I’ve been on a movie kick this week. I finished my latest novel last week (Medusa Reborn, stay tuned), and my new one isn’t quite ready to be born yet. I’ve put in a few words here and there, but the vibe just isn’t there yet. So I’m watching movies.
A Facebook friend once commented that “Edgy for the sake of being edgy” is the dumbest criticism imaginable, because edgy is its own reward. “It’s like complaining about a comedian by saying he’s just being funny for the sake of funny.” And he’s got a point; funny is funny, and anything that makes us laugh is a good thing. But funny can be even funnier when there’s a point behind it. Compare Andrew Dice Clay to George Carlin and tell me I’m wrong.
So I really dig horror movies that have a point to them. I LOVE deconstructing monsters and figuring out what the writers were trying to say about society. There’s almost always hidden subtext even if the writers didn’t mean it intentionally. It’s the nature of horror. What scares people as a whole? What is going to make bank? The easiest way to answer those questions is to tap into societal anxieties and go from there.
The first movie on the docket is Dark Water, the original Japanese version. I watched the American version with Jennifer O’Connell years ago, and it was okay. But, as usual, the original was freaking fantastic. A constant theme is mothers abandoning or forgetting their daughters, and small children feeling left behind. One particular abandoned child feels especially hostile about this, and another mother is forced to make a dreadful choice to protect her own child. The ending scene wraps it all up beautifully, and the survivors come away feeling protected instead of abandoned.
Then came Seoul Station, the animated prequel to Train to Busan. The theme here dealt with the “undesirable” element of society: namely sex workers and the homeless. If people just gave a shit about this one homeless guy who just happened to be bleeding from his neck and collapsed in an alley, man none of this would have happened. There’s a fun twist near the end of this one, and the final kill is deeply satisfying.
I didn’t intend to spend most of the week watching Asian horror films, but that’s just how it turned out. On the advice of an AMAZING podcast called Girl, That’s Scary, I watched The Mimic: a Korean film based on a folk legend about a monster called the Jangsan tiger that can mimic human voices and sounds. This one comes back to the fears and anxieties of parenthood; the main character is a woman whose child disappeared years before, and she still blames herself and yearns for his return. The father believes his son to be dead and wants the family to move on, and this conflict manifests in physical form in the final moments of the film.
And finally, an American selection: Starry Eyes. Jesus Christ am I glad I never wanted to be an actor. An ambitious young woman is busting her ass to Make It, and she demonstrates that she will do anything for her big break. Death, murder, semi-consensual sex, it’s all good in Hollywood. It doesn’t QUITE punch you in the face with the symbolism, but it’s more than a light slap. Given the movie poster, I was expecting more eye-gouging, but there’s still enough gross shit to satisfy the average body horror fan. I’m hoping this one gets a sequel.
It’s been a fun week. Okay, I’ve been sitting on my ass watching movies instead of starting a new book, but recharging the batteries is important. It’s fun to sit back and pick movies apart and figure out what everything means and whether it was intended. I still get a kick out of J.R.R. Tolkien insisting that there is no World War Two symbolism in Lord of the Rings, when anyone who’s taken half an English class knows that Sauron is basically Magic Hitler. And for the record, I believe him. Not all symbolism is intentional. Sometimes I don’t realize what I’m saying in a story until the second or third rewrite. And sometimes I’m not saying anything except, “Hey, wouldn’t werewolves in space be NEAT?”
All of these movies can be found on Shudder. If you don’t have a subscription, what on earth are you doing with your life?
Dawn Napier 