Numb to the Nightmare: Why Modern Horror Needs to Focus on Psychological Depth Over Jumpscares
One of the first movies I ever recall watching was Final Destination with my cousin at
2:00 a.m. when I was a mere five-year-old. That experience has probably altered my brain chemistry for years to come. There was always a gravitation I had to the horror genre my whole upbringing, I couldn’t tell you what 12 times 7 was but I could probably tell you the whole Frankenstein lore verbatim. This is what made my recent aversion to horror all the more daunting. I was not getting the same shrill reactions I used to get as a kid anymore. I had become immune to horror.
Now, I have affirmed this with my other ex-horror fanatics, and have concluded that I am not alone in feeling this way. The reason is the easiest to blame; the film industry! Like what every other “film bro” would like to tell you, accompanied with a sigh that will echo through a room for generations; they just don’t make movies the same way as they used to before; this applies to the horror genre too. Try to think of the first movie that truly shook you to your core, and analyse what aspect of it elicited such a reaction inside us. Filmmakers are always on the hunt for new ways to keep unsettling their audiences, however recently they are getting increasingly repetitive and overly reliant on the cheap method of jumpscares because that is the easiest way to do this.
So why are jumpscares bad? Well, they don’t have to be, they are usually pretty well received if done well. But the basic formula is the same for all, so if you experience it once, you kind of get the gist and it loses its effectiveness. The act relies on triggering your basic fight or flight response by showcasing an unexpected, sudden visual combined with a loud noise. Our brains are designed to become accustomed to a particular type of situation when we encounter it frequently, possibly why my routine presentation assignments made me lose all signs of my stage fright. It is the brain’s way of adapting to stimuli, filtering out the shock factor, and ultimately lessening the emotional impact. Since we merely felt a brief shock rather than a persistent terror, we exit the theatre unconcerned. This is especially frustrating as that is the essence of horror in the first place. What's the point of watching a horror movie if you don't stay up for nights on end, filled to the brim with dread and uncertainty?
So what is the solution for this? Certainly, not all modern horror movies are bad, creativity is not that limited. This urge to fulfil my childhood anticipations led me to discover the genre of psychological horror and it changed how I view media, as a whole. Psychological horror appeals to more nuanced, individualised, and ageless fears. Instead of concentrating on what immediately catches our attention, psychological terror forces us to face concerns that are more difficult to shake off. So, how do they work? These films steadily increase the tension, engrossing the viewer in a narrative where dread is more about the imagination than what is seen. Psychological horror raises questions about the unknown by generating ambiguity, such as what is beyond human comprehension, what lurks in the deepest corners of the mind, or what poses a threat to our sense of self. It does this by working through subtle cues; focusing on the atmosphere, symbolism and human vulnerability instead of sound effects and a giant monster.
According to research on how the brain reacts to fear, the amygdala, the brain's fear-processing region, is significantly stimulated by anticipatory fear, or fear that develops gradually and has no apparent cause. In contrast to short-lived frights, anticipatory terror stimulates the parts of our minds that deal with solving problems as we attempt to predict what might occur next. As we try to understand intricate situations and reasons, this type of horror necessitates active participation from both the emotional and cognitive parts of the brain.
Throughout a typical psychological horror scene, the audience's dread increases. As the brain tries to "solve" the story's problems, frequently without a conclusive answer, the terror intensifies rather than subsides after the shock is gone. This ambiguity latches onto us and reflects our sheer helplessness nature of real-life scenarios. Psychological horror is unique in its structure by putting you in the protagonist’s position. We connect with their loneliness, and paranoia, feeling the terror as if it were our own, and that is when our thoughts can frighten us more than the movie itself.
