Horror versus Terror in the Body Genre1

[T]error is of violence, of the violence I might do

or that might be done to me.
I can be terrified of thunder, but not horrified by
it (Schneider, quoting Cavell; 2000:168).

1. Introduction
The horror film as a genre has always held a certain fascination for both
audiences and scholars alike. The content of the horror film is often explicit,
brutal and intimate; both repulsive and fascinating. Yet the genre is not welldefined and often serves as a blanket term to denote any film that contains
gruesome violence, or causes fear and terror. It is therefore necessary to
differentiate between films that merely deal with violence and terror, and true
horror films. As Devendra Varma (19662) indicates, horror and terror are not
synonymous.
The difference between Terror and Horror is the difference between awful
apprehension and sickening realization: between the smell of death and stumbling
against a corpse.
Horror [as] a genre of film and fictionrelies on horrifying images and situations to tell
stories and prompt reactions in [its] audiences. In these films the moment of horrifying
revelation is usually preceded by a terrifying build up

The horror film has the ability to tap into mans primal fears, thus eliciting the
desired response through its use of horrifying images and situations.

Linda Williams proposed notion of the Body Genre encapsulates three major genres that deal
with excess and sensation Pornography, Horror and the Melodrama.
2
Quoted on Reference.com

The audiences reaction to the violence on the screen is testament to the horror
films accurate portrayal of the beast within us all. The terror is experienced in
the development of suspense and the fear of the unknown.
The horror is manifested through the unknown becoming the known, and the
fear being realised.
The conventions of the horror film delve into our fears and bring to the surface
the degeneracy of the human mind. We are confronted with images of violence
and the unnatural; images that disgust us. Yet, we cannot turn our gaze from
the screen. It is this tenuous balance between revulsion and fascination that is
innate to the horror genre.

This article seeks to investigate this balance and to interrogate the difference
between horror and terror in an attempt to contribute to the development of a
systematic genre typology. A brief history of the genre will be given, after which
the focus will fall on contemporary Horror film, paying specific attention to the
relationship between violence and horror, the theme of sacrificial violence, and
the transgression of natural laws. An eclectic approach is followed, drawing from
literary theory, theology, psychology, and, of course, film theory3 .

Linda Williams has developed the notion of the Body Genre, a concept that
encompasses three film genres, which are defined by their promise to be
sensational, to give [the body] an actual physical jolt (1999:701). According to
3

Film studies, being a young discipline with its roots in language departments at universities
during the 1960s, takes its theoretical base from many disciplines in the Humanities and Social
Sciences.

her, the categories gratuitous sex, gratuitous violence and terror, [and]
gratuitous emotion are frequent epithets hurled at the phenomenon of the
sensational in pornography, horror, and melodrama. She goes on to explain
that the sensational aspect depends on the spectacle of a body caught in
the grip of intense sensation or emotion ()The body spectacle is featured more
sensationally in pornographys portrayal of orgasm, in horrors portrayal of
violence and terror, and in melodramas portrayal of weeping (Williams,
1999:703). This notion of the body spectacle is inherently part of the Body Genre
theory, and will be explored in an attempt to explain the fascination that the genre
holds for normal audiences and scholars alike.

Three contemporary Horror films will be discussed, namely The Texas Chainsaw
Massacre (Hooper, 1974), A Nightmare on Elm Street (Craven, 1984), and Saw
(Wan, 2004). In these discussions, the investigation into the relationship
between violence, terror and horror, the transgression of natural law in terms of
biological classification and ideology, and the concept of sacrificial violence4 will
be of key importance. The importance of the role that the sacrificial object be
it animate or inanimate plays in the horror film shall also be discussed.

