I’m not sure if this should go here or in the Cafe, but it’s looking for personal opinions about a genre, so I’m going to post here.
Anyway, when it comes to horror movies/stories/plays, what makes it horrifying? I mean, really scary. We’ve all seen movies that are labeled horror but are really nothing but garbage (Urban Legends comes to mind). Obvioulsy, something is lacking here. They could have the same scene as a classic horror flick like The Shining, yet for some reason, their effect is anything but effective. So what’s your opinion?
I’m planning on writing a little horror script for shits and giggles, and I like to think myself well educated when it comes to horor films and what makes them tick, but there are still times when I’ll see someting that scares the shit out of me, yet a friend will just say “That sucked.” So, I’m just looking for some input so I can avoid making another Mothman Prophecies.
Seriously, though, I have no idea what would scare the largest
margin of people, but the short answer would be to write about what scares you. You know, “write what you know.” I would think the best way to reach others is to make sure it works for you.
It’s a tough question, Elvis, because I think the answer comes down to the subtle matter of tone. Of course horror must involve the element of danger or impending death. The characters are in peril and we, the reader or viewer, share in their extreme fear of losing their life or getting terribly injured. But such descriptions must be handled with care.
I’m not a fiction writer so how one does this, I cannot map for sure. But as someone who’s always enjoyed a good scary story (and someone who reviews books as a fun freelance job) here are some things I can offer – Create situations that are plausible within the parameters you create. Let the hideous slowly build. If you wallop 'em with it, nobody is going to be scared, only amused. Be spare in your adjectives. Simple clarity and strong verbs always are the best route in writing well.
I don’t know if this’ll help you, but: some of the scariest stuff I’ve ever read was written by H. P. Lovecraft. The reason for this, I’m pretty sure, is his writing style.
See, Lovecraft was a master at telling you a great deal about the monster (or whatever), but never actually letting you see it. It’s difficult, but effective. Once you let your audience see the monster, it has limits. It becomes understandable, manageable, comprehendible. But if you can manage to keep that puppy in the shadows, the imagination of the audience gets to roam freely, and they come up with something that scares them personally, something scarier than anything you the author could possibly come up with. In a play format, this will be incredibly difficult to pull off.
As for why dreck like Urban Legends is classified as horror: well, a few decades ago, slashers used to be scary. When the slasher genre was new, people hadn’t seen much of homicidal maniacs lurking about in shadows and killing people, and death was something to fear in itself. Now, of course, we’re all hardened and cynical, and someone getting stabbed doesn’t shock us near as much.
As I classify horror movies, there are three sub-genres, and of those, slashers are the most prominent because they’re the easiest to make. All you need is a gimmick (“I know! The killer uses a nail gun!”), some untalented actors, and a few gallons of stage blood. The other two are harder, because you need a strong story and good actors to make a good “creeper” (one that just gives you chills and creeping dread), and you need a cool monster and good special effects to make a good “creature” (one that hinges on some beastie, like zombies or walking hands or mutant babies or bats or rats or spiders or sharks or snakes or komodo dragons or birds or vampires or werewolves or worms or piranhas or octopi or cats or dogs or mosquitos or ticks or leeches or shrews). So, we get Valentine and Urban Legends: Final Cut instead.
(coding fixed – Uke)
I am a huge horror novel fan. I am not a writer, though I have a few ideas, but I think there are a couple things that make a Horror novel-movie-play work.
First is the feel for the story. The ambeance (SP?). The setting can really influence how the characters interactions come across. For example, Straub’s ‘Ghost Story’ takes place, for the most part, in a drawing room with old men telling stories. Straub sets this up with the line ‘What is the worst thing you ever did’ or something like that. It sets a very creepy mood.
Second, character empathy. King is the master of character empathy. King, when he is good, has the reader so into the characters in the book that when something bad happens you just have to feel it yourself. The best example of this I can think of is ‘Misery’. Both the book and the movie. I know a lot of people think King is a hack, and he is at times, but when he is on his is great.
Third, images. PinHead from Barker’s ‘Hell Raiser’ or Pennywise from King’s ‘IT’. Enough said.
Fourth, understanding the bad guys-gals-evil monster things point of view. For example, Hannibal Lector. You get to know him, understand him on a level, and find it sick yet understandable. It’s distrurbing to think we can relate to these monsters.
Tapping into our universal fears is always horrifying. Ya can’t go too wrong mixing in a lot of dark and a lot of death. Sensory deprivation is always good, especially limiting our all-important sense of sight. But overloading or short-circuiting hearing is also useful; you know, the “What the Hell is THAT?!?” effect caused by a creepy but unidentifiable sound.
As was mentioned above, what scares you personally can often be a great compass; and you’ll never hit everyone’s wavelength equally, anyway. If it falls into the “Man, there’s no way I’d want that to happen to me!” category, then it’s a safe bet you’re on the right track.
In an astoundingly clever allusion to this board, Ignorance can be frightening in many contexts. Not knowing where you are or how you got there, not knowing what’s around the corner, not knowing what’s making that dragging sound in the deserted attic, not knowing what the obvious lunatic will do next, not knowing if anyone will be able to hear you pounding on the coffin lid and realize you were buried alive in time to rescue you, etc. Predictability is the foundation of psychological security; and if you can take that away, you’ve gone a good distance in the right direction.
Thought I’d chime in with something different: in the audio-visual media, sound and music maketh the horror horrifying.
Try watching a horror movie with the sound muted (I do it all the time - I’m such a big wuss :)). What would be a tenseful, gripping scene is reduced to documentary.
Watching with sound, even though I may objectively realise that a scene is only frightening because of the ominously building pace of the music; the amplified breathing of the victim; or the sudden explosion of noise at an unexpected event, it’s difficult to not to touched by the horror. Music and sound is that powerful.
Without sound: character walks into room - turns around - reacts with startlement as she is confronted by her boyfriend, someone she thought was dead.
With sound: character enters room, footsteps echoing. She turns warily, and SCREAMS AT THE SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF HER DEAD BOYFRIEND! THE GRISLY UNDEAD CORPSE SNARLS AT HER! Ahhhh!
allusion to this board, Ignorance can be frightening in many contexts. Not knowing where you are or how you got there, not knowing what’s around the corner, not knowing what’s making that dragging sound in the deserted attic, not knowing what the obvious lunatic will do next, not knowing if anyone will be able to hear you pounding on the coffin lid and realize you were buried alive in time to rescue you, etc. Predictability is the foundation of psychological security; and if you can take that away, you’ve gone a good distance in the right direction.