Dead or Alive? The Horror of the Horror Genre

What scares you? This is the question that the horror genre has been trying desperately to answer and exploit since the 20s (and many would argue before). In the last twenty years alone, the average horror grossed $19,048,963 which is around two and a half times the amount of the average drama - the genre with the most films produced each year.1 So, considering that on average horrors earn more than dramas, comedies, and rom-coms, why is the horror genre victim to constant sequels, spin offs, and re-makes?  Looking back over the last twenty years again,  of the top grossing horror films each year, eleven are sequels or prequels, two are spin offs, and two are English language remakes.  Apart from the Twilight franchise, the drama genre has none of the above. Is there no originality left in horror? Do people only want to see Freddy invade more dreams, or more paranormal activity? What makes a good horror film and is that different to a successful one?

The Paranormal Activity films held the top spot of the
 horror box office for four years from 2009 until 2012

A while ago I examined a similar question focusing on the comedy genre, begging the argument between comedy and quality. Like that debate, with horror, not only is there a question of quality and 'scariness', but also of box office success. Paranormal Activity 4, for example, topped the horror box office, just like its three predecessors,  but was a critical failure. And, unlike the third and first instalments of the franchise, was lacking in a scare factor.2 A quick Google search for 'Best Horror Films' will immediately treat you to the 'Best' horror films, the 'Scariest' horror films, and the 'Creepiest' horror films. What's the difference, if there is one? Is the best horror film the scariest, the one that does best at the box office, the one the critics love the most, or the creepiest? The answer seems to be none of them.

Like comedy, fear is subjective. George A. Romero, father of the zombie genre and all round horror genius, says: ‘I don’t know why we love these movies so much. It must be an involuntary response. Why does a joke make you laugh? It’s the same thing with a scare.’3 Returning to the original question of this article, horror aims to scare you. What scares you is different to what scares me; what scares this generation is different to what scared the last. Look at the trends in horror films over the decades: nuclear and cold war fears in the 50s and 60s, 'Hyperpostmodernism'4 in the current age. Horror tries to capture the current anxieties of the time, but without a single universal fear today - as Tyler Durden so brilliantly put it 'We have no great war. No great depression'5 - the horror genre has to try grab any zeitgeist it can get its hands on.

Saw's success saw its sequels top the
horror box office in 2005, 2006, and 2008.

Without a universal fear to capitalise on, the most successful horrors of the 21st century have been those that will still manage to scare the majority. The Paranormal Activity films show things going bump in the night, using unexpected jump scares to keep its audience on edge, whilst the Saw franchise simply made their sequels so bloody that most movie-goers would have to watch through their fingers. But are these just cheap thrills designed to appeal to the sofa-dwelling adrenaline junkie? As Ben Wheatley (director of the fantastic A Field in England) says 'With horror you want to feel afraid, because you can do it without consequences.'6  Do these films actually make us afraid, or do they just make us jump and feel squeamish? Is there no more building suspense to an exasperating climax, no more looming dread? Just think, how many jump scares did 'King of Horror' Alfred Hitchcock use per film?

Hitchcock describes it better than I can; tension causes the audience to engage emotionally whilst jump scares cause a brief rush of adrenaline. Often, and this is particularly evident in the Paranormal Activity sequels, the innovation of jump scares takes priority over creating a solid narrative for a film which leaves the audience little to connect with. Perhaps this is where horror has fallen down; it sacrifices structure for scares. Even in Ancient Greece, Aristotle's Poetics lists plot and character as the most important aspects of tragic storytelling, yet rates spectacle as the least important. In horror, isolated moments of fear followed by dialogue-heavy stretches with undeveloped characters may make us scream embarrassingly loudly in the cinema, but how often do we leave appreciating the whole film rather than the spectacular moment? Or is this the 'Post-Human Era' of film that Richard Corliss spoke about where the set pieces matter more than the script?7

Oculus entered the box-office at number 3 but
dropped out of the top 10 in under two weeks.

But this box-office topping era of Post-Humanist film making has not taken its toll on all films in the genre. Every year hosts of narrative and character driven horrors are released but are often independently funded, meaning they get a limited release. Without a star or gimmick (i.e. 'Based on a true story') to attach to their marketing, the films go undetected by the masses. See, for example, the recent films The Babadook or It Follows which have received critical acclaim and high recommendation. Of course, that recommendation is only good if you are lucky enough to find somewhere showing it. But even the mainstream suffers from lack of exposure. Look at 2013's Oculus, which managed to have Karen Gillan (pre-Guardians of the Galaxy) as the lead. But despite the film's strong psychological fear factor and positive reviews, the film was forgotten about almost instantly. Perhaps a Doctor Who star does not a Hollywood star make. With no star to advertise with, the film had trouble filling the seats of the cinema. Is a horror's success based on how marketable it is? In which case we come back to money.

