Well, we've pulled through that time of year again. Orange and black, skeletons and ghouls, scary movies, candy, and endless commercials that are just beginning to be replaced by Christmas commercials, and I just keep muting them all. Especially since this year Halloween coincided with election year and it's up to you to decide which was scarier.
Of course all the Halloween decorations are still up, while all the Christmas decorations are taking over the earth...
Meanwhile, I don't like Halloween, because I don't like being scared. A few reasons:
I was introduced to fear and pain very early. When I arrived in this country, I had a very, very, very bad (cigarette?) burn on my chest, and 69 years later the physical scar of it is still there: faint, but it's still there.
My mother loved scary movies and watched all the ones shown on TV and took me to all the movies, despite the fact that they scared me so bad I couldn't sleep. (I didn't mind the Dracula movies - Bela Lugosi seemed kind of ridiculous, if not downright funny, to me... Make of that what you will.) I remember she and I went to see "Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte" (1964, I was eleven), with Bette Davis, Olivia de Haviland, Mary Astor, Agnes Moorehead, and Joseph Cotton in what seemed like an attempt by everyone to kill everyone else, or at least drive them insane.
There's a scene involving a backseat that kept me horrified all the way home, as well as a few scenes involving a severed hand, and that night, as I was trying to get to sleep, the little dog jumped up on my bed and I woke EVERYONE up screaming my head off.
My father, on the other hand, took me to all of the sci-fi movies that came out, including Barbarella ("We won't tell your mother about this one," he said, as I ate popcorn to Barbarella stripping in the airlock) and 2001 A Space Odyssey, which made my much later forays into hallucinogens seem ... familiar, and wondering when the Star Child was going to show up.
Then there's two years of living on the streets of L.A., where predators abounded, in uniform and out.
Anyway once I became an adult and was able to live the life I wanted to live, I almost never went to scary movies. Here's my list of exceptions:
The Haunting - Julie Harris and Claire Bloom together made this in my top five of scariest movies ever made, but the acting was so great that I still don't regret having seen it.
Alien - I avoided opening closets at night for a while. But damn, Sigourney Weaver was GREAT.
The Shining - Stanley Kubrick, Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, Scatman Crothers... Mm-hmm... Love the photograph on the wall.
Bubba Ho-Tep - Any movie with a black JFK (Ossie Davis), an old Elvis (Bruce Campbell), and an ancient mummy, set in a nursing home has to be seen at least once. And it has its hilarious moments, as well as the ones which make me look elsewhere for a bit.
Anyway, what I really wish America would celebrate is Samhain:
SAMHAIN
It's pronounced SOW (as in cow)-in, a/k/a November in Gaelic. The early literature (from the 9th century) says Samhain was marked by great gatherings and feasts; a time when the ancient burial mounds were opened, the portals to the Otherworld. Some of the medieval tales also associate Samhain with bonfires and sacrifice. There was dancing. Prayers. Offerings.





Samhain— I learned more in ten minutes with your post than my accumulated knowledge of a lifetime.
ReplyDeleteGood God, Eve. Your early life terrifies me. May Alan have an endless supply of hugs and comfort.
ReplyDeleteI haven't seen most of the movies you mention except Alien, which I really liked. I like, for example, Silence of the Lambs, but not traditional horror films (That's what I admired about Fran's clever story, it wasn't scary.) The Exorcist did nothing for me.
As mentioned previously, my friend Crystal Mary loves slasher films. I went once with her and will never again. I got ill, she got giddy. They change her chemistry, they rewire her brain. She flushes and her eyes brighten… I can't explain it.
The scariest movie I remember was Night of the Living Dead. Greenwich Village, student days, black & white, $1 theatre, weekend exam relief, just me, midnight showing. Not so scary while watching it, although I mourned the death of the black kid. It came an hour later, in bed. One eye opens. Did I hear something? Nah. Close eye. Wait, did I lock the door? I get up to check. Yes, locked, like usual. Almost asleep when noise sounds in… kitchen? Get up, check. Back to pillow. A click like my door latch. I check. This went on for a bloody week.
Leigh, that is EXACTLY why I avoid most horror movies, except for my chosen list. They stick to your mind for too long, and you don't get a good night's sleep. Plus, real life can be frightening enough - or more than enough. (Thanks for the cyberhug.)
DeleteEve, I'm with you taken to an extreme. I hate horror movies or books, and I don't even like thrillers anymore. I think when you've seen hell, you never want to revisit anything that reminds you of it. (Hell for me was witnessing the person I loved the most die in horrible pain for weeks, and there was nothing I could do about it.) Despair would be the word. I don't want to read about despair.
ReplyDeleteAnd I love your line! " like what happens when you are perfectly still and the birds and beasts take you for part of the world."
Crap! That was me above - Melodie
ReplyDeleteThanks, Melodie! Yes, despair is another thing I try to avoid - which is why I don't read much Scandinavian noir: it's so dark there's no hope.
DeleteI don't like horror anything. Books, films, you name it, for the simple reason that...it scares me. But then, every now and then, something comes along that is not billed that way precisely, and I watch/read it, and I'm fine. Horror in the mind always worse than horror in the flesh. Oh—did you grow up overseas, Eve?
ReplyDeleteJoseph, No, but I was born in Greece, placed in the Athens orphanage, and was shipped across to my adoptive parents in America when I was about 3 years old.
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