Public Nightmare;
Documentation of the Fears of Society through Horror Cinema
Christopher Charles Lawton
BA(Hons) Computer Arts
2006
School of Computing and Creative Technologies
University of Abertay Dundee
Contents
Acknowledgements
Abstract
1.0 Introduction
1.1 Horror as a representation of society’s fears
1.2 Freudian psychoanalysis and its relevance to the horror film
2.0 Genre and sub-genre; traditional, stereotyped and modern horrors
2.1 The Vampire
2.2 Zombie Horror
2.3 The ‘Slasher’ film
2.4 Other Horrors
3.0 Descending into hell; realizing the narrative metaphor
3.1 The opening sequence of Romper Stomper (Wright 1992)
3.2 Composition, lighting and colour in The Descent (Marshall 2005)
3.3 Sound in Eraserhead (Lynch 1977)
3.4 Editing in Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000)
4.0 Conclusion
Appendix A
Appendix B
B1.0 Analysis of Tobe Hooper’s “The Toolbox Murders” (2004)
B1.1 Plot Summary
B1.2 Narrative Metaphor – The Id, the Ego and the Superego
B1.3 Character Traits / Metaphoric use of character
B1.3.1 Nell
B1.3.2 Charles Rooker
B1.3.3 Saffron
B1.3.4 Louis
B1.3.5 Austin
B1.3.6 Julia
B1.3.7 Lusman
B1.4 Motifs
B1.4.1 The Lift
B1.4.2 Red
B1.4.3 Symbolic Symbols
B1.5 Violence towards and the degradation of women
References
Bibliography
Acknowledgements:
Thank you to the BA(Hons) Computer Arts teaching staff for the help and support provided throughout the course of this work. Special thanks to Brian Robinson, Dr Kenneth Mc Alpine and Professor Paul Harris; without whose help and critique this work would not have been possible.
Abstract:
Of all the genres of film, the one which has caused the greatest controversy has been horror. Although this is the case, many scholars hold it in contempt, and will not provide the time to give it serious analysis. This celebrated and despised genre has much to offer outside of its stereotyped limitations, and the subtexts contained within have much to say about society and the self. Through Freudian analysis many political and personal responses to world events can be unveiled. This work seeks to analyse the narrative metaphor of films from within different sub-genres of horror cinema and from different eras in order to highlight ways in which the fears of culture have changed, and how these changes have been reflected in the films of the times. In addition, this work will look at various films from outside the realm of horror cinema in order to show that they are in fact true contemporary horrors. Finally, a study of how various films have used audio-visual metaphor and cinematic techniques to create disturbing, terrifying scenarios will be carried out.
1.0 Introduction
1.1 Horror as a representation of society’s fears
Fear has been a driving force in human evolution; the fear of death, the fear of the unknown, the fear of the self. The list of fears is unending, and as varied as every member of the human race. However, the major fears of society often change alongside new scientific development, or shifting sociological conditions. These altering fears can be found echoed in the media of the times. A particularly strong reflection of society’s fears can be found within the realm of horror cinema, as this genre typically seeks to entertain the audience through the exploitation of their fears. Horror films use a variety of devices both to entertain (through fear, anxiety, disturbance, etc.) and to make comment upon social structure, social belief, and the human mind amongst other topics.
In-depth analysis of both the narrative metaphors and cinematic devices of horror cinema can reveal a wealth of depth and commentary which could be overlooked on a surface reading. However, due to a certain stigma attached to the horror genre, many critics and scholars will not conduct analysis of it (Wood 1979; quoted Gledhill 1998; in ed. Cook 1998). The aim of this research is to examine horror cinema without prejudice, and to highlight some of the powerful ways in which it has been utilised as a medium of artistic expression.
For the purposes of this research, the analysis of certain filmic case studies will be chiefly based upon the psychoanalytic theories of Sigmund Freud (1856 - 1939). Freud’s major works on psychoanalysis were devised around the same time cinema began to find its feet as an art-form. In addition, Freudian theory will be used due to the correlation which many scholars have found between cinema and a topic on which Freud released highly influential texts, dreaming (Lebeau 2001, p. 6; Indick 2004; Gelder 2000).
This work seeks to examine the narrative metaphor weaved through much of horror cinema, and how the message is conveyed through audio-visual metaphor and cinematic devices. Furthermore, this work will discuss how these cinematic techniques and devices can be employed in the creation of distressing or disturbing scenarios. To show how horror can work beyond its often stereotyped boundaries, a discussion of genre and sub-genre will attempt to highlight how horror films have reflected the sociologic and historic context of their creation. This discussion will include works of contemporary cinematic fiction regarded as works of other genres which can be interpreted as modern horror. In order to demonstrate how the research of this work has informed the development of the Honours Project, please see Appendix A.
1.2 Freudian psychoanalysis and its relevance to the horror film
Freud theorised that an individual’s unconscious drives are repressed by a number of differing mechanisms (Colman 2001). In dreaming, an individual’s mental defences were lowered allowing repressed urges to surface. However, these unconscious urges are portrayed symbolically to the dreamer in order to allow sleep to continue undisturbed (Freud 1909; in ed. Gay 1995). The analysis of dreams on an individual level can be compared to the analysis of film as fulfilment of the repressed wishes of society (Hughes 1930; cited in Lebeau 2001, p.4; Indick 2004). Similarly, the symbolic evils and monsters of horror cinema can be analysed to reveal the fears of society akin to the analysis of a nightmare (Wells 2002).
The main elements of the human mental process are the id, the ego and the superego (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995). The ego is the main part of the self, that to which ‘consciousness is attached’ (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995). It is the ego which acts as a censor barrier stopping repressed wishes from surfacing in their true form during dreaming. Also, the ego mediates between the internal thoughts of the pre-conscious, external influences of the outside world and the instinctive drives of the pleasure seeking id (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995). Often in cinema, the ego is represented by the main hero or anti-hero character, such as Claire Bartel (Annabella Sciorra) in The Hand That Rocks the Cradle (Hanson 1992). Sometimes, the ego character is also verging closely onto the territory of the id, as is the case with Michael Douglas’ character William Foster in Falling Down (Schumacher 1993).
The superego, which Freud believed to be created during the resolution of the Oedipal / Electra complex (the incestuous desire he alleged that males / females between the ages of three and six years felt for their opposite sex parents (Indick 2004)), acts as a control mechanism of the personality (Crain 2005). It is thought of as the moral code, or conscience, and social convention attained through identification with parents or mentor figures, providing an individual with a handed down sense of right and wrong, which is developed throughout life (Crain 2005; Indick 2004; Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995, pp. 637 – 642). The most common occurrence in cinema of the superego is in the form of a mentor character, who guides the hero / heroine towards the final battle or challenge (Indick 2004). For example, in La Vita è Bella (Benigni 1997), Guido Orefice (Roberto Benigni) must protect his son from the horrors of a Nazi death camp by making him believe he is participating in a contest to win a tank to ensure he behaves and remains hidden.