Australian horror The Babadook took the critics by storm.

The Babadook grossed less than $5,000,0008 worldwide and yet has racked up a 98% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and a fantastic 86 on Metacritic. To compare, we can look at some of the better marketed films which turned into box office success. For example, James Wan's films Insidious, Insidious: Chapter 2, (both produced by Oren Peli of Paranormal Activity) and The Conjuring all use his success with Saw in their marketing. Insidious can even claim to be by the creators of Saw and Paranormal Activity while The Conjuring can use Insidious' success too. Not to mention that all of these films had star leads (like the Oscar nominated Vera Farmiga and Barbara Hershey, as well as Golden Globe nominee Patrick Wilson). The difference between Babadook and Conjuring? Somewhere in the region of $310,000,0009 in worldwide grossing.

Of course, The Conjuring was a genuinely good film (as was the first act of Insidious before it drifted into a strange limbo-type realm) and deserved its financial gain. Its success promoted its critically slammed spin-off, Annabelle to the top of 2014's horror box office. So if marketing can explain the box-office trends, we have finally gathered evidence to prove something. That you need to spend money to make money. And that is what these countless sequels have: money. Whilst The Babadook is a better film than both The Conjuring and Insidious, you probably just never got the chance to see it. So has the horror genre lost its variety and quality? Is it doomed to forever be subject to sequels, remakes, and spin-offs? No, that is just what makes money. The horror genre is still alive and well and as varied as ever. For every blockbuster horror hit that gains a list of sequels, there will be several original and excellent pieces of horror cinema out there to scare yourself with.

From Saw to The Conjuring, James Wan's
creations continue to dominate the horror box office.

If a successful horror is to do with subjective fear, then this ultimate question of 'What makes a good horror?' cannot be answered. But rather than despair at the state of the horror genre, film fans should become pro-active in finding films that scare them. To bring back what Wheatley said, horror allows us to be scared free of consequence. If it is blood and gore that scares you, perhaps try Martyrs over Saw V. If you like psychological horror or films that play with your mind, maybe A Field in England would suit you. Or do you like satire? If so, you have Cabin in the Woods, You're Next, or the hilarious Tucker and Dale vs Evil. Maybe you prefer an even more niche market and you want found-footage satire with genuine scares. Try Grave Encounters. All of these films are from the last five years and are a small selection of what is out there.

But what scares you? Are you still in despair over horror films? Or do you just want a recommendation that will suit your particular set of phobias and fears. Leave a comment below and, in the words of Mike Enslin, 'Stay scared!'10


Some references:

1: Statistics from: http://www.the-numbers.com/market/genres
2: Read what I thought here: http://philspointlessblog.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/paranormal-actrilogy.html
3: Quoted in: http://www.timeout.com/london/film/why-do-we-love-scary-movies?package_page=44205
4: Wee, V (2005) ‘The Scream Trilogy, "Hyperpostmodernism," and the Late-Nineties Teen Slasher Film.’ Journal of Film and Video Volume 57 (Issue 3): Pages 44-61
5: Fight Club (1999) Directed by: David Fincher
6: Quoted in: http://www.timeout.com/london/film/why-do-we-love-scary-movies?package_page=44205
7: Corliss, R (2011) http://time.com/3833900/fast-five-movie-review/
8: Statistics from: http://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=babadook.htm
9: Statistics from: http://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=conjuring.htm
10: 1408 (2007) Directed by: Mikael Håfström

Follow Phil on Twitter: https://twitter.com/philrowlandson

Comedy Special: Bo Burnham And The Battle Of Art VS Comedy

A little while ago, I wrote a special feature on comedies for an online magazine called Splendid Fred. It focused on why comedy films are not considered good films - why jokes are not considered art. Obviously, I am not the only one who has been involved in the art versus comedy argument but I feel like a recent creation brings the two together in a glorious collision of music and laughs. That creation is Bo Burnham's recent stand up show, what. (Available in full on Youtube and Netflix) But this is not the first time Bo has proved himself a master of art and comedy.

Bo started on Youtube with songs such as 'My Whole Family' and '3.14 Apple Pi' in 2006. He then went on to release an EP entitled 'Bo Fo Sho' in 2008, followed by a full length album, 'Bo Burnham', in 2009. From there, it was strength to strength for Burnham as he filmed his own Comedy Central, had small roles in films such as American Virgin and Funny People, released his own live special and album, Words, Words, Words, and secured a TV deal with MTV to air in 2013. This TV series turned out to be the horribly underrated and prematurely cancelled Zach Stone Is Gonna Be Famous, a show that I personally recommend. Despite Zach Stone's cancellation, Bo stayed strong and wrote a poetry book called Egghead: Or, You Can't Survive On Ideas Alone. Most recently, Bo toured with his new show, what., which he then released, for free, online.

