Our Future: A New Era For the Horror Film?

A month or so ago when I saw "It Comes at Night," I was fairly impressed and pleasantly surprised, seeing as I knew little about the film going in. It delivered a taught, well crafted thrills that relied more on atmosphere and mood than anything else. It didn't seem revolutionary to me, but it also didn't seem like a film that was trying to be. And for that reason, in the coming days as critical responses filled with shock and hyperbolic wonder over the film started to pour in, I was slightly surprised. Slightly is the key word there.

Most of the praise the film has been receiving is not based solely on the film and its merits, but on a perceived larger context that it fits into, this idea that's arisen of the "prestige horror film." That being, a horror film with substance, unlike the rest of the horror films out there. Films like "Get Out," "It Follows," "Green Room," "The Babadook," and so on and so forth. Of course, this relies on the assumption that these films are the cr�me of the crop of a genre that's wallowed in its own mediocrity for the better part of two decades. So I was surprised to see the hyperbolic response to "It Comes at Night," but not very.

"It Comes at Night."

Horror movies have never had a very good reputation, but what small semblance of respectability the film community seemed to hold towards the genre in Carpenter's heyday completely went out the window in the last few decades. For many, the coming of "Paranormal Activity," "Saw," and the countless films that followed in their footsteps served as the final nail in the coffin for the modern horror film. But I think rather than being indicative of any major dip in quality in the genre in recent years, this sort of attitude is a marker of how unfairly the genre has been treated since its inception.

The horror genre hasn't really changed much over the years. Many would like to think it has, but most of the perceived changes I've heard argued are usually more a result of hindsight bias and a lack of exposure than anything. A large chunk of horror films, along with the majority of big budget studio horror films, have always been garbage. Before they were generic found footage films they were generic torture porn films, before that they were generic slasher films, and before that they were generic monster films. There has always been a dedicated core of filmmakers that are able to push the bounds of the genre and create work that is genuinely subversive and horrifying, and the only thing that's varied over the years is the level of exposure these films are given outside of their own communities. Which isn't very much usually, given that most film critics would rather view the genre on its surface.

"Green Room"

In a way, it is surprising and exciting to me how much praise and attention this wave of films have gotten, but to say that we're in the era of the prestige horror film is just a product of the same lazy attitude that the film community has held towards horror films for decades. It's only for this reason that I can assume people are seeing what's occurring as "new."

The 90s through the 2000s typically seem to be regarded as the worst years for the horror genre, and yet there are countless films from those years that are just as well made as what's being put out today. "The Signal" (2007) blended smart, punchy humor with genuine dread just as effectively as "Get Out." The Unrelenting intensity and violence of "Green Room" can just as well be found in "Eden Lake" (2008). The cold, visual experimentation of "Under the Skin" can similarly be found in "Begotten" (1990). "Clean, Shaven" (1993) uses atmosphere and stunning visuals just as effectively as "The Witch." In all these cases, the only difference is the amount of exposure, or rather the lack thereof, of horror films from the previous era.

"The Signal"

At its core, the horror genre has always relied upon lightning in a bottle. It's a style of filmmaking that inherently relies upon evoking an emotional response out of the viewer, a strategy that can just as easily produce schlock as it can deeply affecting experiences. The goal of the lowest brow slasher film is not far off from the aims of many experimental and arthouse filmmakers in fact, where concrete substance is forgone in exchange for evoking an emotional reaction from the viewer through sound and visuals. But when a genre relies primarily upon emotional experience, it can just as easily be dismissed. While I can't help but be annoyed by the notion that we're living in the era of the prestige horror film, I hope that, if anything, it opens people minds to what the genre has always been capable of.

Kyle Mangione-Smith is a filmmaker and student living in Boston.