Death in the Cinema: The American Attraction to Violent Movies
Crissy Cox

The subject of death is not one upon which most people focus during an everyday conversation. Death is in many ways taboo, and it is considered an uncomfortable matter to discuss. In American society, a lot of attention is placed on the preparation and burial of a body, but relatively little public grief is socially acceptable. One might even say that such elaborate preparations for the body are a way of making it seem alive, even in death, so that death does not ever have to be directly encountered. However, despite America’s aversion to “real” death, the glorification of death in the motion picture industry has always been accepted and even profitable. Movies with a lot of death, especially horror films, have existed since the birth of the movie industry, and they have always been very popular; many have even seeped into the mainstream popular culture, becoming “cult classics.” Thus, the question is, “Why is the fictional portrayal of death so attractive, when the reality of death is just the opposite?” Although death itself is not a topic relished by the American public, there is a certain fascination with the glorification of death that most likely has its roots in human nature.
The horror movie is a major fixture in the cinematic world, and it is also the most prominent type of film involving a great deal of death. There are many forms it can take; however, the basic motive is to scare people, and this terror usually takes the form of a fear of death. A masked murderer stalks women with a butcher knife, for example, or a mad scientist creates a monster bent on the destruction of the human race. The viewer’s fear of the characters’ deaths on-screen is generalized to his own life, forcing him to ponder, “What if that happened to me? What if I died like that?”

There are three basic types of threats in a typical horror movie: supernatural/ secular, external/internal, and autonomous/dependent, with combinations possible between the three. The supernatural/secular aspect focuses on whether the threat of death is of mythical or everyday origin; for example, a vampire would be supernatural, whereas a psychotic murderer would be secular. The external/internal characteristic involves whether the murderous action comes from within the individual or from an independent, outside source. For instance, the “murderer” may be demonic possession or disease in an internal situation and a monster or ghost in an external situation. Finally, the autonomous/dependent distinction is concerned with whether or not human activity is responsible for the threat of death; an autonomous threat (such as a psychotic) simply exists without being created by human design, but a dependent threat (such as a mad scientist’s monster) is a consequence of a human action (Tudor, 1989).

Resulting from these three types of horror movie threats are two kinds of fear, secure and paranoid. Secure fear is usually a product of a dependent threat: “There is rarely any sense that the monster will survive and prosper long enough to overwhelm the movie’s principal protagonists, let alone the whole of humanity, and our anticipatory involvement in both dramatic event and character always presumes secure narrative resolution” (Tudor, 1989). With secure horror, the viewer probably does not believe that there is a chance he might die in the same manner as the characters on-screen. However, paranoid horror may result from viewing a movie in which the threat of death is out of human control, as in the case of a psychotic disorder (an autonomous threat). A viewer with paranoid fear assumes that the condition is not resolved and that it is possible to experience a death like those occurring in the movie.

Since the establishment of the motion picture industry, horror films have held a place of their own in popular culture. The history of horror movies follows an interesting pattern that reflects society’s general fears of death in each period. The first horror films were Dracula and Frankenstein, both released in 1931. The subjects of these movies were monsters; in the case of Frankenstein, the killer was a monster created by an overambitious scientist. This fact reflects society’s fear at the time that death and destruction would result from rapidly increasing technology, a fear that would pop up again in the 1940s: “After World War II, movie producers changed the object of the terror from zombies, werewolves and mummies to mammoth insects and alien beings. These science fiction horror films appealed to the public because they vented fears of nuclear war and expressed a general mistrust of science and technology” (Sapolsky & Molitor, 1997).

In the 1950s and 60s, the Hollywood producers changed their view of the American audience and began to focus on teenagers: “Teenagers had money and leisure time; they soon became the core of Hollywood’s audience. Film producers recognized the enormous potential market for ‘exploitation teenpics’” (Sapolsky & Molitor, 1997). Therefore, the theme of horror movies began to shift from mad science to psychotic killers; a prime example is Alfred Hitchcock’s classic, Psycho (1960). However, Psycho was merely the tip of the iceberg in terms of “psychotic” horror films: “Though Psycho (1960), seen in terms of its subsequent impact, may well be the outstandingly influential film of this period, the most striking overall feature of the sixties, if not the seventies, is the consolidation of ‘madness’ as the prime horror movie expression of insanity” (Tudor, 1989). With the rise of psychotic movies (as well as an improvement in special effects) came the development of gore, epitomized in the 1963 film Blood Feast. Eventually, the combination of gore with psychotic features began to give rise to the “slasher” film, which would predominate in the 1970s and 80s.