Bo's success is undoubtedly thanks to his universal, but ultimately niche, appeal.  This is an oxymoron, a paradox of demographic. His jokes are sometimes as mainstream as they come but they are always, always, layered with heaps of intellect and it is this that pigeon holes him. It is this reason that Zach Stone did not strike well with the contemporary audience that Bo's dick jokes go so well with. The crude side of his jokes, even without the layering of intelligence, still have a basic comedy value but as Burnham has moved forward, he has developed his style so that the crude jokes are now the side bit, the superficial top layer. His social commentary that the jokes cover has moved more into the foreground and his clever wit and performance style has highlighted the satirical nature of his work. But this mainstream/niche appeal leaves him in a perfect position to create a discourse (or blend) between 'art' and comedy.

Words, Words, Words was Bo tipping his toes into the world of the battle of art and comedy. The majority of the show was a combination of clever gags and his usual subversive music, both delving more into the world of politics and social commentary. However, there are two songs that stand out in this debate: 'What's Funny' and ' Art Is Dead'. Their titles even spotlight their insight into the argument. The former simply parodies how easy it is to create comedy and why such simple things are funny, while the latter suggests that it is exactly this attitude that has killed art. He points out that comedians are just the kids who wanted attention and are now being paid to do just that, and can call themselves artists because of it. But this is where Bo is so clever: he is using an art form to criticise the nature of art itself , he uses comedy to point out how easy it is. This meta-comedy routine makes us question our own thoughts on the subject, brings the debate into full-view, and provides a paradoxical answer. This is where what. comes in.

what. is almost a full fledged dedication to art versus comedy. There is still his normal subversive songs and his could-be offensive brand of jokes, but from the very opening of the show he is commenting on the nature of 'art'. After a bit in which he sings about his natural voice whilst heavily auto-tuned, he knocks a bottle of water over followed promptly by a track that says, 'he meant to knock the water over ... art is a lie, nothing is real'. He then goes on to prove that 'art' is a lie with a, crudely beautiful, poem entitled 'I Fuck Sluts'. A masterfully constructed piece of spoken word, an indisputable art form, comically written with highly misogynistic language, the contrast of which brings the humour. It is not the only time that Bo uses this form in what. as he returns to poetry later on to continue what he started in 'I Fuck Sluts' - to completely juxtapose the art form he uses, a lot like 'Art Is Dead' from Words, Words, Words.

But the peak of the debate comes in the form of a skit that, in audio alone sounds like a piece of art, but in visuals alone looks like a very crude, and tasteless, joke. The song is very bluntly titled 'Beating Off In A Minor', which Bo clarifies as the key and not the felony. The music is a delightful, joyous piece of music consisting of a flute, piano, and violin before turning into electric rock, and then after a pause turns to a haunting, harsh keyboard. On stage, we see Bo mime typing on a computer, before seeming content and pulling his trousers down, and the joke becomes clear. To the electro-rock, Bo masturbates furiously, to the haunting track, Bo shamefully washes his hands of his deed. Masturbation jokes are, arguably, one of the lowest forms of comedy but Burnham turns it entirely on its head by combining it with a well composed segment of music creating an intriguing piece of performance. Is it art or is it crass? Or is it both - is comedy art? Who would have thought a young man mime-masturbating would raise such questions?

Finally in what., is 'Repeat Stuff' and 'We Think We Know You', two songs which point out the fickle nature of the music industry, supposedly an industry of art. 'Repeat Stuff' is a song about the production and creation of pop hits, the idea that they must appeal to everyone and be immediately memorable leading the art within to suffer. 'We Think We Know You' carries this on with a conversation between Bo and three others, an agent, a bimbo, and a jock. The bimbo and jock highlight that change that fame can bring, both socially and within the self, whilst the agent shows the corrupting influence the industry can have on the content and quality of art. 'We Think We Know You' ends with Bo remixing the voices, adding a layer of synth and drums, until the audience are completely absorbed into a musical trance. Art made out of the commentary of art - how much more meta can you get?

So in the argument of art versus comedy, or comedy versus quality, Bo Burnham excels in contrasting the two to raise the point, the same point I raised in my last feature on the topic: why can comedy not be considered art or quality? Bo simply answers it can be. He plays with people's expectations of art and makes it hilarious. The majority of Bo Burnham's work can be found on his Youtube, and it is highly recommended by myself and critics alike. what. is available on Netflix and Youtube worldwide and Words, Words, Words is available on UK Netflix or to buy.

