Thursday, November 01, 2007

Showing and Telling

So last night I was watching one of those Bravo programs where they have B-List celebrities counting down scary movies. As has been noted before, I have a love/hate relationship with horror: I'm fascinated by the themes but don't actually enjoying reading or watching the vast majority of it. For instance, I can be riveted by someone describing the experience of watching Audition, and illuminating some of Miike's themes about power and gender, but I have no intention of ever seeing the movie myself.

Anyway, so there I am watching this show and here's Pam from The Office all tarted up like Mira Sorvino explaining to me the cinematic masterpiece that is Wolf Creek. Wha-? The spinal cord severing scene? Really? A great moment in horror history. OK. And they showed it. Sliced fingers and all. I'd expect this sort of thing from Dwight, but not Pam.

Needless to say, I did not watch Wolf Creek as my Halloween entertainment, and instead opted for the famous Hush episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now that's a masterpiece. Scary, violent, beautifully written. The Gentlemen alone are a fantastic invention, but the way Whedon uses the story to play with the theme of communication breakdowns in life and relationships is kind-of genius.

In the show's most frightening scene, we cut to commercial just as the Gentlemen are removing the heart of one of their victims with only a scalpel. Their metallic teeth gleaming in a horrific smile while their victim silently screams. All I could think about was how disappointing that cut away must be for real horror fans. After all, if this was Saw V, that scene would be the only part of the episode not cut. It would be the whole thing.

But as told, it's not only left to the imagination, it also heightens the scariness of the later scenes when the Gentlemen return. It's no gore fest. Nor is there a Lovecraftian descent into ecstatic madness. It's not even a spinal cord severing. But to me Hush gets closer to real fear by allowing its monsters to metaphorically stand in for our every day fears and common place anxieties.