The Horrors of Settling Down

I’ve been thinking a lot about horror movies lately.

There’s something about the genre that lends itself easily to psychological and symbolic analysis. As entertaining as they may be, horror flicks certainly are not the most creative movies out there. They’re pretty similar to each other when it comes to their cinematography and plots. Just consider the excitement whenever one innovates in these regards - The Blairwitch Project, Get Out, etc… But what if the homogeneity of the genre was the point?

The most common remark you may hear when watching a horror movie with someone is some variation of “I would have left right there”. A wise point, indeed. Very often, we’re witnessing stubborn characters inexplicably choosing to stay in a situation whose flags couldn’t be any redder. But this may be the actual tragedy horror movies try to convey. The monstrous weight of responsibilities, stability, and privilege to the point where they become nefarious. Terror, at the cinema, happens in places of wealth and success: big suburban houses and manors inhabited by wealthy and educated families.

Horror movies transcribe the unseen anxiety of those who live in gilded cages. Superficially successful, but bound by their family, their traditions, society, their past, etc… A movie like Hereditary, for example (with its evocative name), can be understood as a metaphor for the discrepancy between the image suburban families try to convey and their own knowledge of the ‘rot’ hidden in their home, which only appears at dusk when nobody else’s here. This is about the feeling that there is a particular perversity or some hidden wickedness among themselves. And the cheerier their external facade appears, the darker their inner malevolency is.

This is why traditional markers of happiness and innocence - children’s songs, wedding gowns, or happy portraits, always foretell the most terrible events.

That may be the true appeal of horror - to peek into what people try to hide under the carpet.