Monday, June 13, 2011

Threatening Things Amidst the Unknown: the Complexity of Godless Monsters in the Modern Horror Film

 Threatening Things Amidst the Unknown: the Complexity of Godless Monsters in the Modern Horror Film 
By SJG


From the film, Let The Right One In.

    Orson Welles once said: “The camera…is much more than a recording apparatus, it is a means whereby messages from another world come to us, a world not ours, leading us to the heart of the great secret.” (qtd. in Lavery 52)  Film genre continues to posit and experiment with such parallel dimensions of the cinematic variety.  Each alternate universe seems to suggest the presence of aspects of our society’s inner workings that may have been previously ignored or overlooked.  Two genres in particular are quite straightforward about their keeping a critical eye on us ad nausea…drawing inspiration from the imitation or mirroring of what seems to illicit the most amount of fear.
    Arguably the genre of the first film ever shown at the Lumière brothers’ theater, the horror film’s relevance, though often criticized and- belittled, has persevered and flourished.  Foreign horror moviemaking corporations have realized success and critical acclaim in a film market practically monopolized by the overwhelming output of Hollywood studios.  Yet the genre’s appeal or entertainment value speaks to most kinds of people--anywhere regardless of one’s location on the globe.
    “It is the essence of the horror film, R. H. W. Dillard has observed, to teach ‘an acceptance of the natural order of things and an affirmation of man’s ability to cope with and even prevail over the evil of life which he can never hope to understand…’” (qtd. in Lavery 54)  This cathartic process is realized via viewing horror films that aim to : “‘…purge us of our fear of death by exposing us to death as we have never seen it before, by distorting the fact of death into all possible contortions to help us see its simple and natural reality.’” (qtd. in Lavery 54)
    Horror and noir are kindred film genres insofar as both transport the audience to a dark and uncertain reflection of the current human condition.  Despite various dissimilar qualities, both imply the presence of a threatening force.  A fated situation in which some nefarious ‘other’ has crashed in to the mix.  These threatening forces have been given a myriad of names, however between the two genres said forces are represented by symbols that differ significantly from one another.
    In horror films, majority of the time the force is that of a supernatural entity, that is inherently evil, and often associated with the satanic or another religious deity representing that which is maleficent.  Good and evil is very black and white…morality is far from ambiguous.  The horror film genre can be defined as: “…all films whose primary effect is to surprise, terrify, or alienate an audience by means of a narrative and cinematic techniques which are disorienting and aggressive, violent, or discomforting…” (Lavery 48)  Often with the film ending in a final showdown between good and evil, with one or the other ultimately prevailing.
    Whereas in film noir, the force is often that of ordinary people, perhaps even those closest to the protagonist, and their conspiring efforts.  Yet no one is necessarily innocent.  Good and bad come in never-ending shades of gray…morality is ambiguous to say the least.  Nobody ever really wins…the only kind of luck anybody seems to have is bad.  Nevertheless, the standard noir film’s ‘threat’ was ultimately grounded in reality; in other words, there was absolutely nothing supernatural or spiritual about it--this really could actually happen to you.  This was the result of film noir surfacing during a time (the 1940s) that was quite the contrary to the early days of the horror genre and filmmaking in general:  “The horror genre had arisen in a religious world, one concerned with the supernatural struggle between good and evil, but noir surfaced later, in wartime, during a transitional period in which we began to doubt the existence of God.” (Stephens 1)
    Within this shift, “The glimmerings of dread in horror films and their dark, expressionist style were fertile soil for the development of film noir…The pastoral Eden of belief--threatened, but inevitably sustained in horror films--vanished in film noir.” (Stephens 2) This led the generation of an entirely new body of character to react to impending doom in a more comparable fashion.  In other words, “The characters in noir films briefly held on to a few superstitions and vague notions about predestination, then settled for the pessimistic exercise of free will in an indifferent cosmos.” (Stephens 1)   


Movie poster for Let The Right One In. 