The explosion of slasher films (also called “splatter” and “stalker” films) that occurred during the 1970s and 80s partially resulted from the fact that teenagers, for whom these movies were designed, were demanding more and better special effects: “As years passed, young audiences required that gruesome images become more intense and explicit for them to become scared” (Sapolsky & Molitor, 1997). Because of this demand, horror movies became much “meaner” than the early monster movies (Hunter, 1995). In fact, slasher movies have become an independent subgenre of horror films that usually incorporates the following characteristics:
Splatter movies . . . are those that (1) present gore in a gleefully extended form, giving the audience a good look at the anatomically realistic effects of violence, (2) seek to mortify the audience rather than to scare them or keep them in suspense, and (3) present mutilation as the only message of these often illogical and inconsistent films. (McCarty, 1981, cited in Dika, 1990)

In other words, slasher films are centered around often unexplained and always violent murders that are presented for nothing other than the sheer thrill of it. The demand for these types of movies may be a reflection of America’s desire at the time to “strike back” violently, a reversal of the desire for peaceful pacifism that had characterized the Vietnam War period: “Moreover, like the greater body of horror films made during this period, [the stalker film] presents a high level of violence and does so gleefully, irreverently, almost thumbing its nose at the outdated notion of pacifism” (Dika, 1990). The stalker film also served as a reminder of “real” threats, unlike previous horror movies in which the deaths portrayed were extremely unrealistic; death by a human murderer is more likely than death by a monster or alien, and Americans were becoming more aware of this fact in a time of war and violence:

The stalker film does not urge its audience to watch out for monsters from outer space, or, as did the science fiction film of the fifties, for alien forces that threaten our society. Instead, it explains to an insular community how self-awareness, a more conservative stance in personal and sexual matters, and (as did the Western) the readiness to use violence are once again the attitudes that will best ensure survival. (Dika, 1990)

One of the first slasher movies was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which was released in 1974. Since it was produced before the major onslaught of stalker movies that occurred later in the decade, it is not typical; however, it does involve the basic elements of a slasher movie, such as frequent, violent murders. Halloween (1978), based in many ways on Psycho, began the “stalker cycle.” It set the pattern for subsequent stalker movies because of its relative anonymity; it takes place in a fictional town, and there is not much character development for the killer, Michael. Most of the later slasher movies incorporate this anonymity. This feature makes the viewer feel as though the murders could happen to him (Dika, 1990). Halloween was followed by Friday the 13th (1980), which copied many of Halloween’s elements, and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). Both of these films spawned many sequels, which were simply variations of the originals.

In the 1990s and into the 21st century, the slasher film continues to remain popular. However, the genre is limited, and the plots of these movies are often very stereotyped and similar to one another. Examples of slasher films from this period include Scream (1996), I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), Urban Legend (1998), and Wrong Turn (2003). These films are patterned on the basic elements of the original stalker films developed in the late 70s and early 80s. Often, however, the newer slasher films are simply plotless displays of special effects designed to see how many people can be killed in creative ways: “Indeed, many of the youth-focused terrorizing narratives of recent years sacrifice almost all pretense to narrative coherence in favour of an accelerating sequence of shock effects – in Friday the 13th – The Final Chapter, no less than 14 killings in 91 minutes” (Tudor, 1989). However, the horror movie genre continues to expand; for example, the psychological thriller The Silence of the Lambs (1991) is partially a throwback to the psychotic movies of the 1950s and 60s, but it also has elements of a detective story. The Ring (2002) has the supernatural roots of a ghost story, as well as aspects of a stalker movie. Perhaps Cabin Fever (2002) is the most interesting because it possibly represents a shift towards “biological” horror movies, in which the fear of death comes from the fear of disease. This shift may be a reflection of America’s current fear of death and destruction by biological warfare.

