Author: fourleafclover

What drew me to he text “The Nature of Horror” was the first sentence Noël Carroll writes, “–horror has flourished as a major source of mass aesthetic stimulation” (Carroll, 51). Even as I continued reading the text, I found several parts that caught my attention, including the fact that it was published in a journal called The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. I liked Carroll’s approach which goes beyond traditional literature to embrace horror in film, music videos, musicals, TV, and other artforms. The analysis highlighted horror as an aesthetic experience that captures both fascination and revulsion, a duality that made me rethink horror as not just a genre, but an art form capable of evoking deep and sometimes conflicting emotions. This resonated with my studies, particularly in film and gender, as it framed horror as a lens through which audiences confront and process fear, pleasure, and even societal anxieties. Carroll’s work helped cement my interest in analyzing horror, especially as I prepare my thesis on the connection of horror, gender, and generational shifts in the genre.

In horror, the characters’ reactions to monsters can serve as a blueprint for the audience’s own emotions. Carroll suggests that unlike in other genres, where viewer reactions may be ‘more ambivalent or open to interpretation’, horror provides clear emotional cues through the “positive human characters” who are often terrified, repulsed, or desperately trying to survive. This mirroring effect aligns audiences with the protagonists’ emotions, intensifying the fear and tension. One example being when a protagonist encounters a creature and recoils in horror, we, too, feel a visceral reaction, compelled by their fear to respond in kind. This connection between characters and audience establishes a direct and almost participatory relationship with the horror itself, as viewers are drawn into the narrative and prompted to experience the characters’ dread firsthand. This dynamic sets horror apart from other genres, where characters’ emotions may not always dictate audience response and t underscores the genre’s unique power to evoke empathy and psychological engagement through fear.

For a long time, I have been interested in how horror and thriller films have evolved through the lens of gender studies, especially the concept of the “final girl” introduced by Carol J. Clover. I want to focus on films from the 70s to the 90s, as well as those from the 2010s to today. I’m particularly drawn to the Alien (1979) franchise featuring Sigourney Weaver and the  Scream (1996) series, known for its meta moments and references to older films. l’ve also recently noticed a large amount of remakes and legacy sequels like Alien, Halloween (1978), and Scream. I find it fascinating to compare how technology and character perspectives have changed over the generations. I’m eager to explore these interests further and see what insights I can develop from them.

When I made this reading list, I prioritized texts that would create a balance of historical perspective, contemporary theory, and in-depth analysis of gender, particularly as it connecte to horror. My hopes are to focus on how generational shifts in horror cinema reframe classic tropes like the “final girl” and explore the evolution of gender representation. Clover’s work Men, Women, and Chainsaws and her essay “Her Body, Himself” are important to grounding my research in gender studies within the slasher genre. Clover’s insights into the “final girl” trope will be invaluable for analyzing Ellen Ripley’s place in the Alien franchise, which is central to my project.

I also think Stephen Scobie’s What’s the Story, Mother? specifically examines Ripley’s maternal role and the Alien franchise’s exploration of grief, gender, and trauma-topics that connect well with my focus on generational themes and horror’s capacity to engage with feminist discourse.

Balanzategui, Jessica. “The Child and Adult Trauma in American Horror of the 1980s.” The Uncanny Child in Transnational Cinema: Ghosts of Futurity at the Turn of the Twenty-First Century, Amsterdam University Press, 2018, pp. 35–66.

Clover, Carol J. “Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film.” Representations, no. 20, 1987, pp. 187–228.

Clover, Carol J. Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film – Updated Edition. REV-Revised, Princeton University Press, 1992.

Craven, Wes. Scream. Dimension Films, 1996.

Gillet, Tyler. Scream. Paramount Pictures, 2022.

Pinedo, Isabel. “RECREATIONAL TERROR: POSTMODERN ELEMENTS OF THE CONTEMPORARY HORROR FILM.” Journal of Film and Video, vol. 48, no. 1/2, 1996, pp. 17–31.