    The 2008 Swedish horror film Let The Right One In (Swedish: LÃ¥t den rätte komma in) is an archetypal noir-horror hybrid film.  On the surface, it is the story of a twelve-year-old Swedish boy named Oskar, a loner who is sadistically bullied by his classmates, meeting and forming a relationship with Eli, a vampire in the body of a twelve-year-old girl.  A seemingly standard horror narrative.  However, “It’s hard to remember the last time a genre movie enjoyed such widespread crossover appeal -- or the last time a ‘social-realist’ fable found such favour with the gorehounds.” (Kermode 2)
    The mise-en-scène stylization involved in Let The Right One In has the precision and subtlety of a film noir landscape, and it does so by employing more than a few of the genre’s visual trademarks.  Long takes, shot with a wide-angle lens mark classic noir films as well as crucial scenes from the film.  Setting and landscape never went unnoticed…with design elements locking characters images into the frames.  Interlocking bars and beams (often slightly transparent)s, particularly pronounced vertical and horizontal striping in the stark but striking European architecture, the bridges, the courtyard jungle gym, the interior design of Virginia’s apartment, and even within patterns on the character’s clothing. 
    The notion of being trapped--metaphysically, physically, intellectually, emotionally, etc. effects every individual involved, in some way or another.  From Eli being a creature trapped indefinitely inside of the body of a twelve-year-old girl…to Oskar being consumed by his loneliness, as his family conveniently neglects him and his peers viciously attack him.  To Eli’s bait and lure or stalk and strike method of hunting people using the confinement of the secluded bridge.  Eli trapped in the dark…Oskar trapped underwater…the corpse frozen in the ice.  Eli’s character, in realizing the jig is up and he is exposed even states out loud to himself: “I’m trapped.”  Right before splashing himself in the face with a corrosive acid so as to skew his identity and thus keep Eli safe from discovery by the authorities.
    Not to mention the importance of darkness: noir (literally meaning ‘night’ or ‘black’ in French) and vampire movies usually require copious use of the night as well as the power of night filming.  Shadows, lighting, and contrast speak volumes in respect to noir, even though such focuses may come off as being small decisions--matters of mere nuance.  Horror may tend to be more visually overt and structurally explicit, but noir is absolutely not…subtlety reigns supreme.  The noir landscape demands that the devil be in the details.
    The first scene in which we see Oskar (and many other scenes later on), we view him in a reflection of a pane of window glass in nothing but his underwear, with nothing but the thick, black night looming outside.  This ‘doppelganger’ effect angling reoccurs throughout the entire film.  Yet the fact that we view Oskar most often through panes of glass seems to be emphasizing his weakness - the fragile nature of his (and all adolescents) being that at this point in his life defines him.  It is as though we are consistently seeing him on display in a glass case--the sort of glass casing that is indicative of highly  fragile contents.
    Thematically, the film speaks directly to a noir sensibility: weakness, human nature, and the extent to which a person, a child even, is able to go, are all incorporated in a believable manner, despite Eli’s character being something supernatural…a “monster”
    Psychologically speaking, the film poses some challenging ideas.  Largely those surrounding children, the effects of neglect and torment, and their potential to create an angry and potentially violent child.  “The power of children to inspire pity and terror--because of their vulnerability, because of their uncontrollability--has once again moved to the cultural front, not least at the movies.” (31)
    Approval of Oskar and Eli’s relationship seems to be rooted in a real sort of necessity--when push comes to shove, both need each other to survive.  Perhaps, if the adults involved were not so incompetent and emotionally distant, the kids could have been protected from the mayhem associated with taking matters of life and death in to one’s own hands.  People, children much like Oskar’s bullies included, are capable of incredible amounts of cruelty…the film reminds us that vampires are most definitely not the only monsters out there…often, the most evil force at work is the human condition itself.
    Indeed, it is the careful juxtaposition of character traits associated with both film noir and the horror genre that lends Let the Right One In its versatility.  For instance, monsters (I.e. the supernatural, etc.) are often inherently perceived as being evil…while on the other hand, children are often inherently perceived as being innocent and good…so what is one to make of a monster that is also a monster.  Who also happens to feel remorse, despite her greatest ’wickedness’ being the need to take the blood (and lives) of humans for sustenance.  In fact, Eli does not kill for any reason besides nourishment, in self-defense, and in the saving/protection of Oskar’s life.
    Upon Eli meeting Oskar for the first time, the audience sees that she is able to acknowledge his intended kindness and respond to it--despite her severe hunger at the time.  As a monster of sorts, the value of human companionship and compassion is not beyond her.  This again becomes evident when Oskar offers her food that she eats, fully knowing that she will simply proceed to throw it right back up.  It is Eli’s willingness to try the food that displays her eagerness to connect with Oskar in a meaningful way.
