Devil (2010)

SPOILERS!!

First of all, I have to express my extreme fangirl joy (squeal) at all the good horror movies that have been released in the past year or two. While many people have lamented Hollywood’s latest penchant for recreating and recycling old movie plots in the forms of remakes and sequels/prequels (though I must insert here that not all remakes are inherently bad—last year’s My Bloody Valentine 3D was a lot of fun to see in the theater), the horror movie has seemed to be a breath of fresh air in stale movie scripts and familiar direction. Paranormal Activity was a good, scary movie that reminded readers that not a lot is needed for something to be frightening. All most people really need is something to go bump in the night and we will wet our pants. (I am the perfect example of this. Last night, I dropped something under the bed and I hesitated for just a moment before reaching my hand under the bed into the dark space. Why? I don’t know. I guess somewhere deep inside my inner five year old still believes there might be a monster under there just waiting to grab me by the hand and pull me under.)

M. Night Shyamalan’s latest story Devil preys upon these exact fears. The movie follows all the classic rules of a good scary tale. 

·         Number One: Less is always more. So many films have been ruined by showing the monster. Imagination is always worse than whatever a special effects team can create. Devil director John Erick Dowdle is a master of this. His movie Quarantine (2008) builds suspense by timing moments of darkness just at the time the monsters are hunting. The audience only gets glimpses of what is actually there, instead having to rely on sound to try and piece together what is happening on screen. Dowdle brought this same technique to his newest movie, and the result was some truly terrifying moments. 

·         Number Two: Claustrophobia is essential to a good setting. The Shining is a great example. Isolated in an old hotel with no one around but your creepy son and psychotic husband plus a snowstorm that has wiped out any connection to the outside world equals true terror. In our world of ever increasing technology, we have the world (literally) at our fingertips. We can reach anyone anywhere through telephones, email, text messages, Skype. With that connectivity, we have a false sense of security. If something bad might happen, we can always call for help. Isn’t that the main reason we all use for giving children cell phones? Little Jimmy might need to call me when he is away from home. A movie set in an elevator where no one can get in or out AND the cellular signal is jammed? Claustrophobia at its best.

·         Number Three: Don’t try and reinvent the wheel with your horror villain. Fans of M. Night Shyamalan’s previous films may be disappointed that there is no “twist” to this movie. The audience knows from the beginning that the culprit is the Devil (though the Devil’s identity is secret, that twist seems secondary to the plot). Here’s the thing I wish I could tell every horror filmmaker out there: the classic monsters are scary for a reason. The Devil is a frightening idea; there’s no need to pump him up for contemporary audiences. We don’t need an overly complicated villain, just one that will scare the wits out of us. 

·         Number Four: Don’t neglect your characters. Just because a movie is classified as horror doesn’t mean that blood and gore are all that are needed. The good horror movies will all have characters that the audience cares about, usually because they are flawed humans who are just trying to make sense of life and the world around them. Devil gave the audience two characters whose lives are intertwined in ways even they couldn’t understand until the end of the movie: the cop with the hardened heart due to a past tragedy and the man who caused the cop to lose everything. By the end of the movie, both men find peace through faith and forgiveness. (Interestingly enough, Devil fits perfectly with my last blog entry. The film opens with a Bible verse and deals with spiritual warfare.) 

·         Number Five: Add humor for a perfect recipe. When my mother was trying to teach me to cook, she told me to always add a bit of salt whenever I add sugar. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. The salt is there to balance out the sugar. It is the same with horror. Yes, fear and suspense should be the number one ingredient, but humor has its place. It serves to lighten the mood and give the audience a chance to catch their breath, but it also makes the viewers a bit uncomfortable. Much of the humor is dark, at the expense of the people on (and sometimes off) screen. When we as an audience laugh, we do so thinking that we maybe shouldn’t be laughing. This throws off our balance and heightens the emotions we are already feeling, thereby making that next scare just a bit scarier by comparison and we jump just a little higher. There wasn’t a lot of humor in Devil, though I did find myself laughing at times, especially early on the film when the characters themselves were making awkward jokes to lighten the mood in the elevator.

When I started this list, I intended to outline the rules of good horror, but now I see that I could probably fill a book on that subject. I’ll settle with five good things that Devil did. Perhaps I’ll see another movie that will inspire me to add to this list. I hope so.