Terms:

• Postmodern
• Final girl
• Generational

The horror genre in film creates all sorts of perplexing forms of entertainment. Audiences willingly expose themselves to fear and discomfort, which has been a recurring motif for my selected texts. As a horror lover myself, I sometimes find myself asking the question “why do we seek out these horrifying experiences?” After searching for and reading different texts, I realized many of them focused on theories exploring the appeal of horror. One in particular stood out to me and delved deep into the topic. Katerina Bantinaki’s “The Paradox of Horror: Fear as a Positive Emotion” argues about the cognitive approach, which seems to suggest that curiosity and intellectual satisfaction of uncovering the unknown are central. And the emotional approach, which claims that the emotional responses drawn from horror are in fact key to enjoying the genre.

Noël Carroll, as discussed by Katerina Bantinaki, offers a cognitive explanation for the appeal of horror. One recurring motif in horror fiction which was discussed by Noël Carroll and referenced in Bantinaki’s work, is the idea of monsters as beings that lie, “outside our standing conceptual schemes” (Bantinaki, 384). This motif of the “other” (creatures that violate the boundaries of normal human experience) is significant since it connects with a universal cognitive drive to understand the unfamiliar. The horror genre repeatedly presents monsters that challenge our understanding of reality. From the alien in Alien (1979) to the demonic possession in The Exorcist (1973). These creatures embody both fear and fascination while their nature invites an audiences to engage intellectually as well as emotionally. Carroll’s argument highlights the cognitive pleasure of making the “unknown known” by suggesting that the primary draw of horror is found in curiosity. As Bantinaki explains, “the pleasure derived from horror fiction is cognitive” (384). This means that audiences are intrigued by the monster’s existence/behavior and they actively look for resolution through the narrative’s unfolding. The pattern of presenting a monstrous entity and then revealing its nature mirrors the process of scientific discovery where understanding and explanation serve as a reward for enduring the discomfort of the unknown. This recurring narrative structure can be seen across numerous horror texts and reinforces Carroll’s theory: horror is driven by human’s desire for cognitive clarity.

In contrast to Carroll’s cognitive approach, Katerina Bantinaki emphasizes the emotional responses horror provokes in its audiences. She suggests that it is this emotional engagement (not just curiosity) that lies at the heart of the genre’s appeal. A recurring motif in horror films is the intense emotional experience of fear and relief – emotions that fluctuate with the rise and fall of suspenseful sequences. This emotional rollercoaster is central to the audience’s experience since they are not only intellectually engaged but also emotionally invested. Bantinaki argues that “it is doubtful whether audiences indeed derive mostly cognitive and thus dispassionate pleasurable experiences in response to horror fiction” (384). The visceral fear experienced while watching a film like Jaws or Silence of the Lambs cannot be reduced to  cognitive process. Instead, the motif of emotional highs and lows plays a crucial role in the horror narrative. The pattern of building fear and releasing it through climactic moments is essential to the genre’s rhythm, which gives the audience a sense of catharsis as they confront and survive the threat alongside the characters.

Works Cited

Bantinaki, Katerina. “The Paradox of Horror: Fear as a Positive Emotion.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, vol. 70, no. 4, 2012, pp. 383–92.  

Carol J. Clover first introduced her book Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film back in 1992, followed by a second edition in 2015. During the 23 years that have passed between these publications, the landscape of horror films have undergone significant changes which complicated and thoroughly reworked her famous concept of the “final girl”. As new horror films emerge and older ones are revived through sequels, prequels, and remakes, the meaning of this trope continues to evolve and reflects both cultural shifts and the commercial reworking of the genre. And so, I decided to make my keyword “deconstruct” which was found and discussed in Rob Pope’s work Creativity: Theory, History, Practice. 

Ironically enough, the deconstruction of Clover’s arguments reflect the approach I am taking in my own thesis. Iconic horror films from the late 1970s, such as Alien (1979) and Halloween (1978), have seen a resurgence in popularity, particularly through their modern reboots and continuations. These recent adaptations reveal how filmmakers are “deconstructing” the narratives of the past as well as reflecting changes in gender dynamics, audience expectations, and genre conventions. Even more, classic films like Beetlejuice (1988), which originally sat outside the traditional horror category, have also been transformed. They have gained renewed attention, not just through film but through other mediums such as the Beetlejuice musical, which has gained popularity through social media.