2. A Brief Historical Overview of the Horror Genre

The horror genre, according to Jordaan (1997:57-59), can be traced back more
than two centuries, and has adapted and mutated along with mans view of the
4

Girards (1986) theory on sacrificial violence will be adapted in an attempt to explain audiences
fascination with violence in the context of the horror genre, in particular regarding the notion of
transgression of the natural order of things.

world and his place in the universe. During the time of the Ptolemaic system,
man believed that the Earth was the centre of the universe, and that Heaven and
Hell were concrete places that existed either above the Earth (Heaven), or below
the crust (Hell), confined to the darkness that was the Earths core. Heaven (the
good) could be allowed into mans soul; it could be internalised. Hell (the
evil), on the other hand, had to remain external, not allowed in. Copernicuss
revolutionary theory that the Earth was, in fact, not the centre of the universe,
and the Hell did not exist within the core, brought the concept of good and evil,
of Heaven and Hell, closer to home. Hell became, according to Jordaan
(1997:57), more subjective and personal, and was experienced more internally.
Hell became situated in the mind.
Gradually[hell] came to be located in the mind; it was part of a state of
consciousness. This was the beginning of the growth of the idea of a subjective, inner
hell, a psychological hell; a personal and individual source of horror and terror, such as
the chaos of a disturbed and tormented mind, the pandaemoniumof psychopathic
conditions (Cuddon; 1991:419).

During the 16th and 17th Centuries, the focus of art and literature fell upon
physical horror, with an emphasis on blood hence this period was, according to
Jordaan (1997) known as a bleeding period. The horror story, when conceived,
focused on two specific directions, which Jordaan describes as:
[D]ie profane drama waarin dit uitsluitlik om die mens teenoor n wreldlike mag gaan,
en die martelaarsdrama waarin die gruwels en folteringe n religieuse perspektief kry
(1997:58).

During the 18th Century, the horror genre seemed to disappear, perhaps due to
the uprising of the neo-classic period, which, according to Jordaan (1997), was
the era of reason. However, during the 19th Century, the horror genre
resurfaced, due to the works of the graveyard poets, whose material focused on
the dead, death, corpses and tombs. From the works of these poets, the notion
of the Gothic Novel developed, which focused on the binary opposites of good
and evil. This view was, needless to say, one-dimensional, and created a dream
state, to which its readers could escape, and from where they could leave, thus
returning to their normal lives afterwards. This was the state of the classic
horror films. According to Jordaan (1997), the development of the horror genre,
after the conception of the Gothic Novel, has moved away from binary opposites,
and finds itself within a grey area neither good nor evil, neither dream nor
reality. This is the current state of the contemporary horror film the boundaries
between the binary opposites have been skewed. There is no longer a
distinction between dream and reality; between real and imagined; between good
and evil.

3. The Contemporary Horror Film in Relation to Classic Horror

When one is required to name a Classic horror film, titles such as Dracula
(Browning, 1931), Frankenstein (Whale, 1931), Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
(Robertson, 1920), and The Curse of the Werewolf (Fisher, 1961), are perhaps
some the first to enter ones mind. These films are modernist, pre-1960s fare,
which deal with universal horror topics such as the drinking of blood, sexuality;
playing God; schizophrenia; and the blurring of the boundaries between human
5

and animal. Many of the themes that were common in the Classic horror films
are still prevalent in the contemporary Horror films of today. As John C. Lyden
(2003:228) notes:
All horror films, classic and modern, wrestle with the continued existence of evil in the
world and allow the viewer to wrestle with this fact as well.

Yet, there has been much change in the manner in which these themes are
represented in contemporary horror, in particular regarding the portrayal of
graphic, explicit violence in contrast to the suggested violence in the Classic
horror film.

Another marked difference exists in terms of the underlying world view, as

Pinedo (1997:94) explains:
[In the classic horror film], [g]ood triumphs over evil; the social order is restored. In
contrast, the [contemporary] paradigm blurs the boundary between good and evil,
normal and abnormal, and the outcome of the struggle is at best ambiguous. Danger
to the social order is endemic.

The classic horror film provides closure, the transgression of the natural order is
corrected, life resumes meaningfully. The end of the film provides resolution
and audience satisfaction that the horror has been dealt with; the Vampire shall
not awaken again, Frankensteins Monster shall not rise from the grave. The
audience is able to leave the cinema, comfortable with the notion that all is well.