The appeal of psychological horror is that it doesn't need lavish productions, elaborate effects, or copious amounts of blood and gore. Instead, it uses atmosphere, character growth, and narrative to give viewers a deeper, more introspective experience. Psychologist Svein Åge Kjøs Johnsen states; “By watching horror films one can have a sense of control over both their situation or the viewing experience and over the feeling of fear, and may also function as a distraction from other feelings.” Psychological horror appeals to a contemporary audience that seeks more than fleeting thrills, they watch it to calm their nerves, garnering an opposite reaction to what is to be expected. Think about the persistent appeal of horror films that make us face our anxieties or doubt reality. Movies like this strike a chord because they realistically address societal issues, worries of betrayal, and a sense of losing control.
Another concern surrounding habituation is how our responses to gore and violence are not just restricted to onscreen fears but have concerning effects on how we view reality as well. Research shows frequent exposure to graphic and frightening media can cause emotional numbness in kids, which reduces their sympathising capabilities with those who are distressed.
Our capacity to recognise and react to real danger may be weakened over time by this practice of simulating fear, which could have an effect on social relationships and other people's emotional sensitivity to distress. However, some studies prove the contrary, community violence decreased comparatively in the early and late 1900s despite violent films, according to a 2014 study. Proving there is no significant correlation between increasing crime rates and violence in the media.
However, these concerns need to still be addressed in mindful interventions, this could entail striking a balance between realistic, upbeat, and positive material; and horror and gory media. Media literacy programs can be beneficial by learning how to evaluate and comprehend the psychological impacts of various kinds of content. Also, from personal experience, scheduling regular pauses from horror media consumption can help the brain rebalance and preserve a healthy reaction to feelings and events that occur in real life.
In conclusion, a return to psychological horror could reinterpret the genre's function by transforming it into one that promotes empathy and introspection in addition to entertainment. Psychological horror can leave a lasting emotional impression by subtly evoking fear that reflects fears in real life. Giving horror psychological depth could improve the genre's aesthetic and emotional appeal while also encouraging more conscientious and healthful media consumption practices. Psychological horror creates a balanced media that can continue to engage and challenge viewers in ways that go beyond the simple shock value and have an impact long after the credits have rolled.
References:
Cantor, J. (2009). Frankenstein and Miss America: How horror movies, news, and reality TV affect children’s minds. Media Psychology, 11(3), 395–416. https://doi.org/10.1080/15213260902960971
Carnagey, N. L., Anderson, C. A., & Bushman, B. J. (2007). The effect of video game violence on physiological desensitisation to real-life violence. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 43(3), 489–496. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jesp.2006.05.003
Mobbs, D., Hagan, C. C., Dalgleish, T., Silston, B., & Prévost, C. (2015). The ecology of human fear: Survival optimization and the nervous system. Frontiers in Neuroscience, 9, 55. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnins.2015.00055
Fitzgerald, K. D., & Rosenberg, D. R. (2018). Anxiety and the developing brain: How childhood fear of the unknown translates to adult anxiety. Psychiatry Research, 272, 1–6.https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psychres.2018.12.003
Clover, C. J. (1992). Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. Princeton University Press.
Carroll, N. (1990). The Philosophy of Horror, or Paradoxes of the Heart. Routledge.
Spratford, B. A. (2017). The Readers’ Advisory Guide to Horror. American Library Association.
Anderson, C. A., & Dill, K. E. (2000). Video games and aggressive thoughts, feelings, and behaviour in the laboratory and life. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 78(4), 772–790. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.78.4.772
Bushman, B. J., & Huesmann, L. R. (2006). Short-term and long-term effects of violent media on aggression in children and adults. Archives of Pediatrics & Adolescent Medicine, 160(4), 348–352. https://doi.org/10.1001/archpedi.160.4.348
About the author:
Nausheen Haque
Subhead of the Psycreative Column
First-year, B.Sc. Applied Psychology student, JDSOLA, NMIMS
Nausheen is a reader, eater, outfit repeater, overzealous tweeter and explorer of esoteric rabbit holes. She loves film, and photography and enjoys wearing Crocs during all seasons. A romanticist whose favourite movie is In the Mood for Love by Wong Kar Wai, Nausheen describes herself as Tony Soprano if he had a little Carrie Bradshaw about him. This geek also wants to be a future clinical psychologist and author someday.
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