    Much in accordance with a noir universe, the protagonists--children and monsters--are fittingly flawed: “Without the community of faith, many characters lived in isolation and their choices were no longer pure.  Even decisions made with good intentions were seen as limited by uncontrollable circumstances and compromised by individual imperfection.  The noir protagonist may not have been moral, but he or she was usually the best of a corrupt lot and felt the need to salvage something of human consequence from a tragic situation.” (Stephens 2) This notion is equally applicable to Oskar or Eli, making their ending up together genre abiding within the most genre bending context.
    Contrasting cinematic symbols cohabitating in characters who can not help but be tangled in an inescapable structure rife with the subtle impact every relationship has on a given community and overall public sphere; an inevitable process considering our survival’s dependability on us existing as social creatures.  In creating extreme variations of individuals who are each rife with contradictions much like those that exist all around us everyday, there is a mounting realism to Oskar’s world, despite the narrative’s dependence on a character that is entirely imaginary.  Somehow this simply seems to illuminate the ethical grey-areas that are at the center of what we, as conscious beings, fear the most.
    This balancing act supercharges the story’s potential for metaphorical  connections to be made that only an imagined world (very similar to ours…Sweden in the early 1980s) could possibly posit in such a way.
It is this paradoxical ‘universal outsider’ appeal which ultimately defines                     Let the Right One In, allowing it to be all the things I have just claimed that         it is not -- a great horror movie, a spine-tingling love story, a masterful             social-realist fable and (most ironically) a genre-defining vampire tract.  It             manages to be these things precisely because it is at once all of them and             none of them.  It is, in the very best sense of the word, a genuinely                 ‘difficult’ film. (Kermode 4)
    The relationship between noir and horror genre films of today has been increasing  becoming one that is symbiotic: both parties (I.e. genres) in the end are able to benefit from the stylistic conventions and creative contributions of the other.
        The noir influence stripped horror of its exclusively supernatural essence,             or at least made that quality ambiguous and less certain…In return, horror             made a contribution to film noir by elevating the crime film from its                 proletarian, semi-documentary origins to an often dreamlike, hallucinatory             style that infused the new genre with metaphoric powers it might otherwise         have never attained. (Stephens 8)
While in this particular film’s case:
        Let the Right One In…camouflages its evil in the shape of a young girl, and         raises questions about gender and sexuality other genres would find             difficult to grapple with, or even ask.  The value of horror is that it shreds             our complacency, exposes the dark heart of our fallibility, and forces us to             reckon with what we’d rather conceal.  Our monsters hold us                 accountable.” (“The Horror of It All” 1)
    Director of the film, Tomas Alfredsen, in reference to its subject matter stated: “If you torment a child…mostly you would see a drama with a tormented child, that he or she would be very sad…But this suggests that a tormented child would be very violent inside.” (from DVD - ‘Behind the Scenes’ interview)
    While one way in which to look at this concept is by acknowledging that:
        …in the world of Let the Right One In, and of the little monster subgenre             in general, the character [Eli] can be seen as much more than this: she is a             repository of adult fears about children, who are so like us yet in crucial             ways so different, who are both vulnerable and demanding, and in touch             with the id in ways that can elicit great anxiety and discomfort, especially             when sexual stirrings begin to take form.  Insatiability for blood is almost             too perfect a metaphor for the amorphous tyrants children can be.                 (Calhoun 27)
Whatever the case, horror-noir hybrid genre has just begun to produce films indicative of the collaboration’s lofty creative potential.  Let the Right One In makes for a superb starting point.
        It is this paradoxical ‘universal outsider’ appeal which ultimately defines             Let the Right One In, allowing it to be all the things I have just claimed that         it is not -- a great horror movie, a spine-tingling love story, a masterful             social-realist fable and (most ironically) a genre-defining vampire tract.  It             manages to be these things precisely because it is at once all of them and             none of them.  It is, in the very best sense of the word, a genuinely                 ‘difficult’ film. (Kermode 4)
So there it is, folks: a brand new way to be very afraid…


Scene from Let The Right One In. 






Works Cited
Calhoun, John. “Childhood’s End: Let the Right One In and Other Deaths of Innocence.”     Cineaste (2009).
“The Horror of It All.” Ed. By Gary Crowdus et al. Cineaste (2009).
Kermode, Mark. “IT IS WHAT IT’S NOT.” Sight & Sound 19.5 (2009): 34-36.     Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Web. 16 Apr. 2011.
Lavery, David. “The Horror Film and the Horror of Film.” Film Criticism.
Let the Right One In. Dir. Tomas Alfredsen. Perf. Kare Hedebrant, and Lina Leandersson.     Magnet Films, 2009.
Stephens, Bob. “Dark horizon.” Films in Review 47.1/2 (1996): 18. Academic Search     Premier. EBSCO. Web. 20 Apr. 2011.