The contemporary horror film, on the other hand, does not allow the audience the
opportunity to escape into a world of horror, and then return to their normal lives
within a normal social order afterwards. Rather, it takes them into their own
world, and exposes the terror5 implicit in everyday life: the pain of loss, the
enigma of death, the unpredictability of events, the inadequacy of intentions
(Pinedo; 1997:106). Regarding my notion that a changed world view underlies
differences in modes of representation and themes vis-a-vis classic and
contemporary horror genres, Pinedo (1997:87) argues that contemporary horror
is a postmodernist project which is the result of the cumulative repetitive
historical stresses including the Holocaust, Hiroshima, the Cold War, Vietnam,
and antiwar movement, and the various liberation movements associated with
the 1960s: civil rights, black power, feminism, and gay liberation.

The typological elements of contemporary Horror can be theorised to have

originated in our postmodern society that is characterized by frustration,
dissatisfaction, anxiety, greed, possessiveness, jealousy, [and] neuroticism
(Wood, 2002:25). And, one would add, the pervading sense of
meaninglessness, the lack of a master narrative.

4. The Difference between Terror and Horror

Pinedos themes of death, loss and unpredictability are evident in the three
contemporary horror films under discussion, especially in the film Saw (Wan,

Pinedo does not adequately differentiate between terror and horror. In the context of the
argument that I shall develop, terror should be interpreted as horror in this quote.

2004). Herein, the victims or captives of the vigilante serial killer, known only as
Jigsaw, are abducted against their will and placed within impossible situations
where they need to redeem themselves from the wrongs that they have
committed, according to Jigsaw. He sets out a series of tasks that need to be
completed, yet these tasks are virtually impossible to complete, and therefore
lead, in most cases, to the death of the victim. The victims are exposed to the
pain of loss and the enigma of death the loss of their own lives (or of those
close to them), and the enigma of their own impending death. Saw highlights the
difference between terror and horror in the sense that the victims are aware; they
are terrified of what they are about to do, or what is about to be done to them.
Real danger is imminent, and there are, indeed, fatal consequences for them.
The horror is the realization that they have no choice; the victim who realizes that
he has to saw off his own foot in order to escape the shackles, embodies the
sense of horror in its purest form: he has to commit a violent act upon himself, in
order to prevent further violence from occurring, and he has to sacrifice a part of
his body a part of himself in order for the rest of his body to survive. The
audience also experiences a sense of horror, in the sense that, although they
cannot be harmed by what is happening on the cinema screen, there is the belief
that such degeneracy is possible in the postmodern society in which they find
themselves.
Horror resides in the transgression of the natural order of things. Since the
natural order is circumscribed by ideology, it stands to reason that it has

metaphysical as well physical dimensions. Hopper (2001) distinguishes between

supernatural and natural horror:
Two types of horror exist - supernatural horror, and a horror which is not supernatural,
but based around the horrors of our real world hate, murder, cruelty.

This is certainly true of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Hooper, 1974) which
deals with very real, very tangible acts of depravity committed by humans on
other humans. A family of redneck cannibals commits unspeakable acts of
violence and depravity on a group of teenagers who stumble upon their house.
The backwaters cannibal family once ran a swine abattoir, until it went bankrupt;
now, instead of butchering pigs, they butcher people. The characters
experience terror when Leatherface chases after them; the audience experiences
rising apprehension and fear that culminates in loathing and horror when he
amputates, decapitates, and/or eviscerates the young adults in gratuitously
violent scenes, filled with gushing blood and manic screaming of both the
victims and the chainsaw, grinding through their bones. The horror resides in the
depravity of the acts, the transgression of the moral order of society, and the
realization that it is a potential reality, given the realities of contemporary society.

The Classic horror film emphasized the importance of appealing to its

audiences imagination. There was hardly any gratuitous, explicit violence in
either Dracula (Browning, 1931) or Frankenstein (Whale, 1931). The violence
was implied, the audience was not shown what happened; they were, in a way,
told. Curtis Harrington (1952:15) states that, with reference to the Classic

horror film, you must only suggest horror; you cannot show it, or at least, if you
do, it must only be momentarily, for you cannot sustain it. It is the audiences
own imagination, skillfully probed, that provides, out of its well of unconscious
fear, all the horror necessary.

