By Laura McCarthy.
The recent success of media in the horror genre is undeniable. During the very first opening weekend at the cinema this year, we have seen Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu become the top grossing film at the box office in the UK, grossing £5.2million and becoming Focus’ seventh highest grossing title. This January, we have also seen Demi Moore earn a Golden Globe for Best Female Actor for her performance in The Substance, stating that this was the ‘first time [she] has ever won anything as an actor’ in her acceptance speech.
This award is but one sign of changing attitudes towards the horror genre. Many horror fans will agree that, for years, the genre has been snubbed by the most acclaimed award shows. Instead, horror buffs have carved out their own niche spaces to praise and show appreciation for the incredible work which often goes ignored, including the YouTube channel Dead Meat who started hosting their own popular horror award show online in 2022.
This being said, there have been several notable victories for the genre in the past. Almost everyone knows the pub quiz fact that The Silence of the Lambs was the first and only horror to become an Oscar award winner for Best Picture (alongside winning six other Oscar awards in 1992). Other classics such as Jaws, The Omen, and The Exorcist have also won Oscars for sound, score, and editing. More recently, Jordan Peele’s modern masterpiece Get Out won Best Original Screenplay in 2018 and was nominated for three others. Notably, Peele lost out to Guillermo Del Toro’s The Shape of Water that year, another film which embraced several elements of horror, featuring a misunderstood creature somewhat alike that of Frankenstein’s monster, Edward Scissorhands, or Bud the zombie from Day of the Dead.
When all is said and done, award shows aren’t everything, especially for something as subjective as film or literature. I, for one, do not need them to tell me what I do or do not like, and neither do other horror fans. Whilst I may not buy into the hype of several horror creatives (like Ari Aster – sorry!), I have found that some brilliant horror media is coming to the forefront of late. For example, Robert Eggers is one of my favourite creatives for the genre; there’s not one of his films which I dislike, with The Lighthouse being the star of the show.
Of course, I went to see Nosferatu on January 1st, sticking my fangs in as soon as I was able to do so. Personally, I was not disappointed. The film made homage to the 1922 original with some tasteful nods, such as when Herr Knock hides his satanic sketches during his discussion with Thomas about a… life changing opportunity. Nosferatu captured the essence of the original, whilst still having something new to say. My favourite sequence was Thomas’ journey up to, and time inside, the vampire’s castle. In the moonlit scenes here, the German Expressionist style of the original is modernised, made truly breath-taking by cinematographer Jarin Blaschke, using a filter which eliminated red and yellow light. This sequence feels incredibly dreamlike, the pacing well considered to create the sense that time is distorted when Count Orlok comes into play.
Literature has also had some strong horror submissions. Last year, I read Julia Armfield’s Our Wives Under The Sea, which was a refreshing take on the genre, being from the LGBT perspective and moving away from the sensationalist narratives like that of Riley Sager’s work. Instead, this delivers a slow, unsettling story which stays with you for far longer. It feels real whilst also other worldly. The body horror is all the more haunting for the grounded tone. Simultaneously, it is disturbing and beautiful. With recent masterpieces like this, I hope this year promises more exciting and horrific media.
In 2025, I expect horror will continue the recent ascension in popularity, with many anticipated releases such as Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey and Danny Boyle’s 28 Years Later grabbing the attention of audiences; the latter of which dropped the most fantastically edited trailer last month, utilising the gripping 1915 reading of Rudyard Kipling’s Boots by actor Taylor Holmes; Holmes’ recital of the poem, gradually becoming more intense, creates an unnerving, even agonising, war-like atmosphere to provide a stark contrast with the incongruous Teletubbies theme tune at the start. When even the trailers are a work of art, you can see why horror is on the uprise and why audiences are really loving the genre right now.
Our love can also be explained through a psychological perspective. Various psychology experts over the years, such as Dr. Jonny Dudley from the University of Law and Dr. Glenn Walters, have explained that audiences love horror due to the exciting adrenaline rush caused by the initiation of our fight-or-flight response. Following this, the brain’s reward system leads to cathartic relief, which is equally delicious for our caveman brains.
Additionally, film scholars have suggested that we find horror appealing as it reflects the societal issues and fears which plague us. Cinema allows us a form of expression and to process or even find relief from these anxieties. As Wes Craven put it: ‘horror films don’t create fear. They release it’. Returning to the 28 Days Later franchise, for example, the first film in the series came to our attention alongside the Human Genome Project of the early 2000s, expressing our fears on how scientific tampering with biology could have disastrous consequences. Going back further, films like The Exorcist and Carrie reflect concerns about female autonomy around the time of Roe vs. Wade. If we look at classic plays from the early 1600s, such as Macbeth and Doctor Faustus, we see religious fears of the Devil take centre stage. Horror reflects what we fear most at the time.
So, what do recent horror hits suggest about our fears? An obvious example which blatantly bashes the audience over the head with key messaging is The Substance, which expresses our anxieties about our value as we age, particularly in regards to our appearance; in the age of social media, where we are assaulted with unrealistic body standards, it is a relevant message to contemporary viewers. Interestingly, many have also interpreted the film as a metaphorical expression of maternal fears, how being a mother can mean having your life drained from you by your child. Again, in an age where fewer people want children (myself included), this film could be seen as relatable to those who worry about becoming parents.
One of my favourite horror films in the last few years is Talk To Me, a supernatural film in which teenagers discover they can contact spirits using a severed hand. Despite the danger, they play with the hand as a party trick, allowing themselves to be possessed whilst their friends record it on their phones for social media. Protagonist Mia takes this too far and becomes addicted. Clearly, there are obvious parallels between the hand and addictive substances such as drugs and alcohol. The film expresses our fears about addiction, layering on anxieties about the culture of social media and how young people use their phones.
I might even argue that the aforementioned Nosferatu reflects our fears relating to COVID. Representations of vampires in cinema have historically been linked to infection and disease. One example of this is the return of vampire films in the 80s, like The Lost Boys, reflecting fears of corruption of the blood with the societal terror surrounding the AIDS epidemic, and now we see them arise again following COVID. I know, I know, it’s not like we haven’t seen vampires in more recent years in films which predate the COVID epidemic. However, the vampires of Twilight differ significantly from Eggers’ depiction – there are no sexy, glistening vampires here! Instead, we have an odious, foul creature which destroys without consideration. It is repulsive and no one is safe.
And what does the popularity of these films tell us? Well, it tells us that life is pretty scary right now. As a collective, we are feeling the fear that comes with horrendous wars (like that of Israel and Palestine), turbulent political scenarios (like the return of Trump), and a financial crisis. Let’s not forget the environmental issues arising across the world, the destruction of our NHS, or the dire state of education. Need I go on? Probably not. It’s quite depressing when you see it all laid out like that. But my point stands. More than ever, audiences have been flocking to see horror films and it’s no coincidence that we are also feeling the impact of the real life horrors we see every day.
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