Of course, horror movies are not the only films that incorporate large amounts of death, although they are the only ones where the actual focus is death. Other movies (usually in the action genre) also portray violent deaths, although they are usually a sideline to the plot. An extreme example of these violent action films are the movies directed by Quentin Tarantino, including Reservoir Dogs (1992), Pulp Fiction (1994) and Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003). Reservoir Dogs involves a band of men who try to commit the “perfect crime,” which backfires and results in a bloody ambush. Pulp Fiction is a series of interrelated stories about crime bosses, hit men, and drugs that portrays very graphic violence, including a scene in which a man is shot through the head in the backseat of a car so that his brains are splattered on the back windshield. However, the violent material is presented in a comedic manner; in Pulp Fiction, as critic Stephen Hunter explains, “Killing isn’t a sin; being uncool is” (1995). Kill Bill: Vol. 1, however, is by far the most graphically violent movie by Tarantino. Even the title implies its violent nature, and the plot holds true to the implication. Kill Bill is a simple revenge story in which Uma Thurman’s character (known only as “the bride”) sets out to slaughter everyone who tried to murder her four years earlier. The body count in this movie is staggering, probably coming close to one hundred (“the bride” kills an entire troupe of criminals known as the Crazy 88). By the end of the film, the viewer is almost completely desensitized to murder; however, because it is a revenge story, the murders seem justified.

Obviously, society has found many ways to represent death in the cinema, and the methods have varied over time. The motion picture industry has made a business out of glorifying death, even though death itself is not a popular subject:
. . . over time, social, religious, and medical changes made dying and death gradually withdraw from view; by mid-nineteenth century they became virtually invisible in most large metropolitan centers, especially in America and England. Oddly, this coincided with a long increase in images of death, driven in part by the development of photographic and publishing technologies. (Goldberg, 1998, cited in Trend, 2003)

Because of several factors, especially the development of medical technology, death is a more taboo subject than in the past. However, it is ironic that “real” death is such an aversive topic, while fictional deaths are so appealing; as Hunter points out, “We abhor the authentic stuff, and turn in national revulsion from it. Then we go pay seven bucks to watch it in Technicolor in the mall. In our heart of hearts, in our secret places, we crowd into dark, anonymous spaces and lose ourselves and our souls in its celebration” (1995). What is the source of this national fascination with violence, gore, and ultimately death?

Violent movies are not simply the brainchildren of Hollywood gurus that are forced upon the public to corrupt morals and values. Instead, they are objects that are sought out by society for entertainment: “Rather than blaming the entertainment industry for producing violent television, movies, and games, it is important to consider why demand for them is so strong. Like racism and sexism, the desire for violent representations is not a deviation from a social norm. It is the norm” (Trend, 2003). Several factors make cinematic death, especially in horror films, attractive. It reaches the dark, animalistic side of human nature that is rooted in using violence for survival: “The horror movie has been around for years, has undergone high periods and low periods, but has never really relinquished its grip on the blacker regions of the imagination” (Hunter, 1995). It also provides viewers with a way out of their own lives into a more exciting, even dangerous, world: “That’s one reason why stories – novels as much as films – will never die: In offering us a chance to enter another, more grandly imagined life, they also offer us a chance to forget the bitterness of our own smaller existences. It’s escapism in the best possible sense” (Hunter, 1995). In this world, viewers can predict what is going to happen but may still be shocked or frightened; in this way, they can vicariously live a different life with the characters. Andrew Tudor explains this phenomenon,

Occasional observers of horror movies have a nasty habit of asking why it is that there is always some poor misguided soul who opens the door to the cellar or to the attic or to the crypt when it’s quite clear that no sane person would even consider it. To the horror-movie audience, of course, the answer is obvious. It’s so we can sit there shrieking ‘don’t open the door’ secure in the knowledge that he or she is going to do exactly that. Contradictory though it may seem, this simultaneous desire for both danger and security is an element which is constitutive to our involvement with many horror-movie characters . . . (1989)

Many people argue that watching horror films and thus living this vicarious life is a method of catharsis, or releasing strong emotions in a passive way. However, this is usually not the case, although experiencing strong, primitive emotions is a strong attraction of the horror film:

Media do not enable viewers to become purged of anxieties or aggression. This is not to say, however, that violent media fail to deliver an emotional jolt. Many people enjoy the transitory shock or fear that such programming provides . . . People also are drawn to violent representations out of curiosity. Such images offer a way to learn about experiences that most people will never encounter. (Potter, 1999, cited in Trend, 2003)
Curiosity is, of course, a central part of human nature and thus its attraction to violent movies; it is the same reason people slow down on the highway to gawk at a wreck. Humans are curious about death because it is something that everyone must undergo, and although there is much hype surrounding it, no one actually knows what it is like. (The only ones who do know are dead, so they cannot tell about it.) The simple solution is to revel in portrayals of death, hoping to pick up some information along the way.