The appeal of the Classic horror film was (and still is) its power to allow its
audience members free reign within their imaginations. Everyone harbours a
host of weird and wonderful images in his or her private mental dreams of
anxiety. Maybe the uncanny, intriguing power of horror films helps exorcise what
William Blake called these specters around us, night and day (Hill, 1958:52).
The contemporary horror film seems to take those thoughts and images from our
imaginations and represent them in gruesomely explicit detail. No longer are we
prevented from looking into the abyss of human psychopathology by social
mores and censure, instead we are encouraged to explore it in detailed graphic
representation. In this regard Robin Wood (2002:30) notes:
[Horror films] are our collective nightmares, () the conditions under which a dream
becomes a nightmare are that the repressed wish is, from the point of view of
consciousness, so terrible that it must be repudiated as loathsome, and that it is so
strong and powerful as to constitute a serious threat.

Our imaginations are most active during our dreams, and when our dreams
revert to nightmares, we experience terror and horror. We awake, and are still
haunted by the images that invaded our private dreams. We are unable to
control what we dream, and unable to prevent images and thoughts from the id to

10

enter our consciousness. The postmodern horror film exploits this, and its horror
is rooted in this: true horror is waking up in the middle of a scream and realizing
that the nightmare did, in fact, occur. The cinema is similar to a dream-like state,
plunging the audience into darkness, and dominating their senses with its images
and sounds:
The moment you put out the light, man reverts to the primitive. What is the cinema?
Its the place where the lights are put out. Enjoyment of horror is one of the deepest
things. Electric light cant kill horror any more than it can kill a nightmare. And do you
know what the worst horror is? Its when you switch on the electric light and the ghost
is still there. (Fisher; 1964:67).

As previously noted, the contemporary horror film does not allow its audience the
satisfaction of a happy ending, or any closure at all. [N]ot only do [Horror] films
tend to be increasingly open-ended in order to allow for the possibility of
countless sequels, but they also often delight in thwarting the audiences
expectations of closure (Modleski, 2000:289). Isabel Pinedo (1997:99-100)
echoes Modleskis sentiment:
() violating narrative closure has become the rigueur for the genre. The film may
come to an end, but it is an open endingAlthough in the end the monster appears to
be vanquished, the film concludes with signs of a new unleashing; the apparent triumph
over the monster is temporary at best. Evil prevails as the monster continues to disrupt
the normative order.

11

The audience leaves the theatre feeling unsatisfied; they have not received
closure, the nightmare is still haunting them. Except, this nightmare is
experienced during the waking hours, not during sleep, echoing the premise of
the postmodernist horror film that dream is no longer discernable from reality;
more, that dreamed objects can attain a physical presence in the real world. One
then needs to ask: How do you wake up from a nightmare when you are not
asleep?

Jordaan (1997) explores this postmodernist6 aspect of the contemporary horror

film in an article that traces the concept back to Apuleius The Golden Ass (1566)
and shows how A Nightmare on Elm Street (Craven, 1984), considered to be one
of the first of a string of postmodern horror films that exploit the blurring of the
boundaries between dream and reality. In the Golden Ass, the main character,
Aristomenes, and his friend, Socrates, spent the night in an inn after a long
journey. They spent the evening discussing Socrates experiences with a witch,
and practitioner of black magic; a woman named Meroe. Aristomenes made the
dreadful mistake of insulting the witch, to which Socrates chastised him: Peace,
peace, I pray youTake heed of what you say against so venerable a woman as
she is, lest by your intemperate tongue you catch some harm (1566:15).
Consequently Socrates fell asleep, but Aristomenes was frightened by his
remark, and had difficulty falling asleep due to the great fear which was in [his]

Many so-called postmodernist characteristics of contemporary texts can actually be traced to

classic texts. For example, Laurence Sterne, in The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy,
Gentleman (1759), uses many postmodernist ploys, such as blank pages, entirely black pages,
etc.