The trajectory of horror (trajectory is one of the words I was thinking of using), from its fear-inducing roots to its current re-workings and revivals suggests an ongoing negotiation between nostalgia and innovation. This shift illuminates how cultural plasticity, an idea found in Pope’s Creativity: Theory, History, Practice-is at play, particularly within capitalist consumerism, where familiar narratives are rehashed and adapted for new audiences. “Here, by ‘deconstruction’ Bordo means that not only can we remove, replace or add on parts (as in a machine), we can also transform and develop the material itself (as in an organism). This new materiality she calls ‘cultural plasticity’; and the capacity – or claim – to mould it she attributes to ‘an ideology fuelled by fantasies of rearranging, transforming, and correcting, an ideology of limitless improvement and change, defying the historicity, the mortality, and indeed the very materiality of the body’ (p. 142). This ideology, as the rest of the essay makes explicit, is based on an economics of capitalist consumerism and is articulated through a notionally democratic politics of individual freedom.” (Pope, 48). Through their cyclical remakes and revisions, horror films offer a clear lens to explore how older ideologies are reworked to fit modern sensibilities, especially when it comes to the “final girl” and her symbolic resonance across generations. 

Works Cited

Pope, Rob. Creativity: Theory, History, Practice. Routledge, 2005. 

The French expression “mise-en-scene” involves carefully choreographed visual elements both on a theater stage and on camera. This can be seen in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window, who is known for his skillful use of manipulating the scene with character staging, lighting, camera angles, and positioning of props. All of these elements are what makes Hitchcock the “master of suspense”. By intentionally positioning the camera so L.B. Jefferies is shown to be on the far left side of the screen, this allows the audience to get a beautiful view of the sunset and distant skyline of the city (1:34:43). Not only do the vibrant orange hues of sunset stand out, the neighbors across the way is given the biggest focal point. In a way, Jeff seems to be overpowered by the apartments taking over the screen. With Jeff’s apartment being the primary setting throughout the entirety of the film though, it would seem like this is a new angle and focal point to add variety to the film. Either that, or Hitchcock’s mastery genius in the art of mise-en-scene is in play.

The scene where Jeff is sitting in the bottom left corner while the sunset and skyline dominate the frame is full of symbolism. Hitchcock’s composition visually reinforces Jeff’s isolation, powerlessness, and role as an observer. It also speaks to the larger themes of the film-voyeurism, the unseen tensions within everyday lives, and the passing of time. The background contrasts the sinister events Jeff is beginning to uncover, making the scene not only visually striking but also filled with narrative depth. Much like Jeff is physically trapped in his apartment, his placement within a smaller portion of the screen may symbolically trap him within the confines of the frame. As a photographer, Jeff is used to framing the world through his lens, and now the world is framing him, stuck in a moment he can only observe. Even the skewed perspective of Jeff in the corner versus the large background reinforces the idea that he is a passive spectator. The world around him is larger and more complex than what he can control or influence. His reduced size and position in the frame can also represent how powerless he feels in comparison to the world he’s watching. While he’s the protagonist, his position and situation suggests he is far from in control.

In relation to the reading “It’s Just a Movie”: A Teaching Essay for Introductory Media Classes by Greg M. Smith, the important argument that every single thing in the film has a purpose can be used here. Smith points out the argument that, “Even if something occurred on film without their planning for it, they make a conscious choice whether to include that chance occurrence. What was chance in the filming becomes choice in editing” (Smith, 128). Alfred Hitchcock is one of the most influential directors in the entirety of cinema, especially in suspense. He is human which means he made mistakes, but it is clear the visual appeal in each of his films are precise and meticulate enough to have to analyze and view in multiple viewings.

Works Cited

Hitchcock, Alfred. Rear Window. Paramount Pictures, 1954.

Smith, Greg M. “‘It’s Just a Movie’: A Teaching Essay for Introductory Media Classes.” Cinema Journal, vol. 41, no. 1, 2001, pp. 127–34.