You turn on the TV, plug in the movie, fall back on the couch with popcorn
in hand, and mentally prepare yourself for a night of sweet terror-filled
goodness. The black screen bursts into color and you sit in the apprehensive and
uneasy silence that precedes every worthy horror film.
The story begins by establishing characters; this is the alotted time given
to the audience to throw in their hand, to place bets on who lives and who dies,
to separate the prey from the predator. Then commences the plot; a bestowing of
stereotypical roles: the helpless victim, the strong-willed fighter, the
egocentric air head, the doomed authority figure, the knowledgable warrior, the suspicious introvert, and
so on and so forth. As characters are lost the plot thickens and twists,
captivating spectators, quieting the crowd. The killer (if not already unmasked)
takes center stage. The events come together; the motive, made clear, discloses
the perpetrator's disposition. If all goes well, the movie ends with the
knowledge that the "bad man" is still out there and if not, another one will
take his place. It's best to leave a delicious dose of reality like that for the
end.
Some say that all horror films are predictable, just new faces and a small tweak
to the plot. But isn't that a kind of security; a comfort to always have a
general idea of what is to happen, a grasp on what will be? And what about the
sprinkling of films that outshine their compadres? The ones that don't follow
the standard plot. Classics such as The Thing, The Exorcist, The House on
Haunted Hill, and Alien. Gore fests like Saw, Hostel, The Hills Have Eyes,
Creep, The Midnight Meat Train, and The Descent. Psychological thrillers such as
Se7en, American Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, The Sixth Sense, and The
Shining. Contrary to popular belief, there are plenty of films under the
category of "horror" that make you think twice about walking through your
basement without the light on, films that make you check behind your door or
under your bed before you feel safe.
You turn on the TV, plug in the movie, fall back on the couch with popcorn
in hand, and mentally prepare yourself for a night of sweet terror-filled
goodness. The black screen bursts into color and you sit in the apprehensive and
uneasy silence that precedes every worthy horror film.
The story begins by establishing characters; this is the alotted time given
to the audience to throw in their hand, to place bets on who lives and who dies,
to separate the prey from the predator. Then commences the plot; a bestowing of
stereotypical roles: the helpless victim, the strong-willed fighter, the
egocentric air head, the doomed authority figure, the knowledgable warrior, the suspicious introvert, and
so on and so forth. As characters are lost the plot thickens and twists,
captivating spectators, quieting the crowd. The killer (if not already unmasked)
takes center stage. The events come together; the motive, made clear, discloses
the perpetrator's disposition. If all goes well, the movie ends with the
knowledge that the "bad man" is still out there and if not, another one will
take his place. It's best to leave a delicious dose of reality like that for the
end. 
Some say that all horror films are predictable, just new faces and a small tweak
to the plot. But isn't that a kind of security; a comfort to always have a
general idea of what is to happen, a grasp on what will be? And what about the
sprinkling of films that outshine their compadres? The ones that don't follow
the standard plot. Classics such as The Thing, The Exorcist, The House on
Haunted Hill, and Alien. Gore fests like Saw, Hostel, The Hills Have Eyes,
Creep, The Midnight Meat Train, and The Descent. Psychological thrillers such as
Se7en, American Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, The Sixth Sense, and The
Shining. Contrary to popular belief, there are plenty of films under the
category of "horror" that make you think twice about walking through your
basement without the light on, films that make you check behind your door or
under your bed before you feel safe. 