Psychoanalytically, the fascination with violent portrayals of death is a normal and even helpful process. The visions on the screen are a representation of what is occurring subconsciously in the viewer’s psyche, and the only way to resolve the conflict is to identify with the struggle: “Like Jung, Freud believed that people mature through their struggles with the violence inside them, and that narratives offer an important structure for this” (Zillman, 1998, cited in Trend, 2003). When this fact is generalized to an entire society, the types of horror movies that are present reflect that society’s inner fears of death: “. . . the ‘social fear’ hypothesis argues that horror films often serve as an extraordinary barometer of those things which trouble the night thoughts of a whole society” (King, 1998, cited in Trend, 2003). Therefore, everyone struggles with the same internal conflicts, so there is a unified attraction to violent representations. The famous horror novelist Stephen King agrees with terror’s universal appeal: “‘I think we’re drawn to it because we’re mortal, and we keep trying to fit our minds around this concept of dying. A lot of what horror is for me is a contemplation of the things that could go wrong” (cited in Hunter, 1995). Fear and mortality and death all become intertwined in the human attraction to violence, especially violence in which the individual does not actually have to take part.

If it is true that horror movies reflect society’s fears of death, then society’s greatest fears include psychotics and mad scientists; Tudor studied 990 films produced between 1931 and 1984 and concluded that the threat of death was by a psychotic in 28% and by the workings of a mad scientist in 17% of the films (1989). These two threats result in different kinds of terror: “Mad science is the price exacted for human knowledge, ambition and progress; horror-movie psychosis is deep-rooted human malevolence made manifest” (Tudor, 1989). Therefore, mad science can be controlled by human reason, but psychosis cannot; perhaps psychotic movies are the most popular because they result in a paranoid horror, rather than a secure horror.

Therefore, splatter films are the most prominent – and most popular – type of horror movie because it is logical to expect death in the movie. The splatter film is perhaps the rawest form of cinematic death, and it is the quickest way to satisfy the dark side of human nature (or at least the curious side). It allows the death-expecting viewer to participate in the horror process:
Since we know that the killer will definitely strike and that the victim will not get away, only the questions when? where? and, ultimately, how? become those posed to the viewer. Thus reduced and conventionalized across the cycle, these conditions involve the viewer in a play of expectations with the film. The viewer’s involvement is participatory, as he tries to guess the outcome and eagerly awaits the final jolt supplied by the inflicted wound. (Dika, 1990)

However, this predictability and the viewer’s omniscience does result in some criticism of the slasher movie, which says that the killer is all scare but no depth:
The conceit of the classic slasher film is to make the camera – that is, you – the slayer. Its secret appeal is to give you the thrill of the kill without the risk. In deeper terms, however, the psycho is simply the blank force of the irrational in the universe: He kills without meaning, like a turnpike blowout or a rooftop sniper or an icicle falling off the roof. He’s simply an emblem of the universe’s cruelty if it discovers you in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s always scary but never interesting. (Hunter, 1995)

Therefore, the killings become meaningless, and the plot (which is based entirely on these killings) becomes meaningless as well. However, the argument remains that movies are not supposed to be real, and that they should be enjoyed for what they are: “The assertion is often made that violence in the media is becoming increasingly graphic and ‘real,’ but in fact the opposite is taking place. Part of what makes media violence appealing to viewers is the extent to which it is aestheticized and transformed by production technologies . . . This aestheticization of violence makes it tolerable and enjoyable” (Trend, 2003). Therefore, violence and death become an art that is considered separate from the “real thing.”

Death in films has existed since the birth of the industry, and there is no reason to believe that it will not continue. However, the portrayal and glorification of death in the cinematic arts is not necessarily a bad thing. It sates the human nature’s subconscious thirst for violence and curiosity and helps the viewer come to terms with the concept of death, a subject that is usually avoided. “Real” death and “reel” death are two different things, but they do contribute to each other in many fascinating and attractive ways.

Works Cited

Dika, V. (1990). Games of Terror: Halloween, Friday the 13th, and the Films of the Stalker Cycle. Cranbury, NJ: Associated University.

Hunter, S. (1995). Violent Screen: A Critic’s 13 Years on the Front Lines of Movie Mayhem. Baltimore, MD: Bancroft.

Sapolsky, B.S. & Molitor, F. (1997). Sex and Violence in Slasher Films. In A. Wells & E.A. Hakanen (Eds.), Mass Media and Society. Greenwich, CT: Ablex.

Trend, D. (2003). Merchants of Death: Media Violence and American Empire. Harvard Educational Review, 73(3), 285-308.

Tudor, A. (1989). Monsters and Mad Scientists: A Cultural History of the Horror Movie. Cambridge, MA: Blackwell.

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