A horror movie is more than a sequence of frame after frame, in the same way that a painting is more than just paint on a canvas. Our experience in viewing a painting is shaped by the artist’s use of light and shadow, by brushstrokes and textures, not to mention the past experiences and present emotional states that we bring into the viewing. While a horror film might not be considered fine art, it’s no less complex in how it delivers on its experience. In researching this book, I got to pick apart the elements that form the parts of a horror movie experience that are shared across audiences, whether that audience is made up of casual horror fans, genre diehards, or the squeamish ones who got dragged along for the show. Monster design, soundscaping, and editing are the brushstrokes, the technique. Cultural anxieties and personal fear responses bring in the context and nuance.
I don’t necessarily hope that this book changes how you watch horror movies. That’s like wishing for a distracting cinematic experience (as someone who once had a stranger light a butane lighter under my theatre seat while I was just trying to mind my own business and watch The Witch, I wish anyone who reads this only the best when sharing a movie with a roomful of strangers). I do hope that for some people Nightmare Fuel might deepen their appreciation for the genre, provide new points of interest with which to engage with horror, or maybe inspire them to dip their toes into a subgenre that they previously swore was off-limits.
One of the most exciting things about this book is that, while it’s finished, science isn’t done with learning about fear, human emotions, and horror movies. The body of research can only grow, and maybe someday we’ll uncover exactly why it is that we humans love to get scared.