The id is the most primitive instinctive drives of the human mental apparatus. Seeking pleasure, and driven to rid the mind of pain and anguish, the id demands immediate results, and will use any means necessary to achieve them (Crain 2005). The uncivilised id drives are repressed by the ego’s defence mechanisms, although both the ego and the superego originate from the id during an individual’s development (Colman 2001). A bleakly humorous representation of the id barely repressed by the ego can be found in the character of Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), in American Psycho (Harron 2000). The id, within horror cinema, is most often signified by the killer, or monster, which needs to be repressed by society.
Thoughts become pre-conscious only when they are connected to their related word-associations. Feelings, however, do not require any connection to words in order to surface, and they may be either conscious or unconscious (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995). As feelings both require no intellectual associations to occur, and that they act as a driving force in human decision making, points to a key factor in successful, powerful cinema. Targeting the audience emotionally instead of purely intellectually, films can subvert the audience into reconsidering their fundamental ideas and beliefs about society. Conversely, attempting to engage the audience on a purely intellectual level can make the viewer ‘switch-off’.
A fine example of this is the psychological horror Funny Games (Haneke 1997). Haneke allows the audience to become somewhat attached to a young family, before killing each of them methodically. Allowing the killers to engage with the audience, and through self-reference to the unspoken laws of filmic reality, Haneke makes the audience complicit with the murders for which they have paid to see. Also, the main sequence of violence occurs off-screen, juxtaposed against such placid imagery as a killer making a cup of tea. This allows the audience’s imagination to visualise in more detail the violence they expected to see realised on-screen. Robbing the audience of the safety net often created by the practices of Hollywood cinema, and forcing them to imagine the murder of a child themselves, creates an emotional response of both horror and guilt. This then leads to the emotional response of re-thinking society and media violence.
Freud’s beliefs about the differing nature of what he termed as pleasurable and ‘unpleasurable’ sensations and experiences (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995) filter extremely well into the realm of cinematic expression. He believed that ‘unpleasurable’, or disturbing, sensations are far more impelling than pleasurable experiences. The greater psychical energy summoned by a disturbing, ‘unpleasurable’ experience can create a drive towards social change (Freud 1923; in ed. Gay 1995). When horror cinema creates a strong emotional response of distaste towards an aspect of society, it can force the audience to discuss and re-evaluate the topic of the work. For instance, a film such as Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000) - through the use of editing, colour, sound and narrative – can subvert the audience into rethinking their position not only on drug abuse in the young, but the trust placed in the hands of the medical profession.
Horror cinema often uses both emotive cinematography and narrative metaphor in order to create a sense of disturbance and ‘unpleasure’ in its audience, who seek fear and revulsion as a form of entertainment. This allows horror cinema to stand apart from most mainstream cinema, empowering it with an ability to not only make social commentary, but to stir social change. The reason believed to be behind the horror audience’s appreciation of the genre is that the cinema provides them with a safe environment in which to confront their fears, in full knowledge that they will be free from the grip of their terror when they return home (Voytilla 1999). However, if Freud’s theories of pleasure and unpleasure are correct, the viewer may not have escaped the grip of the film, instead, it could have a lasting effect upon their psyche and opinion.
2.0 Genre and sub-genre; traditional, stereotyped and modern horrors
The discussion of genre will begin with an examination of one of the oldest and most resonant icons of horror, the vampire. It will then continue onwards to discuss the evolution of the modern day zombie film, through analysis of George A. Romero’s classic films Night of the Living Dead (1968) and Dawn of the Dead (1978), in contrast with comedy horror tribute Shaun of the Dead (Wright 2004) and Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later (2002). This contrast is intended to show how changes in both era of manufacture; and location of conception alter the intentions of the filmmaker.
Next, the discussion will focus upon succinct analysis of two examples of the modern ‘slasher’ genre; using the Toolbox Murders (Hooper 2004), and Switchblade Romance (Aja 2005) in order to elaborate upon some of the differing metaphoric statements made by filmmakers working within this one sub-genre.
The investigation will expand to include some of the modern horrors which masquerade as works of other genres. This discussion will analyse Romper Stomper (Wright 1992), as racial horror. Also, this dialogue will look at Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000) as horror of modern life.
The audience reception of horror, much like all cinema; is determined by many factors. The year in which a film is released will reveal different opinions about what the filmmakers intended than a poll conducted ten years later. In fact, the reaction each individual will have differs because each individual has a completely unique experience and perception of the world (Lehman and Luhr 2003). Even viewing the same film on different days can create a different interpretation of its contents. This could be the reason why many filmmakers and artists refuse to discuss their work’s metaphoric intent; any pre explanation or marketing will have a direct impact on how society views a film.
2.1 The Vampire
One of the most frequently used devices of horror cinema, and indeed of all horror fiction, is the vampire. For some, modern vampire cinema can be seen as an exploration of the often sexual killings of flesh-eating serial killers such as Jeffrey Dahmer. These killers present a side of humanity which permeates all cultures throughout history, indeed the original inspiration for Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula (1897) was an historical Transylvanian Prince. Vlad Tepes, who became known as Vlad the Impaler, was one of the most sadistic rulers of all time (Wilson 1997, p.49). The material created by authors and filmmakers over the years whom have been inspired by this man’s now legendary status has documented societies unending fascination with the darker side of humanity.
The vampire can be seen as a representative of the Id, much as a serial killer focuses upon nothing other than the pursuit of pleasure. Horror cinema, through the use of mechanisms such as the vampire, allows the audience to explore this repressed side of humanity, the instinctive drives to penetrate and to kill. The vampire’s seduction is the embodiment of Eros and Thanatos, sex and death, the two basic primal drives (Indick 2004). The modern vampire tale is the product of the anxieties caused by breastfeeding. These anxieties are not caused by bad parenting, but by overprotective, smothering mothers. Depriving the child of deprivation, and pandering to the child’s every whim, leads to grotesquely indulgent children (Rousseau 1979 and Wollstonecraft 1972; cited in Copjec 1991; in ed. Gelder 2000).
Erika in La Pianiste (Haneke 2001) is a sexually perverted and emotionally disturbed woman who gains pleasure from extreme sadomasochistic practices involving the torture and humiliation of both herself and her young student, with whom she is having an illicit affair. She is a contemporary vampire, a sadistic control freak and the product of breastfeeding anxieties. Her perverse nature stems from her unconventional relationship with her mother, whom Erika still shares a bed with even though she herself is a grown woman. Her mother is destructively overprotective and suffocating with her control over her adult daughter’s life. Erika struggles to contain her incestuous desires for her mother, the projections of her unresolved Electra complex for her dead father – kept alive by her mother’s domineering personality.
