A Year of Firsts

At a meeting a few weeks back, someone asked the icebreaker question, “What are you doing this summer to feel like a kid again?” 

It was a cutesy question that elicited lots of popsicles, picnics, and pool time. My answer was a little different, though. 

“I’m feeling like a teenager going to see all of the new horror movies out this summer.” 

The reactions were fierce: 

Ew! No! I hate horror! No thanks!

And one, “Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to see those, too!”

About a month or so ago, I realized how much I missed seeing movies. Movies were a huge part of my childhood, and pretty much the centerpiece of my college experience, where I studied TV and film. Movies have taken a backseat since my work no longer requires movie viewing, and parenthood made watching anything 2 hours long impossible in one sitting. But when I asked myself what I really felt like I was missing, and what I really would enjoy more of if I had the time, movies (at the actual theater) were at the top of my list. 

I decided the fastest way to make it happen was to make a date, with myself, once a week. On Monday or Tuesday nights, I leave the house unencumbered and take me, myself, and I to the cinema. 

The first time I exited the theater by myself, post-screening, was a revelation. I walked out of the extra cold, butter-scented darkness and into a breezy twilight, full of thoughts about what I had just seen. I had spent no energy on organizing other people’s schedules, snack needs, or comforts for a whole 2+ hours. I was able to sink into my seat and truly become immersed in the story in a way that doesn’t happen at home, or when I’m chaperoning a group of 3rd grade girls. I think I enjoyed that first movie more than anyone has enjoyed a movie in the history of movie-going. 

It seems like a small thing, but it changed my whole week. And I couldn’t wait to do it again! 

The idea for a horror-film festival came to me the next week when I realized I could literally go and see ANYTHING I WANTED and I didn’t have to take anyone else’s tastes into account. 

So my first scary movie was Is God Is, which looked positively ferocious, and exactly like the kind of story I love. Plus, I wouldn’t have to spend any time explaining why it was awesome (it’s written and directed by an Obie-award winning Black woman, it’s starring Sterling K. Brown and Vivica A. Fox, it’s full of visual references to Greek mythology AND Kill Bill AND Beyonce’s Lemonade) to someone who would rather see the Super Mario Bros. movie. 

The movie was visually stunning, and the story dealt with a lot of big ideas. It asked what rights women have to safety and autonomy over their own bodies. And when their rights and safety are violated, what right do we have to anger and vengeance? And what does it cost? 

Then, I began hearing buzz about these low-budget horror films by debut writer/directors who were blowing up the box office week after week, and I was compelled to check them out. Horror isn’t necessarily my go-to genre, but I have always been attracted to a good scare, and to the things that monsters stand in for: our deepest fears as individuals and as a culture. There are so many layers to horror, even if the execution isn’t always top-quality. 

So the following weeks I scheduled some time with Obsession and Backrooms. Each of these films drew from the language of other films and stories in ways that brought their influences into clear view, while also making something completely new. 

Is God Is felt like a Quentin Tarantino movie, and a quirky Coen brother’s story, but told from a Black, feminist lens. 

If I was pitching Obsession, I would start with, “it’s like if Big happened to the characters in Romeo and Juliet, and then everything ended much, much worse.” It’s a slow burn that builds to a crescendo of regret. 

And Backrooms took the POV style made famous by Blair Witch Project, mixed it with video game logic, and threw in a dash of Charlotte Perkins Gillman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” just to make things extra weird. The fact that a therapist is one of the main characters is a pretty clear signal that this one will mess with your assumptions of how movies should work. 

What so many classic horror movies have in common is a clear monster, external to the protagonists, and embodying everything we fear at the moment (war, disease and infection, the other, nature, technology). These films feature monstrous characters, but in all three instances, the real horror comes from within. Watching these, I found I was scared because I was being asked to get inside the “monster’s” head, to question whether I would have (could have) made the same decisions and how what feels like validation or justice for the protagonist could be a nightmare for the person on the other side. 

In a time when people are casually talking about their crash outs and how the world is a dumpster fire both on and offline, being immersed in a very personal, visceral, violent hell that the main character could have prevented (if they wanted less, if they felt less bold, if they questioned less, if they…) was truly horrifying. 

And the best part is, I don’t think these movies were asking the audience to stay small and want less. I think, at the heart of them all was the idea that fear itself keeps us from asking for more, from wanting bigger and better. The world is often set up to make us believe that our wants and desires make us the monster. But there is also the possibility that moving in the direction of your goals makes you ask better questions, care more deeply about others, and free yourself. 

That possibility was always hiding in plain sight in these films. 

The message for me was that we fear life changing decisions: standing up to violence, or asking for perfect love, or imagining a world where you can embrace yourself, warts and all. The (false) belief that pursuing those things will be not just your own undoing, but the world’s undoing, is a prison of your own making.  

If you’re not too squeamish, I hope you get a chance to see these films, too. They are fantastically clever, original, terrifying, and you won’t stop thinking about them for a long time! 

I’m excited for my movie summer to keep rolling, and hope to share some more thoughts with you here.