12

heart (1566:21). He closed his eyes for a moment at approximately midnight,

but was awakened by the violent entrance of Meroe, and her sister Panthia,
bursting open the doors of the inn and causing Aristomenes and his bed to turn
over, resulting in him lying under the overturned bed, like unto a tortoise
(Apuleius, 1566:21). Panthia wished to kill both Socrates and Aristomenes, but
Meroe had a more horrid idea: Nay, rather let [Aristomenes] live, to bury the
corpse of this poor wretch [Socrates] in some hole of the earth (1566:21).
Meroe then began performing her black magic upon Socrates.
[Meroe] turned the head of Socrates on the other side, and thrust her sword
up to the hilt into the left part of his neck, and received the blood that gushed
out with a small bladder, that no drop thereof fell besidethen Meroethrust
her hand down through that wound into the entrails of his body, and searching
about, at length brought forth the heart of [Aristomenes] miserable companion
Socrates, whogave out a doleful cry by the wound, or rather a gasping
breath, and gave up the ghost. Then Panthia stopped the wide wound of his
throat with [a] sponge and said: O, sponge sprung and made of the sea,
beware that thou pass not over a running river. This being said, they moved
and turned up [Aristomenes] bed, until then they strode over [him] and staled
upon [him] until [he] was wringing wet (1566:23-25).

Meroe and Panthia disappeared as mysteriously as they appeared, and

Aristomenes was left frightened, confused and soiled. He feared that he would
be charged with his friends murder, and therefore attempted to hang himself.
Unfortunately the rope broke, and he landed on Socrates, who, to Aristomenes
great relief, awoke. However, when Aristomenes embraced Socrates, he was
pushed away, because Socrates smelled the stink wherewith those hags had

13

embrued [him] (1566:31). In the morning, the two friends left the inn, and during
their journey they discussed their strange dreams. Socrates confirmed that he
too dreamed this night that [his] throat was cut and that [he] felt the pain of the
wound, and that [his] heart was pulled out of [his] belly, and the remembrance
thereof makes [him] now to fear (1566:33). They stopped underneath a large
tree for breakfast and rest. Aristomenes scrutinized Socrates neck, but saw no
sign of his wound or the sponge. Socrates stated that he was thirsty, and
Aristomenes saw behind the roots of the plant-tree a pleasant running water
which went gently like to a quite pond, as clear as silver or crystal (1566:33).
Socrates kneeled down by the side of the bank in his greedy desire to drink;
but he had scarce touched the water with his lips when behold, the wound of
his throat opened wide, and the sponge suddenly fell into the water and after
issued out a little remnant of blood, and his body (being then without life) had
fallen into the river, had not I caught him by the leg, and so with great ado
pulled him up. And after that I had lamented a good space the death of my
companion, I buried him in the sands to dwell forever there by the river
(1566:35).

The story of Aristomenes and Socrates can be closely linked to that of A

Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), as the evil that is committed during the dream
has a direct impact on the living body in the real world. The victims are terrified
to fall asleep. The true horror is that awful realization that you are, in fact,
asleep, and you are unable to awake from your dream unless the monster is
vanquished, or you are killed.

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5. Violation of the Natural Order

The violation of the natural order has already been touched on in my discussion
of the postmodernist horror film in which the natural distinction between the realm
of the mind and the real world is suspended or transgressed. The transgression
of the natural order also refers to the transgression of moral and religious codes
(e.g. in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre where incest and inbreeding lead to
dementia and depraved acts of violence). A third transgression of the natural
order is as old as the genre itself: the transgression has a physical presence as
the body of the monster. The monstrous body conjures up images of the
Vampire, the Ghoul, the Werewolf, and the Psychopath. No matter how diverse,
how original the monstrous body is presented and represented, one cardinal
criterion applies: some form of transgression of the natural order lies at the
centre of its existence as monster. Very often the moral transgression or, if you
will, the transgression at the level o the psychopathological, is concretized, made
physically present, in the body of the monster. The power of the monster is
embodied in its otherness, physically or psychologically. The monster is a
physical representation of transgression of the natural order, and represents all
that is repulsive, all that is offensive, as it cannot (and will not) submit to reason
or rationale:
Horror exposes the limits of rationality and compels us to confront the irrational. The
realm of rationality represents the ordered, intelligible universe that can be controlled
and predicted. In contrast, the irrational represents the disordered, ineffable, chaotic,
and unpredictable universe that constitutes the underside of life. In horror, irrational
forces disrupt the social order (Pinedo, 1997:94-95).