She eventually commits suicide when her student beats and rapes her, removing the last shred of control she had in her life. When her affair had begun with the student, she had been given power for the first time, after a lifetime of submission. Her suicide became the last choice she could control in her life. Whilst her forms of release seem extreme, Erika’s struggle is symbolic of the struggle everyone goes through to find control within their own lives, especially those whose parents attempt to live through them. The horrific nature of this work could also be taken to represent the effect of an overbearing, controlling government suffocating its people.
The act of suckling is itself thought, in Freudian terms, to be one of the psychosexual stages of development. An oral fixation can be instilled in fictional characters through numerous devices, such as smoking, thumb sucking, nail biting or overeating, to show that these characters have various psychological and emotional needs which are not being fulfilled (Indick 2004, pp. 29 - 33). There is a connection between the bloodlust of the vampire and the baby’s longing for milk; it is a manifestation of the oral sadism which stems from the teething baby feeding (Indick 2004, p. 32).
The origins of the mythology of the vampire go as far back as the ancient Greek culture (Wilson 1997, p.7). Belief in the vampire stemmed from medical ignorance of as then unknown illnesses like plague, and a lack of the modern understanding of decomposition. Whilst the original tales of vampirism mirrored the supernatural and religious fears caused by the medical and scientific ignorance of the times, the recurrence of the vampire themes in the modern cinema does not. Instead, the vampire now symbolises the darker, more sinister faculties of the self, and represents an external fear – that of the sexual predator and the gratification demanding culture of modern day.
2.2 Zombie Horror
The zombie is another of the great institutions of horror cinema. The often apocalyptic visions of these films symbolise the replacement of current society with a new mode of existence, ‘a new society devouring the old,’ as George A. Romero described them (in Simon 2000). Romero is widely regarded as the greatest director in horror cinema, and his infamous zombie trilogy; Night of the Living Dead (1968), Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Day of the Dead (1985) have inspired generations of writers and film makers. In the interests of focusing this work, only the first two of Romero’s trilogy will be discussed. Both of these films provide great insight into the American culture of the times in which they were produced. Whilst the overriding metaphor of the inevitable downfall of capitalist, consumerist society punctuates Romero’s films, many other issues are tackled in ways no other films had before (Lowenstein 2000; in Simon 2000).
The end sequence of the Night of the Living Dead (Romero 1968) points to the lynching of blacks in America, and the struggle for civil rights which was reaching boiling point in the late 1960s (Lowenstein 2000; in Simon 2000). The sequence itself is a montage of press-like still images of the corpse of the main character, a black man named Ben, who has just been gunned down by ‘redneck’ American whites being thrown onto a pile of bodies to be burned. The use of a black male lead at this time was a very uncommon occurrence (Landis 2000; in Simon 2000), and his death at the hands of white men and not zombies – as was the case with the rest of the cast – is highly significant.
The stills themselves show the body being treated like meat, and carried at arms length using meat hooks to avoid contamination. Having been made to care for Ben during the course of the film severely enhances the impact of the white shooting party robbing him of his life at the end (Lowenstein 2000; in Simon 2000). This makes the audience question whether he was being killed because they thought he was a zombie, or because he was black and they could get away with it. Keeping his corpse at arms length also echoes the segregation of blacks at the time, and their treatment as lower class citizens, or even in some cases sub-humans, in ways traditional cinema could not. It reminds the viewer in the end that the true horrors come not from without, but from within ourselves and our communities. The meat hook montage itself is extremely familiar with the inhumane way in which bodies of Vietcong dead were loaded onto American trucks during the Vietnam War (Savini 2000; in Simon 2000). Shortly after the My Lai massacre in Vietnam, Romero was driving to New York to attempt to sell his film. This was the night in which radio broadcasts began to inform America that Martin Luther King had been assassinated (Romero 2000; in Simon 2000).
Interestingly, whilst the Night of the Living Dead (Romero 1968) documents a move forward in American race related thinking, it also highlights the inherently sexist nature of the era. The female characters are there to be no more than mere damsels in distress who run screaming at every opportunity, and rely upon the males to protect them and provide rational thought. At one point the lead female even has to be punched unconscious by Ben as her erratic behaviour has endangered everyone. Romero’s treatment of women changed drastically in Dawn of the Dead (1978). Now, whilst the male characters behaved towards the lead female in a sexist, chauvinistic manner, Romero’s portrayal of her did not. Francine (Gaylen Ross), though pregnant, refuses to run screaming from her attackers, instead she stands and fights; a product of the growing women’s movement.
The four survivors in Romero’s 1978 work take refuge within a vast shopping centre, which at the time was a relatively new development within consumer lifestyle (Romero 2000; in Simon 2000). Whilst at first this strikes the four protagonists as a sort of wonderland, and they go on scavenger missions to collect anything they wish from the unmanned stores, they soon become bored and placated with their material possessions. Romero uses this to criticise what was, and still is, a powerful drive in Western capitalist culture; the id-like desire for instant gratification and material possession (Williams 2003). Within his second film, the metaphoric criticism of consumer society has been refined (Humphries 2002). The constant return of the zombies to the shopping centre reflects strongly the lifeless, automated drive Western consumer society feels towards these buildings. Indeed, it sends forth the message that these buildings stand as great churches to the cult of consumerism (Williams 2003). Romero’s second zombie film also highlights the racism still devouring parts of American, and indeed all world cultures, during the opening section of the film; in which a white military man on a raid of an ethnic slum tower block indiscriminately murders both the living and the walking dead who are not white whilst shouting racist slurs. In this way, the film makes comment about the fact that whilst the laws have moved forward many of the people’s beliefs have not.
In contrast to the American zombie films, two recent British films have theorised about the effect of a zombie apocalypse. Danny Boyle, director of Trainspotting (1996) – an horrific black comedy treatment of heroin abuse containing a nightmarish withdrawal sequence highlighting the dangers of narcotic abuse, also directed 28 Days Later (2002). Boyle’s modern zombie tale taps into some of the greatest fears of the post-millennial era, whilst also making a statement about the true downfall of humanity, the humans themselves. Utilizing a common device in horror, the act of waking up into the nightmare, also found in Dawn of the Dead (Romero 1978), denies the audience the escape of the events being a dream. This increases the sense of ominous dread and reality.
The film explores the impact of the effect of an uncontrollable blood disease on the populous. Known in the film as ‘rage’, this device targets both the fears of sexually transmitted infections such as AIDS, and the effect of a chemical weapon attack on the country. Also, as the name suggests, the disease has the effect of removing all societal programming from the infected. They become id-monsters, creatures of instinct killing anything for the food they desire most, human flesh. The food they crave represents that which they have come to lose; it symbolises the ego, individual identity, and the sociologic programming of the superego. However, the act of consumption destroys the very thing which they seek, and feeds only the id.