The Theology of Horror

People are often surprised when they meet me to find that I am a writer of horror fiction and a devout Christian. Many believe the two things are mutually exclusive. Usually, if they don’t outright condemn my choice of entertainment, they immediately try to downplay it. I am met with comments like, “Oh, you mean like science fiction-fantasy, type stuff?” or even worse, “You must love the Twilight books.” Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against science fiction or fantasy or even glittering vampires (I read the entire series though I’ll save that review for another day), but those are not the fiction I am talking about. More than that, though, I don’t like the implication that I (a Christian and an otherwise loveable person) enjoy the “soft stuff,” that glossy, whitewashed version of scary. The truth is I enjoy horror in all its forms but most when it is at its bloodiest. I like to see body parts flying and guts being spilled. I would even say I crave it (for anyone who hasn’t read it, Stephen King’s essay “Why We Crave Horror Movies” gives a wonderful look into the psychology of why people like me love to watch the gory and brutal movies that comprise the genre of “horror”).

Does that make me less of a Christian?

The truth is much of what we enjoy in the horror genre owes a lot to the Christian theology and worldview. Take the latest vampire craze, for instance. The vampire (and his close cousin, the werewolf) has always been a perversion of the Christian. In Christianity, eternal life is promised, a point celebrated by the Holy Communion, which is the eating of the body and the drinking of the blood of Christ. And let’s not forget the basis of Christianity: someone who defeated death by rising from the grave. Sound familiar? The newest vampires (those of the friendly, vegetarian variety) even demonstrate the classic struggle of sin. Our nature tells us to do one thing when we desperately want the opposite (the apostle Paul told of the same struggle between flesh and spirit in his letter to the Romans). But, you say, of course, vampires are inspired by Christianity; they are repelled by Holy Water and the crucifix.

I give you then another staple of the horror movie: the zombie. Like the vampire, the zombie builds upon the Christian concept of everlasting life and defeat of the grave. Look at the baptism ceremony.  Believers are “buried” in water only to be raised a new creature. The fear of these creatures is not in their ability to live beyond death, though it does give them a rather gruesome, decayed appearance, but in their lack of conscience. They live only to feed on flesh (hmmm, that sounds familiar) without any regard for, well, anything else. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead is a perfect example. Mindless zombies in a shopping mall, consuming everything without regard—wait, that sounds like everyday in my town. Seriously, though, the zombie, like the vampire and the werewolf, becomes “evil” when he/she/it gives into the carnal desires. It is the point of Christianity, like most religions, to strive toward the divine and relinquish the bodily temptations. Yes, I know zombies, like vampires and werewolves, have other (and maybe even more prominent) cultural and historical precedents, but I am just exemplifying one thread among many that goes into the horror genre.

Perhaps the most compelling argument for a Christian theology at work is in the demon possession subgenre. The Exorcist is for many, myself included, the most terrifying movie ever made. I confess, I have never thought about why I find it so terrifying. I know it is only split pea soup, but I am still wetting my pants whenever I watch that film. It is not until I saw The Last Exorcism (an excellent film, by the way) that it really struck home for me. Possession is truly terrifying because I believe it can really happen. As a Christian, I have to acknowledge a spiritual realm beyond this one, and as much as I want to believe in only the pretty angels, I know there is something much more sinister too. More than that, I actively invite, as most Christians do, the Holy Spirit to fill my body. The Bible itself speaks of such acts, calling the followers of Christ to reduce themselves and let Jesus into their hearts (John 3:30 says “He must become greater, I must become less,” speaking of the Christian’s quest to reduce selfish inclinations and allow Christ to control his or her life). The fear that something might control my body is a frightening thing. I don’t like the idea, and I suspect that others most likely feel the same way. And to invite something like that? Not something that people willingly do. And yet, as I Christian, I do it daily.

The filmmakers of The Last Exorcism seem to acknowledge this delicate balance. The protagonist Cotton Marcus (a wonderful name, by the way…a reference to Cotton Mather, I wonder?) is an evangelical preacher who is trying to overcome his own crisis of faith when he comes across a supposed case of demon possession (I won’t go into further plot details…if you haven’t seen the movie, just trust me and go watch it; it is well worth it). Cotton is at times troubled and repulsed by the notion of spirit possession, perhaps because he believes there is no spiritual world, good or bad, beyond our own physical realm. The film is just as much about his own reconciliation with his faith as it is about things that go bump in the night.

And this, for me, is what is at the heart of all horror: the battle of good versus evil. Like the serial killer on screen or on the page who we all secretly, I suspect, wish will win just this once, we all can recognize a bit of that evil within us, just as we can see the good in us as well. That battle, as old as God and the Devil, is at war with each one of us. We find the zombie, the werewolf, the vampire, the possessed girl so repulsive because we see just how close we are to that monster. If we only let our desires run rampant without regard for anyone or anything else, how long would it take for us to look like one of those monsters that haunt our nightmares?