The recent discussion on J Horror, and its focus on parental betrayal got me to thinking about the broader theme of family based (or at least, family involved) horror. To answer Tim's question: I had in mind here a discussion of instances in which the horror lies in being done wrong by one's own family. I already alluded to what is probably the most salient example in American horror fiction, Jack Torrance's descent into madness and stalking of his wife & son in "The Shining" (both print & film versions).
But clearly, other examples abound. Returning to King for a moment, we learn thru one of Johnny Smith's visions about the torments Frank Dodd's mother inflicts on him, turning him into a serial killer in "The Dead Zone" (the novel). Thomas Harris delves into the childhood abuse that warped the mind of Francis Dolarhyde in the novel version of "Red Dragon". He did the same, albeit with a much lessened impact, IMO, with Hannibal Lecter in "Hannibal" and "Hannibal Rising". It's been years since I've seen either, but IIRC, the killers in the original versions of "Prom Night" and "My Bloody Valentine" were the brothers of the primary target victims. For that matter, so was Michael Myers. And one could argue that Dad returning from the grave to kill off his ungrateful spawn (and get his cake) in "Father's Day" (The Creepshow installment) was made perhaps a little more creepy by virtue of the familial relationship at play there. And who could forget Gage Creed returning from the grave to play with his Mommy & Daddy one last time?
The reason this is such an effective device seems obvious, and was previously mentioned by some who responded to the J Horror thread: family is the core of our interpersonal relationships as human beings. When those closest to us, who are supposed to, by definition, support, love & protect us instead turn on us and try to harm/kill us, it is profoundly horrifying. This effect is magnified, of course, when the person betrayed is a child. Witness, Jack Ketchum's "The Girl Next Door", in both its print & film versions. What happened to Meg would have been horrifying regardless of who did it to her. But wasn't it made that much worse by the fact that Ruth was her Aunt? Children are often powerless (or perceive themselves to be so) in the face of adult authority. That effect is magnified when the adults in question are the victim's family (and most especially a parent or parental figure).
I have gone on at great length about how I feel a current trend in horror is to inject an element of randomness into the victimology. On some level & in some instances, that works. Would a film like "The Strangers" have been enhanced by our learning at the end that the masked intruders were really someone's long lost brother? Certainly not. BUt Laurie Strode learning Michael Myers is her brother, and is hell bent on finishing what he started decades earlier certainly does. She now knows that this supernatural, relentless, remorseles killing machine is tied irrevocably to her, and has a deep seated (albeit warped) reason for trying to kill her. She can't stop being his sister any moe than she can help it.
But consider the possibilities if you turn this model on its head, so to speak and look at the horror of a virtuous protector failing, intentionally or not, to live up to their obligations. "Pet Sematary" is a perfect example, as we witness Doc Creed's failure to protect Gage not once but twice: once when the truck kills him the 1st time, and then again when he realizes to his horror how he's failed Gage by bringing him back, and has to kill him the second time. Or Donna Trenton's being just a little too late to save Tad in the novel version of Cujo. And while not strictly a horror film, I imagine Michael Douglas' character in "Fatal Attraction" is pretty damned horrified to realize his infidelity brought the stalker Glenn Close character's terrible wrath down on his wife & daughter. And her bunny.
Tim asked, as I noted earlier, if this thread would involve a discussion of murderous, horrific families. I chose not to go that route because, IMO, there's really only one way to go with that concept: an isolated family (often inbred) stalks & kills outsiders. Does the fact it's a family doing it enhance anything there? I'd argue that, in & of itself, it doesn't. I suppose one could argue that to some extent ( a very limited one, at that) the fact that EVERYONE the fleeing victim/heroine encounters, even the kindly old Grandman, is in on the family's twisted agenda, can add a shock or two. But really, is Leatherface more terrifying because R. Lee Ermey's his older brother? I don't think so, anyway. But I'd love, as always, to hear argument to the contrary. Post some, or any other thoughts you have on this subject, even if it's only to list an example I omitted and why you feel it works.
But clearly, other examples abound. Returning to King for a moment, we learn thru one of Johnny Smith's visions about the torments Frank Dodd's mother inflicts on him, turning him into a serial killer in "The Dead Zone" (the novel). Thomas Harris delves into the childhood abuse that warped the mind of Francis Dolarhyde in the novel version of "Red Dragon". He did the same, albeit with a much lessened impact, IMO, with Hannibal Lecter in "Hannibal" and "Hannibal Rising". It's been years since I've seen either, but IIRC, the killers in the original versions of "Prom Night" and "My Bloody Valentine" were the brothers of the primary target victims. For that matter, so was Michael Myers. And one could argue that Dad returning from the grave to kill off his ungrateful spawn (and get his cake) in "Father's Day" (The Creepshow installment) was made perhaps a little more creepy by virtue of the familial relationship at play there. And who could forget Gage Creed returning from the grave to play with his Mommy & Daddy one last time?
The reason this is such an effective device seems obvious, and was previously mentioned by some who responded to the J Horror thread: family is the core of our interpersonal relationships as human beings. When those closest to us, who are supposed to, by definition, support, love & protect us instead turn on us and try to harm/kill us, it is profoundly horrifying. This effect is magnified, of course, when the person betrayed is a child. Witness, Jack Ketchum's "The Girl Next Door", in both its print & film versions. What happened to Meg would have been horrifying regardless of who did it to her. But wasn't it made that much worse by the fact that Ruth was her Aunt? Children are often powerless (or perceive themselves to be so) in the face of adult authority. That effect is magnified when the adults in question are the victim's family (and most especially a parent or parental figure).
I have gone on at great length about how I feel a current trend in horror is to inject an element of randomness into the victimology. On some level & in some instances, that works. Would a film like "The Strangers" have been enhanced by our learning at the end that the masked intruders were really someone's long lost brother? Certainly not. BUt Laurie Strode learning Michael Myers is her brother, and is hell bent on finishing what he started decades earlier certainly does. She now knows that this supernatural, relentless, remorseles killing machine is tied irrevocably to her, and has a deep seated (albeit warped) reason for trying to kill her. She can't stop being his sister any moe than she can help it.
But consider the possibilities if you turn this model on its head, so to speak and look at the horror of a virtuous protector failing, intentionally or not, to live up to their obligations. "Pet Sematary" is a perfect example, as we witness Doc Creed's failure to protect Gage not once but twice: once when the truck kills him the 1st time, and then again when he realizes to his horror how he's failed Gage by bringing him back, and has to kill him the second time. Or Donna Trenton's being just a little too late to save Tad in the novel version of Cujo. And while not strictly a horror film, I imagine Michael Douglas' character in "Fatal Attraction" is pretty damned horrified to realize his infidelity brought the stalker Glenn Close character's terrible wrath down on his wife & daughter. And her bunny.
Tim asked, as I noted earlier, if this thread would involve a discussion of murderous, horrific families. I chose not to go that route because, IMO, there's really only one way to go with that concept: an isolated family (often inbred) stalks & kills outsiders. Does the fact it's a family doing it enhance anything there? I'd argue that, in & of itself, it doesn't. I suppose one could argue that to some extent ( a very limited one, at that) the fact that EVERYONE the fleeing victim/heroine encounters, even the kindly old Grandman, is in on the family's twisted agenda, can add a shock or two. But really, is Leatherface more terrifying because R. Lee Ermey's his older brother? I don't think so, anyway. But I'd love, as always, to hear argument to the contrary. Post some, or any other thoughts you have on this subject, even if it's only to list an example I omitted and why you feel it works.
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