The main evils presented within the film are not the zombies; instead the worst traits of humanity are portrayed through the use of some of the human survivors. A squad of soldiers attempt to rape a woman and a young girl, whom they had sworn to protect. They are all perfectly sane, and insist they are doing it to ensure a future for humanity. However, under this guise lies the true meaning for the act, they all seek pleasure, and will kill in order to achieve it.
Shaun of the Dead (Wright 2004), whilst being classed as a horror comedy, remains far from the realm of the spoof. The moments of horror remain true to the traditions of the zombie genre. There are many similarities between this film and that which it tributes, Dawn of the Dead (Romero 1978). However, the creator’s of this work present what they saw as the reaction the British public would have to an invading zombie horde.
Instead of travelling to a shopping centre to still their desire to consume (which as members of capitalist society they see as necessary for their survival), they find security in a popular British haunt, the pub. Within they find every consume-able product the British stereotype requires. When the invasion begins, the two lead male characters at first do not take it seriously; as the truth begins to dawn on them they don’t panic. Poking fun at the stereotypes of British culture, they instead sit and drink a cup of tea. Still, the consumer criticism continues as they wait watching television to be told what to do; just as they would watch television to be told what to consume. The two lead characters, whilst trying to defend themselves from oncoming zombies, even take a break to sort through their classic vinyl collection to decide what is too valuable to throw away. The film uses this to point out the importance material possessions hold over the lives of individuals when considering the safety of themselves and those around them.
The analogy of humanity as the living dead, due to the knowledge of death as inevitable (Romero 2000; in Simon 2000), and the automated programming of society, is highlighted through the character of Ed. By the end of the film he has become a zombie, and his best friend Shaun keeps him tethered in his shed, feeding him raw meat and playing computer games with him. Nothing has changed for them; Ed remains the same consumer entity he was before, living off of Shaun’s earnings in death as he had in life.
2.3 The ‘Slasher’ film
One of the most popular sub-genres of horror in the 1980s, the ‘slasher’ film has had many incarnations. Long running series films once were heralded as truly frightening. However, due to overexposure and the deterioration of concept caused by repeated sequels, these series often resulted in self parody; becoming devoid of real social purpose. Becoming solely used to fulfil the bloodlust of the zombie culture criticised by filmmakers like Romero, these films eventually added to the current stigma of horror cinema. However, some of the films from this sub-genre can reveal worthwhile content beyond the side show attraction to horrible imaginings.
A common theme found in this genre is the empowerment of women through the attainment of a phallic symbol, and the castration of the male monster. Through her attempts to defend her femininity, in the end the lead female has lost it by engaging in the ‘masculine’ acts of violence with a phallic tool (Humphries 2002). The killer who feared punishment for oedipal feelings towards mother has been castrated; the roles become reversed (Clover 1992; in ed. Gelder 2000).
The Toolbox Murders (Hooper 2004) provides an interesting model for the human mental process signified through the use of a hotel, its residents and a psychotic murderer. The building, which is under renovation, can be viewed as metaphoric for the patient undergoing therapy. The patient, also, can be taken to represent culture in the process of social change. With the building taking the place of the ego, the residents are symbols of the thoughts, feelings and beliefs of the self; in turn representing the opinions of the differing social groups operating within one culture. An elderly resident acts as the superego figure, censoring information from the heroine (representing the successful therapist or progressive thought) until he deems the time right to act as mentor and guide her to the final battle. The killer represents the pleasure seeking id drives; in this case destroying the characters which remind him of past embarrassments and alienation. This could also be taken as a pariah or fringe group attempting to destroy the culture which seeks to repress it. The ending provides a return to social and personal repression. For an in-depth analysis of both the narrative and visual metaphor of the film, and the treatment of gender within it, see Appendix B.
Switchblade Romance (Aja 2005), utilizes a shadowy, boiler-suited man as a projection of the extremely violent id of the lead female. However, the plot refuses to reveal this information until the end; acting as a censor barrier. That the lead female is the killer has a significant impact upon the subtext of the film’s design. Throughout the first three quarters of the film the audience seems to identify with the killer, cheering whilst he brutally murders his victims. In most films of this kind, during the end battle (which in this case seems to occur between the killer and the lead female) the audience switches allegiance to applaud the lead female (Schoell 1985; quoted in Clover 1992; in ed. Gelder 2000). In this film the killer is a projection created by the lead female, she has been killing the rest of the cast; forcing the audience to identify entirely with the killer. The second lead female manages to survive but doesn’t kill the lead; as the audience’s sole identification was with the killer, whose violent acts they paid to see, the killer must live on. The filmmaker seemed intent upon using the metaphor of the male killer in order to disturb the unconscious minds of the audience, by denying them their expected release from the guilt of breaking social convention and indulging their primal, repressed urges.
2.4 Other Horrors
There are many horror sub-genres for which there is no space here to discuss. For example, religious horror made famous through films such as The Exorcist (Friedkin 1973) and Stigmata (Wainwright 1999). The films of David Cronenberg introduced the world to body horror, encompassing fears of cancer, disease and sexuality. Ghost stories, treatments of closet homosexuality through the Jekyll and Hyde tale, Communist monsters and fears of nuclear holocaust; the focus of horror cinema has been dictated by the fears of each era. However, in the post-millennial era, many of these fears no longer hold major sway. Mental illness, drug addiction, terrorist attack, violent youth, alienation and death are common contemporary cultural fears.
The fears which had been present in 1984 (Radford 1984); totalitarian control, complete invasion of privacy, thought control, media brainwashing and imprisonment in the name of freedom, are all as valid today as they once were. However, the modern day usage of some of the film’s most haunting devices are very revealing about the nature of today’s Western culture. ‘Room 101’, the place where the final, torturous acts of brainwashing take place (the destruction of ideas the state doesn’t approve of), and ‘Big Brother’, the omnipresent invasive image of the ruling party; have both become popular game-shows. This seems to indicate a culture which either accepts, or no longer fears, these human rights horrors.
Through the conjoined stories of its four major characters, Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000) explores without criticism the effects of drug addiction. The downward spiral which they are all travelling robs them of their dreams and aspirations. Sarah, an elderly widow, the mother of one of the film’s junkies, becomes addicted to stimulants. She naively receives them from her doctor in the guise of diet pills to slim down for a television game show she is meant to appear on. Through this character the film questions many aspects of modern culture. The unshakable trust which many people have in authority figures, such as doctors, is shown to be dangerous; the doctor represents little more than a government approved drug dealer. He never looks at Sarah, or checks her health, before prescribing addictive pills without proper instruction, wanting only her money. When she eventually has a nervous breakdown, her trust in authority is further abused. Conned into signing up for experimental electroshock therapy, again without explanation, she is left a helpless, gibbering shell.
