I love horror movies. Admittedly, I’m a big baby. I will sleep with the lights on, or not sleep at all. I will put my hands in front of my face and peek through my fingers. I will keep the lights on, or better yet, watch during the day. I will force people to accompany me to the bathroom when I have to pee, just so nothing can pop out of the shower or through the mirror at me. Even just writing this gives me a little thrill and makes my heart pound.
So why do I subject myself to this? I don’t know. I guess it’s like going on a roller coaster. I have no desire to sit on a roller coaster but millions of people do it each year for the thrill and excitement, right? Well that’s what horror movies are for me: thrill and excitement. I love reveling in the eerie, the unknown, the deranged, the creepy.
From drafthouse.com
I don’t like gore for gore’s sake (meh, no thanks, Saw franchise) but I thoroughly enjoy good psychological mind-bleeps. Psycho, anyone? Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a masterpiece and I will never, never understand why they keep trying to remake it. The lack of blood in that movie is startling once you go back and watch it for the fortieth time. “Oh yeah, I guess I really did just imagine this movie was gory as hell…”
Some remakes are fine. I enjoyed the updated versions of The Omen and The Amityville Horror. Usually though, I say leave it alone.
I love being scared. I love feeling like as soon as I turn around, something bad will happen. And I love imagining that when I shut the medicine cabinet door, some sinister being will be there grinning at me. When I watched The Exorcist for the first time (home alone, in the dark of course) as a 13-year-old, I spent the rest of the night experiencing panic attacks in my room. At the time I had no idea what a panic attack was, and so obviously I was convinced I was being possessed by the devil. Good stuff.
A lot of people don’t really understand the whole horror fan thing, and I suppose they never will. I hate to make generalizations, but a lot of them are older people. I wonder if I’ll become one of them as I get wrinkly. I hate to think I’ll give up my passions that way. Then I remind myself that I still get giddy over toys and stuffed animals at the age of 30 – childless, by the way. I will probably fight my children for their toys someday.
From rowsdowr.com
I’m getting sidetracked here. Who doesn’t love Halloween and the sheer terror you feel when you see Michael Myers standing silently in the background of multiple scenes? And what about when he finally gets “killed” – only to look out the window at the lawn and see that he’s disappeared yet again!
I won’t even get started on my personal favorite – the absolutely masterpiece that is House of 1000 Corpses. Here’s how my life often goes:
Random person: “Oh, what are those tattoos on your back?”
Derziriff: ”They’re characters from my favorite movie.”
Random person: “What movie?”
Derziriff: “House of 1000 Corpses.”
Random person: “Ohhhh…” Clearly creeped out, thinking I’m a psychopath, and backing away.
Horror movies often take the basest parts of human nature and lay them out for all to see. It’s like looking into a mirror but denying that the person inside is you. Like any horror fan – book, movie or other – I realize that human beings are pretty twisted but good at pretending they’re not. I think those of us who are unafraid of the darkest parts of our souls are just more in touch than other people.
So no, I don’t apologize for liking the murderer in May. I feel sorry for her. All she wanted was a friend. All she wanted was to be accepted.
This movie is amazing. Watch it if you haven’t ever seen it.
If you can’t relate, you are no friend of mine.
The Need to Be Clever 