Cats And Dogs: Phil's Favourite Disney Film

Disney have made a lot of animated features over the years, Tangled being the 50th. But for me, the 27th of those holds a special importance. I almost jumped for joy when I came home to find it on Sky Disney last night. It is a film that this humble blogger watched relentlessly as a young lad and still finds it to be the Disney film he most connects with. Allow me, if you will, to tell you why you should love Oliver & Company and
why it means so much to me.

If you are not aware of Oliver & Company and have not seen it, let me quickly inform you of what it is about. It is Disney's adaptation of the famous tale of Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. A young cat, voiced by Joseph Lawrence, is left in a box on the street with several other kittens with a sign saying they need a new home. Oliver is the only kitten to not get chosen and is left on his own in New York City in the rain. He starts trying to live independently and comes across a dog known as Dodger (Billy Joel) who takes him under his paw. Dodger brings the cat back to his gang of dogs, Rita, Francis, Tito, and Einstein, and their master Fagin, and they begin to break him into the crew. On the first job, the unnamed cat gets stuck in a limo in which a young girl, Jenny, promises to take care of him. She names him Oliver and they become the best of friends, much to Jenny's dog, Georgette's, displeasure. Fagin wants the cat to help him get money that he desperately needs to save his life, but will Jenny's love for Oliver change everything?

And with that, their friendship was cemented.

So why do I love this film? Aside from watching it a hundred times in my early youth (it was one of the only videos my Grandmother owned) and the psychological reasoning that goes with association to good memories, there is firstly one very simple reason: it looks and sounds fantastic. Oliver & Company is classic 2D animation at some of its finest. You can see, particularly on Francis, the sketch lines on the characters and this, combined with the painted opening credits, creates an ambience of home made film; the idea that love and dedication went into making the movie rather than money, which is important considering that Fagin is a character that has no money, but still shows how happy one an be with love (in his case, his love for his dogs). But what really makes Oliver & Company is the songs. If you have a moment, they can all be listened to right here. 'Why Should I Worry', a story of being care free and happy with what you have got, sung beautifully and powerfully by Joel. 'Good Company' one of the most adorable songs in any film ever, in which Jenny sings about her friendship with Oliver. 'Once Upon A Time In New York City', a beautiful and slightly heartbreaking introduction into Oliver's world performed wonderfully by Huey Lewis and the News. These songs are light and catchy but each hold a strong message individually. The same cannot be said for 'Perfect Isn't Easy', but that is always intended to demonstrate a character that the audience are not meant to particularly like.

I am not attracted to a cartoon dog I am not attracted to a cartoon dog
I am not attracted to a cartoon dog I am not attracted to a cartoon dog

But pretty animation and jamming songs are not really enough to make a film last in your heart, so what does it for Oliver & Company? For me, it is the message. Look at Oliver. He is a kid, lost in a city he does not understand. Everyone around him is bigger and scarier. All his friends, his brothers and sisters, have gone. They've left for caring homes and loving families. Oliver has nothing. But he does not give up. He fights for food and then when Dodger appears and steals his food, he fights to get it back. When huge mean Rottweilers attack Fagin's gang, Oliver fights back. When Oliver is in danger, the gang risk everything and go after him. When Jenny is in danger, the gang risk everything and go after her. When the gang are in danger, Fagin risks everything and goes after them. When Fagin's life is in danger because he cannot pay loan shark/ mob boss, Sykes, and his only way to get money is to ransom Oliver, he sacrifices that only chance at saving his life to make Jenny happy. The gang of outcasts stay together. Friendship prevails. It may come as a surprise to some of you, it may not, that I was short of friends as a youngster. I was an outcast. I did not like football or sports, I preferred to stand up against my bullies rather than roll over for them, if my friends were being bullied, I'd do what I could to help them. It led to me getting in fights where I did not fight back. I saw a lot of myself in Oliver, and that gave me hope.

Oliver had his ups and downs but in the end, friendship made it all worthwhile. The baddies, the bullies, come to an (extremely brutal) end. There is no doubt in my mind that a lot of my readers have felt isolated and alienated in their days. That they have felt overwhelmed or lost. That they have been against bigger and stronger opinions and felt hopeless. Oliver & Company is the Disney film that creates a host of characters that emulate these feelings but also shows them fighting it. If a kitten can fight off a Rottweiler, why can't I fight off a bully? If a gang of outcast dogs can take down a mob boss, why can't I finish my assignment? No matter what your issues you have to overcome, take a lesson from Oliver and Fagin's gang. Nothing is impossible so stay strong. Stay powerful. I mean, Why Should We Worry?