Sarah’s story also acts as a discourse on the horrors of ageing. Having spent her life caring for others, she has been left with no one. Her husband is dead, and her son is a junky who only comes round once in a while, normally to steal her television to sell for a fix. She finds her only hope in a telephone call announcing she is to be on television. The end of her story truly hits home the fear people have of becoming old, senile and unloved. She only wants to use the game show to tell the world how much she loves her son and late husband. As she is an old woman who has done no wrong in life, witnessing the amount of suffering she goes through creates a great sense of ‘unpleasure’ in the audience; making the film a true contemporary horror.
Romper Stomper (Wright 1992) takes the audience on a horrific journey into the darker side of humanity. The xenophobic, tribal part of human instinct, still permeating large parts of Western culture, is shown here through a neo-Nazi skinhead gang in Australia. The treatment of gang violence and racism goes beyond the realm of the gang film or racial drama. Cinematic technique and actor performance propel the film into the realm of horror. Some of these techniques will be discussed in the following section. Romper Stomper (Wright 1992) forces the viewer to confront outdated, yet still alive, issues of racial hatred head on, without casting judgement on the skinheads of the film. The majority of the soundtrack has been performed by a neo-Nazi band. The punk songs are full of bile and hatred, and hearing what these gangs listen to is extremely troubling, though necessary to see into their world. This lack of patronising, judgemental storytelling actually enhances the brutality of the film, creating a great sense of disgust within the audience towards the protagonists. Had the filmmakers preached about the dangers of racial hatred, instead of submerging the audience in an unrelenting orgy of hate fuelled bedlam, the film would not only have lost its impact – but possibly its audience.
3.0 Descending into hell; realizing the narrative metaphor
In order to demonstrate how some different kinds of horrors have successfully created disturbing and threatening experiences, certain case studies will now be discussed. The opening sequence of Romper Stomper (Wright 1992) will be analysed to give an example of how the terrors of racial hatred were portrayed emotively throughout the film. The Descent (Marshall 2005) will be examined for its use of composition, lighting and colour. The use of sound in Eraserhead (Lynch 1977) will be touched upon briefly, as will the use of editing in Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000).
3.1 The opening sequence of Romper Stomper (Wright 1992)
Beginning with an orchestral score reminiscent of the Jaws (Spielberg 1975) theme accompanied by cold blue credits rolling on a black background, the film suggests a violent, terrible force approaching. The blue text signals the calm before the storm, and the music represents the stalking of a hunter chasing prey. The cut from the black background to film footage is synchronised with the cut from the score to diegetic sound; the beast has arrived.
The opening shot is a close-up on the feet of some Vietnamese kids who are skateboarding. The anonymity this provides signifies that this could be anyone, possibly the children of the audience. The kids skate down into a tunnel, lit on the outside by a single red light indicative of the danger which awaits them. Representing the descent into hell, the entrance is made using a first person camera shot; it is not just the Vietnamese who are entering this vile world, but the audience.
Once inside the tunnel, non-diegetic screams begin on the soundtrack accompanying the hollow, echoing diegetic noises of the tunnel. The camera, again in first person, peers up at the hostile faces of the skinheads as they begin to pass them. The screams make the glaring, sneering faces of the skinheads extremely intimidating, like the monsters of traditional horror. The angle, showing only the corner of the wall and the ceiling behind the Nazis creates a highly claustrophobic atmosphere; there is no means of escape visible to them. The perspective occasionally cuts to a close-up of a terrified Vietnamese girl, building the claustrophobic tension. The skateboard is eventually stopped by Hando, the lead skinhead following a close-up of Hando’s crotch blocking the path, symbolising his all consuming id drives.
Various close-ups ensue showing the gang grabbing each of the kids and beating them, and Hando pinning the oldest Vietnamese to a wall. They threaten the Vietnamese before beginning to beat them senseless. The girl’s screams punctuate this sequence, increasing the disturbing terror. As one of the Vietnamese breaks free and tries to run, for the first time an exit is visible on screen. However, this is only for a moment as he is quickly overpowered. As soon as they have beaten him to the ground, the camera cuts back to a first person view. The gang stamp downward at the camera, implying that it is the viewer whom they are attacking as well as the Vietnamese. Witnessing the hatred on the faces of these men being directed at the viewer, and not an on-screen actor makes the sequence incredibly distressing. The sequence ends with one of the gang members gesticulating offensively at the camera and screaming, ‘Fuck off’ as a final verbal assault upon the audience. The title appears, again against a black background in pale blue letters; the audience has now reached the eye of the storm. The entire opening sequence is tinted a cold metallic blue, symbolic of the methodical way in which the skinheads attack anything they despise.
3.2 Composition, lighting and colour in The Descent (Marshall 2005)
The Descent (Marshall 2005) is a visceral journey into the unconscious. The film begins with vast, open forestry, indeed the whole first section emphasises the spacious nature of the outside world. However, after an accident which kills the lead female’s whole family, she wakes up in a hospital bed. The death of her daughter is symbolised by sequences of her blowing out candles on her birthday cake being consumed by darkness. This becomes a motif throughout the film; the memory which haunts the lead female, driving her deeper into her unconscious. Realising her daughter is dead she climbs out the hospital bed and runs into a deserted corridor; only to be engulfed in darkness herself.
Later in the film, when she goes on a caving trip with her friends, there is more vast forestry, filmed from a helicopter to show the immense size of the wilderness they are in. This imagery, juxtaposed against the tiny spaces encountered after they go caving works to greatly enhance the claustrophobia. Once inside the caves, the composition becomes increasingly tight as the film goes on, creating the sense of being trapped. The lighting from this point is only created through the use of their equipment; helmet mounted flashlights, glow-sticks and flares. Not only does this enhance the sense of realism (as there would be no other lights), it also enables moments to genuinely terrify the audience, who can see as little as the cavers. The claustrophobic camerawork also often makes the viewer feel as though they are trapped alongside the cavers.
The use of colour throughout the film contains symbolic subtexts and also works to create an unnatural, mystical, evil atmosphere. For instance, whilst the lead female is hospitalised in the beginning, there is a greenish tint to everything. Later, certain sequences involving the monstrous cave dwellers are lit with the same green, through the use of glow-sticks. This suggests that; as the initial sequence contains a very ethereal atmosphere, and the film is ambiguous to whether or not she is actually dead, the creatures are manifestations of her id drives seeking revenge for the pain she has suffered.
