I’ve always had a sneaking fondness for horror films. Growing up, my favourites were the old-school ones with dodgy prosthetics, creaking doors, flickering candles, and Indian burial grounds.
There was something cathartic about watching scary things happening to other people, knowing you were safe in your room… or were you? (Hollow laughter echoes). Plus you felt secure knowing that you were smarter than the idiots investigating the creepy noises, in the cellar, by themselves, in their underwear.
Now that I’m a Christian I think differently about horrors. I’m more discerning about what I watch. I don’t see media consumption as purely entertaining. It’s all part of a mental ‘diet’ that can be healthy or not, and let’s face it, so much of horror movies is simply junk, and demeaning junk at that. But then again, ‘junk’ is a label you could apply to lots of different genres. And the danger is that other genres fly under the ‘junk radar’. Think of some of the awful messages you could imbibe from a junk romance:
- You need a romantic partner to complete you or you will be sad and alone
- You’ll know your soulmate because of your instant, irresistible and ongoing attraction
- Good relationships should come easily and naturally — and if they don’t, you need to move on because Mr Right is clearly Wrong
If you ask me, these evils can be more dangerous than a chainsaw-wielding maniac, because they don’t present themselves as wicked. They come dressed as a heart-throb and gain our trust so much more easily. But horrors tell the truth. Here are three realities they confront us with.
1. Evil is real.
There was Rosemary’s Baby in 1968 and The Omen in 1976, but it was The Exorcist in 1973 that really gained both critical acclaim and popular fascination regarding the reality of evil. Many, awakened to the existence of supernatural evil, flocked to the church for refuge. And today, for many, horror movies are the one thing that reminds them of a transcendent plane to this world. They teach what 1 Peter 5:8 warns us about, 'Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.' Secondly, they also teach…
2. Death is inevitable.
The most basic kind of horror traps unsuspecting young beauties in a deadly circumstance. One by one they are picked off and you can’t guess who will be next. This is, of course, uncomfortably close to the plot of our own lives (though, the youth and beauty are more questionable, especially as the years progress). But horrors confront us with an unvarnished version of life on planet earth: the doors are locked and no-one gets out alive. As Psalm 103 says, 'The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone.' Very few things are able to confront young people with their mortality, but horror movies break through with an uncomfortable but necessary truth: death is inevitable. They also show us…
3. Sin is self-destructive.
As Randy says in Scream (1996), 'There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance, number one: you can never have sex. BIG NO NO! … Sex equals death, okay? Number two: you can never drink or do drugs… The sin factor! It's a sin.' While pure malevolence stalks the film, the victims fall according to their ‘sins’ and then, very often, the malevolent force collapses under its own weight. They 'dig a pit' and fall into it (Psalm 7:15, Ecclesiastes 10:8, Proverbs 26:27). Horrors are incredibly moral.
None of this makes them good in themselves or worthy of our attention necessarily. I’m not recommending you watch Saw 7 (or whatever number sequel they’re up to now), but maybe the horror genre is serving a purpose in God’s providence. Through them we can see truths far deeper than the 'you do you' of expressive individualism. Maybe it’s the kid’s movie preaching innocence and self-reliance that’s really dangerous. In all their blood and guts, horrors can still speak the truth.
'That’s not my God'
When my daughter Ruby was small, she was permanently attached to a small toy dinosaur that we christened Derek. Derek …