Creature Comfort: Why Horror is the Coziest Genre

 

The Scoop features personal essays on movie-centric topics. Find the movies mentioned in this essay on Letterboxd.


By Natalie Pohorski

Many horror fans have found solace in films meant to sow fear. Why might that be? Let’s grab a dim flashlight, slowly open a creaky wooden door, and explore. 

1. Good and evil is black and white

The older we get, the more gray areas we encounter. Our lives are filled with so much subjectivity and nuance, and questions we don’t have the answers to. The unquestionable villains of horror provide the simplicity we crave.

Sure, this doesn’t apply to all horror movies. Sometimes we get the bully/victim role switch or a backstory that illuminates the mind of a killer. But if it’s supernatural horror, you bet your ass I’m not catching any feelings for demons possessing innocent children. I can sleep pretty well at night knowing the Cenobites that feed off of torturing human beings in Hellraiser will be sent back to where they came from. And the Leatherface tribe in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is honestly too scary to give you the chance to think about their level of pure evil.

2. The tropes are predictable, and that’s the point

One of the reasons we love franchises, for example, is we know what we’re going to get. 

I can check in with Friday the 13th’s Jason for mommy issues and machete kills. Freddy provides the laugh track in A Nightmare on Elm Street (and usually something weird with his tongue). I can count on Michael of Halloween to walk twice as slow as the victim he’s chasing but still catch them in the end.

While there are certainly rule breakers in the genre, we love the safety of understanding the parameters for whatever nightmare we find ourselves in. The Scream franchise identified some of these tropes as the rules of horror, which have become a kind of liturgy we love to recite: 

“#1: You can never have sex. #2: You can never drink or do drugs. #3: Never, ever, ever under any circumstances say, “I’ll be right back.” Because you won’t be back.”

At its heart, The Cabin in the Woods (2011) is a love letter to horror fans. It embraces the tropes as part of our earthly mythology and imbues them with ancient meaning. I felt like director Drew Goddard was personally giving me a hug when Marty said: “OK, I’m drawing a line in the fucking sand here. Do not read the Latin.”

3. Horror movies can remind us that real life ain't that bad most of the time

I’m not saying the stuff of horror movies doesn't happen in real life. (Have you started the Dahmer series?) But the majority of the time, horror can remind us that things could be much, much worse. Is it possible that deep down we feel safer watching others suffer?

4. One word: Catharsis

We probably don’t want to admit it, but horror can be very cathartic. It’s deeply satisfying to watch people get what they deserve. It’s the deep breaths we take alongside Dani as she watches the yellow house burn in Midsommar, and the hysterical laughter Sally lets loose as she escapes in the back of a truck in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The revenge plots of A Nightmare on Elm Street, Sleepaway Camp, and Sorority Row (to name a few) can help us make sense of the evil we witness, because having clear-cut reasons and motivations can be very reassuring.

5. It’s a tactile, full-body experience

Because sometimes the only way to watch is in the fetal position, or clinging to the person next to you, or peering through blankets, horror can turn a two-dimensional art form into a tactile, sensory experience. In elementary school, I had to watch through my fingers as Marty peeled his face off in Poltergeist. At a middle school sleepover, my friends and I huddled together as we saw Samara climb out of the well in The Ring.

And now, as an adult, I cherish the times I can sink into the couch—remote and glass of wine in hand—and get cozy under the comfiest blanket, because I know I’m about to watch something horrific.

(Want more cozy horror recommendations? Try the podcast With Gourley and Rust!)