Saturday, September 26, 2009

It's Only a Movie! - Part 3

Invoking fear is definitely a task which is easier to talk about than perform. Fear comes in all shapes and sizes. There are over 600 documented phobias, including Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia, or fear of the number 666. Try saying that ten times really fast.

Although there are many ways to go about this, I tend to lean towards the Less is More doctrine. One of the classic cases of this, is the movie Jaws. It's one of the scarier movies ever made, and it's all because Spielberg couldn't get the mechanical shark to work. Spielberg even admits that if he showed the shark as much as he wanted, it wouldn't have been as intense when Brody finally saw the shark. The scene where Roy Scheider first sees the shark, which is the first time the audience sees the shark, is one of the most memorable moments in movie history.

The one fear that is inherent in every human being, is the fear of the unknown. We all fear what we don't know or what we can't see. In a movie, once you show the monster, you've basically let the cat out of the bag, and it's just a weird looking tabby at that point. It also becomes increasingly difficult to maintain an element of suspense and fear once the audience has seen the monster. Once again, to reference Jaws, the shark shows up at about the end of the second act.

Introducing the evil to your audience is a matter which goes back to that prenuptial agreement you made with your audience. You don't build the audience up and then introduce them to a midget in a red jogging suit wielding a smoked herring. Even if he can chop down a tree with it, or bring about the Zombie Apocalypse, you've broken the contract.

I've always theorized that you could make a successful Horror Film where you never actually showed the monster. Of course, no one in Hollywood would ever have the guts to try it. Even in a movie like The Entity, you still had the four-cheese ending where they froze the demon so the audience could see the unseeable before the movie ended. At the end of the day, there's always going to be that movie executive who wants to see the monster.

He's right behind me, isn't he?

Possibly the biggest problems with the entire horror genre, is that it's become a cliché infested laundry sack. For some reason, when a filmmaker gets on-board a Horror Film, he feels the need to pay homage to every Horror Film he's ever seen. A director, who couldn't even make a battered wife's tale of triumph for the Lifetime Movie Network, all of a sudden becomes a walking, talking encyclopedia of Horror Film knowledge, and doesn't pass up a single chance to inject a cliché into a scene.

One of the worst clichés, which has probably been used more than the Wilhelm Scream, is the Kitty Cat Double Jump. They hear a noise in the house, slowly creep around to investigate it without making a noise, and the cat pops out and scares them (Jump 1). Oh, it's just the cat...then they calm down, turn around, and the killer shows up (Jump 2). It's been used to death.

I always wanted to see it go another way. They see the cat, turn around, then you see the cat's head grow ginormous, and then he opens his mouth and devours them. That would definitely teach them not to write off the cute little cat. Eh, you're just a stupid little cat, I'm not afraid of you--CHOMP!!! (If any Horror Filmmakers out there are interested, that idea is on sale this month for only $4,999.)

Today's filmmakers need to stop cannibalizing and get their own ideas. They need to get creative and actually earn their paychecks. I don't want to see the same thing I've seen a thousand times. I don't care about your inside jokes, clichés, or homages which you hold so dear because you think it makes you clever. If I cared, I'd go see one of the movies you're ripping off, because in most cases, it was infinitely better than the tub of lard you just belched out in front of me and called a movie.

Hey, Kid, you want to see a magic trick?
No thank you.

I don't want to be barraged with mind-blowing visual and sound effects at the expense of absolutely no character development or reason for me to care about the movie. Anyone can come up with a visually stunning way for someone to die, but it takes real talent to use it to kill a character in your movie and make me care. More than ever, I'm sick of Barbie-esque teens running around screaming, while large men with butcher's knives who don't know how to die stalk them. But--Hey, it sells tickets.