The use of the colour red becomes important too. The lead female becomes enraged late on in the film having found out she has been bitterly betrayed by her supposed friend Juno. Not only has Juno had an affair with the lead female’s late husband, she has severely wounded her best friend and left her to die. The lead female has to kill her best friend to end her suffering. Soon after, she becomes attacked by monsters, and brutally kills each of them. During a fight with one of them, they both fall into a pool of gore. She emerges, covered in blood and caked in red light from a burning torch without her humanity. She demands revenge; the colour red symbolic of the rage within her, and her regression to an id-like state free from the oppression of societal thinking. Her whole family, and now her best friend are now dead leaving her no reason to return to the outside world.
3.3 Sound in Eraserhead (Lynch 1977)
David Lynch’s masterpiece is a film so rich in audio and visual symbolism that it is impossible to explore in full here. However, the use of audio in the creation of the disturbing nature of the film will be touched upon briefly as its use of sound is remarkable. The first third of the film is almost in silence, fairly low volume industrial noise both acts diegetically as the sounds of Henry’s environment, but also non-diegetically representing the state of Henry’s mind. Later, the sounds of his baby crying become extremely loud, often drowning out all other noise. The juxtaposition of the initial silences and the baby’s screams places the audience in the same state of alarm and distress as Henry. Unfortunately, without the space to do this incredible film justice, the correlation throughout between audio and image can only be discussed here in relation to one scene.
In the scene where Henry meets his girlfriend’s family many surreal and disturbing things happen. Henry sees puppies suckling at their mother’s teats, accompanied by a synchronous squeaking which seems unnatural; this helps to build on the already discomforting atmosphere of the scene. When her father enters the room and begins speaking about his job, his tone soon becomes nasty and angry. As he raises his voice, non-diegetic synchronous sounds of engines and dogs barking add to the fear and disturbance. The family sit down to dinner and Henry is asked to carve their miniature chickens. When he attempts to cut the first chicken, it begins to defecate faecal gravy onto the plate, twitching. The squelching, bubbling sounds of the defecation are accompanied by the orgasmic moans of Henry’s girlfriend’s mother. Aside from these two noises, the sequence is in silence. This makes the already disturbing sequence almost unbearable, making the audience feel the same emotional unsettling as Henry.
3.4 Editing in Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000)
Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky 2000) utilizes split screen imagery at different points throughout in order to accomplish different goals. Sometimes, such as the sequence in which Sarah’s son steals her television, it is used to show the actions and reactions of two characters, whom otherwise would not be on screen together. On other occasions it is used to emphasise the subtle actions; such as the caress between lovers in a close embrace. In this, the split screen either works to unite or divide the characters. Also, throughout the film the footage is sped up and slowed down during drug taking sequences; seeking to replicate their experiences for the viewer.
When the film reaches its climax, the film begins to cut rapidly between images of Sarah being force-fed and being given electroshock therapy, her son being rushed into surgery, his girlfriend being forced to have sex with a prostitute in front of a large crowd, and her son’s friend suffering withdrawals whilst working in jail. The sequence ends with her son’s arm being amputated. Flashing rapidly between each of their miserable ends, the sequence is accompanied by piercing rapid music, the sounds of an excited crowd, electrocution and screaming. The film is successful in translating the distress of it’s protagonists onto the audience.
4.0 Conclusion
The horror genre has much to offer the cinema goer, beyond that which is usually attributed to it. Indeed, the horror film provides the viewer with an often enjoyable, terrifying and exhilarating experience. However, it has also offered numerous auteurs and filmmaking teams with a podium to use for artistic, psychological and political expression. Psychoanalysis allows individuals to find meaning lurking beneath the surface of the films, and historical hindsight has revealed striking information about the reflections horror cinema has made, consciously and unconsciously, of world events. The very nature of this branch of cinema provides it with potency for the creation of drive to social change not found, at least to the same degree, within films of other genres. The stereotyped limitations of the genre itself have certainly become outdated, as society has now moved into an era where classic fears no longer hold sway. Now, new fears have driven the horror genre to expand into other areas, although the goal remains the same; to make the audience question themselves, the society they live in, and often reality and existence itself.
Appendix A
Due to the nature of the preceding text, linking the research to the project which it drove throughout the text itself would have proven impractical. In order to accurately reflect upon how the research inspired the rapid evolution of the project, a succinct chronological discourse will prove both more compelling and comprehensible.
The initial research into the metaphoric subtexts and atmospheric control of horror cinema had inspired two separate concepts. To enable the creation of the strongest possible response to the research, both potential outcomes were developed to an assessable stage; including concept art, storyboards and treatments and / or screenplays. A comparison was then conducted between the two, both personally and with the aid of the Abertay University Computer Arts faculty.
The first concept, during a period of research into the similarity between black comedy and horror, was a piece entitled Nightmare Cheddar. It followed the exploits of an insomniac as he attempted to eat some old cheese, which instead ended up eating him. When the focus shifted to researching the use of narrative metaphor and mise en scéne in the creation of terror a second project was conceived. Intended as a photorealistic animation, Power was an exploration of the abuse of power in many forms. The piece itself involved a woman being spied on in her flat by security cameras outside, and hidden cameras inside. The intent was to titillate the audience before punishing them as they hear her being raped (off-screen).
In fitting with the research into the reception of horror films, and with advice from Professor Paul Harris and Dr. Kenneth Mc Alpine (2006), it was decided that whilst both of the concepts could work well, the voyeurism based project would require certain changes in order to accurately interpret the research proposals. The main problem stemmed from not only its animated nature, but also the context in which it was to be presented. Instead of presenting it in an animated form in front of a prepared audience, the piece would best be displayed on the internet, or in a Closed Circuit Television control room (Harris, 2006). For maximum efficiency, the work would also have to be live action, which would conform to the views on gender portrayal in Clover’s Her Body, Himself (1992; in ed. Gelder 2000). The use of a live woman would not only titillate the audience, but increase the sense of revulsion when she is attacked, due to the audience’s previous arousal at her state of undress. The presentation online, in fitting with the knowledge attained about audience reception context (Lehman and Luhr 2003), would increase the sense of realism, especially if it was marketed as real footage. However, as this would not be possible within the constraints of how the work was to be presented, this project did not go ahead.
Having decided upon the Nightmare Cheddar project, full scale development could begin. However, it was decided that for the purposes of accurate reflection of the studies in question, specific workflow choices were made which proved both a help and a hindrance in the creation of the project. Expanding upon the standard brainstorming session which spawned both of the potential projects, the full development was conducted as a process of free-association. This psychoanalytic technique; present in the brainstorming sessions, allowed the project to grow organically. Helping to realise the world of the Denver character without censorship, this process also unfortunately led to constantly changing deadlines and an increase in stress. As the decision had been made to utilize the control over all aspects of the mise en scéne as a way of allowing the entire piece to reflect Denver’s perceptions; free association was the most valid method available. It also allowed the piece to reflect the psychoanalytic analysis of horror cinema being performed as research for the dissertation.
