usually with plenty of blood and close-ups of disgusting things, such as someone’s kneecap getting chopped with an axe. The blatant uses of gore and visible brutality have become the hallmarks of today’s horror films, leaving little to the imagination.

These complaints are extensions of broader criticisms of mainstream American filmmaking in general, which has sunk so low it has arrived at the point of ridiculousness. In almost all genres, the stuff that many people watch usually follows the same sensational patterns and seems to have the same characters in multiple movies. People would probably watch almost anything as long as it grabbed their short attention spans long enough to keep them entertained for an hour or so. Hollywood filmmaking has a certain level of shallowness to it, not challenging or engaging the viewer in any way. Surely there will be a lot of fantastic explosions, passionate kissing, loads of lame jokes and one-liners put together into a fairly predictable design. It’s also difficult not to notice more subtle and frightening trends, such as the vulgar objectification of women in almost any kind of Hollywood film anymore.

Indeed, the horror genre has become a joke. Recently I was let down by a film that many had assured me was really good. I must say, zombie scare 28 Days Later had its moments and was stylistically original, but ultimately it was a disappointment. From one point of view, within the confines of a “zombie movie,” it was well done. But that compromise is one that I’m hesitant to make. I am not impressed with a cookie-cutter approach to film making, regardless of the confines created to justify shitty movies. Indeed, some argue that observing these varying ridiculous and sometimes humorous forms are what make it amusing. They say, “It’s a horror movie, of course that’s what is going to happen,” letting the mediocrity slide by. I’m not so willing to exchange originality for the cheap thrills of clichéd films.

No matter what the state of mainstream horror movies is these days, we shouldn’t quit being curious about their possible significance in our increasingly violent societies and war-torn globe. More specifically, we should consider why we continue to be amused by fright and gore.

Perhaps I’ll share my own experience. When I was a zombie, my gashed face, painful groans and staggering limp didn’t keep me from keenly observing my surroundings. Yes, those cold nights in the cemetery provided some of the most thoughtful reflections on our current moment, seen through the scarecrows, full moons, dead bodies and not only fellow zombies, but also shadowy vampires, crazed pirates and some deranged clowns from the depths of a Tom Waits circus from hell. Those nights creepin’ around in the fog were great fun within the realm of the fright and blood.

Yes, I was zombie and in some ways, always will be. I was working during the Halloween festivities at Valleyfair, which cleverly turns into “ValleyScare” during October for their yearly haunted house attractions. It was an experience that stimulated a curiosity into the appealing and fun nature of fright. And what better crowd to observe in this situation than the suburban, upper-middle class as they came out to Shakopee with their friends and family? They paid money for entrance to the park to enjoy a variety of differently themed haunted house-type experiences, including the Blood Creek Cemetery where I growled, moaned, passively threatened, and occasionally chatted with the passer-bys. The company went all out on props, costumes and everything else to make it a success, as it was a business investment. Over the course of four weekends, I perfected my zombie mode of existence and had plenty of time to consider the significance of my grotesque costume and nightmarish scene as the happy families came through in search of fear and fun.

It is usually a family theme park, so they warned about the content at the door and advised small children not to participate; they were looking for an adolescent and young adult crowd and went all out with the brutality. For example, in Blood Creek Cemetery, where I was perfecting my scaring techniques, there was a fake creek lit to look like it was filled with blood and lined with mutilated bodies. It didn’t look all that real, but with all the fog machines, bloody zombies and tombstones, they succeeded in creating the appearance of an alternate reality, one where death hides around each corner and embraces you in sweet, sweet fear. All who passed through there met Damien, the butcher character who stood in the middle of the water and hacked away at fake body parts with a huge knife. He shouted at people as they walked by that he was going to kill them and chop them up as well; he was the highlight of the attraction.

The reactions were mixed, but I know that each night some foolish parents would bring their young kids through there, only to hurry out the exit with the kids in a panic of tears. It seemed like many people, not only the children, were still able to voluntarily get sent into a different dimension where fantasy and reality were not separate. There were many older folks whose reactions were mixed, but they all must have been united with the same subconscious fascination with death, destruction and mutilation.

In the film world, the horror genre must draw on these impulses. One thing to consider about horror films is how they create alternative spaces where strange, frightening and often violent things happen. This is a generalized notion of the genre, leaving room for slasher films, supernatural frights, realistic suspense thrillers or the totally alien worlds of films like David Lynch’s Eraserhead. These days, what are often missing are unique and original conceptual approaches, which are replaced by image content. The shock of seeing something disgusting suddenly takes the place of the imagination; we all now share the same visual images. This is significantly opposed to the classic approach used by Hitchcock. In this sense, the new horror movies are innovative; they just continually produce crappy films, such as the Final Destination series, which serves as a perfect example of this shallow approach to horror.

Similar trends also came through at ValleyScare. After the opening night, we were carefully coached by our “scare masters” (supervisors) to adopt different scare methods. On the opening night, many of us staggered around the guests in the fog, hoping to transport them and ourselves into a darker dimension of zombie domination and strove to make the “Blood Creek Cemetery” a glimpse into another reality. This approach was soon discouraged and more emphasis was put on to “actually scaring” patrons by means of sneaking up behind them with noise makers or a props and jumping at them. Many times this approach would elicit a startled jump or scream, but was it really scary? This approach seems to be less of a genuine and original scary situation than a cheap thrill of catching them off guard and eliciting their instinctual reaction to perceived aggression. Some of my fellow zombie employees got too much of a thrill from their powerful role, sometimes ganging up and surrounding the guest, at times not-so-passively threatening them with fake knifes and chains. What this approach lacks, which one also sees in the approach to many recent horror films, is an element of subjectivity; in this situation, people’s imaginations are left inactive. The startled reaction is just a natural response to being caught off guard. In the films, it is the same idea, but here you are getting caught off guard visually.

Either way, the helpless victims must fall to the satisfaction, consciously or not, of some deviant part of our mind. What it is that drives our fascination with death is surely a mystery but deserves attention. At the very least, we know that death is an intimate part of our experience as humans. Every one of us will eventually die. While this is not usually on the top of ours minds, it is a fact that no one can hide from. Perhaps our horror