I rarely remember my dreams beyond remembering the fact that I had a dream. Nightmares are even rarer, because I always realize that I’m having a nightmare pretty early on (usually before anything actually scary happens) and wake myself up.
Still considering the sheer volume of monster movies, slasher flicks, and shudder-and-jump movies I watched as a kid, I must have had some movie-inspired nightmares. My friends and I would have Friday the 13th marathons, where we’d watch all of the movies in a row (except the first two: it’s all about the hockey mask. Also, there were only about five or six movies in the series at the time, so it wasn’t nearly as time-consuming as it sounds.) I remember watching Nightmare on Elm Street at my cousins house and peeing in the sink because we were both too afraid to walk down the long, dark, creaky hallway to the bathroom. I saw the first two Alien movies in the theater, the first when I was all of four years old. And yet, I never had movie-related nightmares. The closest I ever came was years and years later, when I saw The Blair Witch Project, and that night had a creepy, non-sensical dream that featured some imagery from the movie, but none of the story. Particularly the stairwell at the house with all the children’s handprints on the walls.
However, there have been a lot of movies that freaked me right out when I was conscious. Aside from the aforementioned slasher flick memories, I recall watching the original version of Night of the Living Dead alone at home one Halloween night in Highschool. Unbeknownst to me, a couple of my friends came over and, not wanting to ring the front doorbell and wake up my parents, hopped the fence into the back yard to let themselves in. So I’m watching this film, totally engrossed, when all of sudden this ghastly white face presses itself against the window right next to me. I tell you, the doorbell might have woken up my parents, but I woke up the neighbors.
It never gave me bad dreams, but I have never been as frightened by a movie as I was by the first three quarters of Event Horizon. The ending was a major let down, but up to that point, I was seriously wondering if I’d be able to make it through the whole movie.
Lastly, I saw this truly pathetic monster movie about a giant turtle. No, it wasn’t Gammara. It was an American movie, clearly trying to cash in on the success of Jaws, but using, well, a turtle. Not particularly frightening. Or clever. Or well done. But for some reason, the shots of the giant turtle silently crusing in the murky depths of the ocean gave me major heebie-jeebies. Worse, in fact, than Jaws itself.
Oh, and my mom just reminded me that I used to have chronic nightmares about the Wicked Witch of the East when I was really little. Which is weird, because I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that I’ve never seen that movie…