Due to the effects of reception context study, it seems inappropriate to explain here what the metaphor and symbolism within the final piece means. A conscious decision not to elaborate upon this aspect of he content has been made in order to allow all viewers to interpret the piece in their own way. The atmospheric goal, however, was intended to be the creation of an unsettling, uncanny atmosphere and not the tense, suspenseful fear caused by some horror films. The initial bleak humour of the original script has also been left in the piece, although the original start sequence has been removed. Not only was the animated bunny being shot on Denver’s television somewhat clichéd, it also served to add confusion to the piece. The original intent for the animation was as a part of a television programme, where the bunny gag would have been a transitional sketch. As the piece was switched to be a stand alone short animation, there was no longer any place for it in the work.
The use of colour here was to show the world of the animation as the lead character Denver perceives it. As the Lüscher test; which psychologically profiled participants due to their preference of colour, proved, individuals react differently to varied colours (Bellantoni 2005). It was with this in mind that the decision was made not to attempt to base colour choice on intellectual reasoning. Instead, the attempt was to use colours which felt right in accordance with the character’s own perceptions.
In the end the work completed on the unfinished project led to the strengthening of the other. The final composition of the images in Nightmare Cheddar, were intended to create a claustrophobic, paranoid atmosphere, and to represent the changing focus of the two characters’ attentions.
Appendix B
B1.0 Analysis of Tobe Hooper’s “The Toolbox Murders” (2004)
B1.1 Plot Summary
A couple move into a rundown apartment building which is under renovation. The renovations have unleashed a monster hidden deep within the building’s structure. As the beast kills off the residents the lead female, Nell, begins to unravel the secrets of the building and its past. A strange old man helps guide her along the path to survival.
B1.2 Narrative Metaphor – The Id, the Ego and the Superego
The overall metaphor of the film’s narrative is the notion of a patient undergoing therapy. The building is representative of the ego, and the residents are the varied thoughts and facets of the self. The oldest resident, Charles Rooker, is the symbol of the superego, and the id is represented by the sadistic beast unleashed by the renovations (themselves iconic of therapy in progress). Each darkened corridor represents another alley into the unconscious mind. The various devices used to weave this metaphoric subtext through the film will be discussed in the following sections.
B1.3 Character Traits / Metaphoric use of character
B1.3.1 Nell
The female lead, Nell, represents a number of things. Firstly, she represents the anxious, frightened, defenceless and powerless feelings often harboured by the ego. She also represents the caring, compassionate aspects of the self. Her discoveries and eventual defeat of the ravenous id (albeit with a lot of male help, discussed later in appendix 1.5) make her symbolic also of the successful therapist. That she can also be considered as part of the ego is highly significant, the work done by outside therapists (the renovators) can only uncover the problem. It takes realisations occurring from within (those made by the ego-internal Nell) to banish the intentions of the id back to the unconscious and cure the problem.
The sense of Nell’s defencelessness is enhanced at every opportunity throughout the film. Her husband is largely absent throughout. Eventually, through apparent false alarms, he begins to pooh-pooh her genuine fears as simple new-location anxieties. She loses the respect of the police when she phones them suspecting the murder of one of the residents (it is two actors rehearsing) and then phones them again soon after as another resident is actually killed. However, the victim has been hidden like a guilty secret. With the trust and belief of no one, Nell ends up trapped within the hidden rooms of the building (the unconscious), completely without aid, at the mercy of the sadistic id.
During one of the lift sequences (discussed later, in appendix 1.4.1), composition is used to leave Nell appearing completely powerless to an intimidating male figure. She grasps her basket tightly to her chest for comfort and protection. His appearance is somewhat stereotypical. Covered in tattoos with a skinhead, he loiters menacingly behind her. She is paralysed with fear and is unable to look at him. On closer inspection, whilst he is in the background he poses no real threat to her; he is simply trying to wind down after what seems to be yet another in a long line of arguments. However, when the lift stops he leaves before her moving very close into her personal space peering down at her basket. He hovers for a single intimidating moment. She remains completely still like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck, until he passes. Whilst his character proves innocent, his intentional breach of her personal space reasserts her lack of power, and the danger of the film.
Whilst Nell is among the more emotionally stable of the residents, a conversation reveals the underlying cause of her current anxieties. Three weeks previous to moving into the apartment her father died. Losing “the first man you ever loved,” as Julia describes it, has re-ignited on an unconscious level Nell’s previously resolved Electra complex. This instability puts Nell at risk of being devoured by the id.
B1.3.2 Charles Rooker
“Chad” Rooker, the oldest living resident of the Lusman Arms, first appears in the laundry room folding red clothes. He represents the superego, and has been in the building since before its creator Jack Lusman disappeared. His representation of the ego compliments the building as ego and Lusman as the id.
Speaking about Lusman and the building, Rooker says:
“He wanted it to be a getaway… for all the movie stars who shared his proclivities. But they’re fickle. Discard one fad just to embrace another. You can’t count on them for anything. Of course, it didn’t help that a lot of the guys who worked on construction here met a bad end.”
When Nell begins to panic about the missing Julia, Chad appears and says:
“The Lusman’s an odd bird… Buildings have personalities just like people. I’ve lived here for decades and haven’t figured out this one. Took me a long time to feel at home here. Now I can’t be anywhere else…
… All these changes, these renovations. They can’t be good. Opening the place up like a patient anaesthetised upon a table. Not good.”
“… It’s not about what can get in; it’s about what’s already here.”
It is Rooker who provides pivotal information to Nell, information he has been censoring as the superego until he deemed the ego to be ready. Nell, one of the first occupants of the building whom is not interested in becoming a celebrity, represents a breakthrough in the thoughts of the mind. As the other residents desired celebrity, they represented Lusman’s dwelling upon his past humiliations and the shunning of his building and his own company / friendship. The ‘getaway’ he intended the Lusman Arms to be has become his own tomb, he has regressed into himself. Thus, Nell representing a step forward for the ego has provided the opportunity the superego regarded as sufficient to pass on new information to the ego. Now it was time for the ego to find out the truth which it had repressed behind locked doors.
All Rooker’s comments about the Lusman Arms and indeed Lusman himself hint at self analysis and self criticism, entirely in fitting with his role as superego. His comments about “what’s already here” also indicates his role as superego – he knows exactly what is going on in all faculties of the ego and the id, and censors information to try to sustain stability. He acts as the archetypal mentor.
B1.3.3 Saffron
A volatile character, Saffron first appears as a symbol of Eros and Thanatos, Sex and Death. She appears wearing a red necklace and a short red skirt. Abruptly bursting into Nell’s flat, she completely invades her personal space. This symbolises the interruption of thought, and the invasion continues after she leaves the flat. This is because Nell can still hear her through the walls of her flat, arguing and having sex loudly with her partner. Even Saffron’s murder invades Nell’s space.
B1.3.4 Louis
Louis, the doorman, is a symbol of the ego’s defences from the outside world. He wears a red leather jacket, clothing made of death in the colour of bloodshed. He may provide security from the outside, but – as Rooker points out to Nell – the destructive thoughts and influences come from within. He refers to himself as a ‘stand in one place kind of a guy,’ hinting that Lusman’s defences from the outside world are not as strong as the façade would make believe. Indeed, the renovators managed to bypass the doorman and begin therapy. Louis is the public face of the ego.
B1.3.5 Austin
Austin represents the voyeuristic part of the self, the part which encourages the audience to go to the cinema. He invades Julia’s privacy by spying on her with a webcam and recording her undressing. When his voyeurism could have been of positive value, he might have saved her life; he is robbed of his chance to do so. His mother catches him spying on her, and forces him to turn off the monitor the moment before she is attacked. This is reminiscent of Freud’s theory of castration anxiety, as Austin’s source of pleasure has been cut off by his mother, which is the thing he feared most in the film’s opening act. Without the focus of his voyeuristic fixation he has no release, and now not only has his mother stopped him from viewing her, she has done so the moment his fantasy was to be enacted. The id has released the pent up fantasies Austin harboured towards Julia and destroyed the object of his projected desires. Austin being forced to miss his fantasies becoming reality is in fitting with the ego repressing antisocial desires. Indeed, when he finally sees the recording he becomes terrified, possibly because he had been imagining the event but could not cope with his desires.
B1.3.6 Julia
Julia first appears setting up a webcam to try and find love on the internet. She types, ‘A new me looking for a new you,’ on her computer in red text. The red text foreshadows her violent exhibitionistic death. Whilst she is extremely self conscious, she exhibits herself on the internet as a form of self control. She surrounds herself with leaflets about control, and exercises to an obsessive-compulsive level. Making constant references to her weight, she is the symbol of self loathing and criticism, of lack of self-acceptance.
B1.3.7 Lusman
Jack Lusman represents the patient undergoing therapy, though this analogy can be expanded upon to include society exorcising its own demons through social change. Building the Lusman Arms was not the escape it was supposed to be; instead he was building walls to stop outsiders from reaching him. The walls are as intellectual and emotional as they are physical. Locking himself away within hidden rooms in the Hotel, Jack has become the repressed id, seeking pleasure through the destruction of those who shunned him. The building itself, the Lusman Arms, has now become the manifestation of Lusman’s ego. The residents are Lusman’s thoughts, and one by one most of these thoughts are corrupted by Lusman’s corrosive id. His face is rotting; his body falling apart, Lusman’s id is a warped, sinister version of his old self.
B1.4 Motifs
B1.4.1 The Lift
The lift represents a vessel for thoughts to travel from one part of the psyche to another. Whilst the thoughts traverse the unstable mind, they become in great danger of being consumed by other thoughts or desires. The ease at which distraction can change a train of thought is represented here by the death of characters in the lift. At several points through the film, characters are placed at risk within the claustrophobic lift. Only the strongest thoughts survive the journey.
B1.4.2 Red
The colour red is used as a free motif throughout the film, often occurring strongly onscreen in the moments preceding a character’s death. It is also used to highlight the nature of the characters wearing the colour, for instance Saffron’s volatile personality. Used as a metaphor for danger, the reoccurrence of the colour helps keep the audience on edge.
B1.4.3 Symbolic Symbols
Throughout the Lusman Arms, cryptic symbols adorn the walls. These symbols are the final barrier between the building and the inner chambers of the id. Thus, they represent the puzzle which has to be solved by both the therapist and the patient in order for the psyche to be restored to normality. Nell writes the symbols on her arms, as she is the one who solves their riddle, and this understanding of Lusman’s psyche is what protects her from the final attack of the id.
B1.5 Violence towards and the degradation of women
The treatment of the violence towards and degradation of women in ‘The Toolbox Murders’ (Hooper, 2004), can be approached in differing ways. In accordance with the preceding metaphoric reading, the film’s approach to this subject centres on Lusman’s hatred of women. Another approach to this topic is the unconscious representation by the filmmaking team of the disrespect of women often prevalent in modern Western society.
To continue with the former analogy, analysing Lusman’s attacks on the various female residents reveals; that he is displacing the pent up aggression of his anxieties caused by his social castration. In the past he was rejected, publicly, by celebrities he hoped would spend their time in his hotel. Their rejection of the hotel was a rejection of him, leaving such a powerful impression that it caused him to regress into himself and shun the world. The resentment built until he became pure hatred, gaining sadistic pleasure from the horrendous pain he inflicts on others. This aggression is projected mainly at women, suggesting that he was hurt the most by the rejection he received from a woman.
The attacks made against women in the film all involve piercing, hard, phallic objects, for example; a claw hammer, a power drill and a nail gun. Lusman can now only achieve penetration through inflicting severe damage upon women; forcing himself upon them and raping their flesh with his substitute phallus.
It is common practice in horror films of this genre to have the evil male character utilize a phallic symbol to butcher women, until finally overcome by one of the female cast, as a way of symbolizing penis envy (Indick, 2004). However, this film does not allow the female, Nell, the opportunity to actually kill Lusman; instead he is gunned down by policemen. This allows for a very different reading of the treatment of women in this film.
For instance, the first victim is a female, who is initially shown with a symbol of phallic empowerment (a stun gun), is butchered whilst the weapon remains in her bag. Left unable to defend herself, she is easily overpowered and butchered by a man with a claw hammer. In most cases this would be a typical setup for a film in which the female lead eventually overpowers the male aggressor, in this film she does not. The film itself time and again shows women to be inferior, and entirely at the mercy of the all powerful men that surround them. Another example of this sexist view occurs through Nell’s husband. Not only does she require his aid to rescue her from Lusman, he always remains calm under pressure, and serves as a stereotypical macho hero and nothing else. A long montage sequence shows the lengths which Nell must go to in order to uncover the secrets of the building, yet it takes her husband only a momentary glance at the cryptic blueprints to know exactly how to find her.
Another strong example of the degrading treatment occurs through the voyeuristic sequences between Julia and Austin. Almost every time Julia is onscreen, the camera angles are intentionally voyeuristic. She is used as a sex object within the film, and butchered when the plot moves forward. Whilst she is spied on by both audience and Austin, he is not harmed in the film. This could be taken either as a comment about the sexualizing of women in the media, or as yet another in a long line of sexist, exploitative films.
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