15

Human nature is such that we cannot function in a chaotic, disordered world.

Humans need rules, boundaries and definitions of normal. Anything that
disrupts these definitions of normal is seen as something else; something other
than normal; something abnormal. Schneider, quoting Douglas, states that
[M]onstersare unnatural relative to a cultures conceptual scheme of nature.
They do not fit the scheme; they violate it (2000:177).

Yet, it is the human mind that wishes to be free from the rules and boundaries.
The Monster in the Horror film represents our own need to be free, to break the
chains that hold us and be unleashed upon those who placed the shackles
around our feet in the first place. The other is, in fact, within us; it is part of who
we are this is perhaps why monstrous depictions of otherness are so
disturbing; we cannot stand to see our anarchic selves portrayed on the screen.
Horror tends to concentrate on another type of Other, an Other which is very
familiar and because of that much more frightening, an Other which is rooted in
our psyche, in our fears and obsessions (Ursini, 2000:4). We experience horror
when we contemplate how the world would be if humans allowed their anarchic
selves free reign. True horror is felt when the monsters on the screen embody,
and act out, our anarchic fantasies.

The monster displaces our own beliefs and understanding of the natural. It
creates disorder in an otherwise ordered world. Stephen Neale (1980:20) states:

16

[t]he monster, and the disorder it initiates and concretises, is always that which
disrupts and challenges the definitions and categories of the human and the
natural[I]t is the monsters body which focuses the disruption. Either disfigured, or
marked by a heterogeneity of human and animal features, or marked by a non-human
gaze, the body is always in some way signalled as other, signalled, precisely, as
monstrous.

Examples of the monsters disrupted body can be found in The Texas Chainsaw
Massacre (Hooper, 1974), as Leatherface disfigures himself by wearing a mask
of human skin. Freddy Krueger, from A Nightmare on Elm Street (Craven, 1984),
has burned skin covering his entire body, which seems to be oozing with a clear,
viscous fluid. His hand is disfigured by the bladed glove that he wears he most
certainly is monstrous. Jigsaw represents himself as a puppet in Saw (Wan,
2004), thus removing any hint of his humanity and disrupting his victims
perception of him, because his is watching them through a non-human gaze.
The Jigsaw killer is, in fact, a monster that tries to restore order; he is attempting
to restore balance by punishing the wicked (his victims) for their sins. In
essence, he has taken on the role of the avenging angel, the restorer of order.
Yet, in his victims minds and lives, the natural order has been grossly disrupted,
and the killer is still perceived as the monster, he who challenges the bounds of
the natural and the human.
The monster is represented in many forms, for example the psychopath, the
shape-changer, or the alien, to name but a few. Most of the forms in which the
monster is manifested are abominations; repulsive, and not natural. The

17

monster embodies the unnatural. In its broadest sense, unnatural can also
refer to our concept of right and wrong. Murder is wrong is it therefore
unnatural? Yet, not all murder depicted in film is part of the horror genre. What
differentiates murder in a cops-and-robbers film from murder in a horror film?
Murder in a cops-and-robbers film is justified; it is allowed, and legitimate.
There is a reason behind the violence and killings, and the audience is able to
rationalize the brutality. In contrast, there is no reason behind the monsters
carnage; the audience does not feel relieved when someone (or something) is
hacked, stabbed, beaten, eaten, or bitten to death. Even when the monster
meets its grisly demise, there is no sense of closure; there is no satisfaction. The
true horror is the irrationality behind the murder and the violence the unreason.
One cannot rationalize with the monster. It is impossible to reason with it, to
negotiate the extent of its murderous rampage. The monster simply is; it simply
exists within a paradigm which (whether we like it or not) is a mirror image of the
hideousness of the human mind. The monster, which is situated specifically in
the mind; namely schizophrenia in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Robertson, 1920),
madness and derangement, and psychopathology in Saw (Wan, 2004), is
particularly terrifying because the unwitting victim is mostly unaware of his/her
tormentors mental affliction.

Physically, there is usually no distinction between the psychopath and a normal

human being it is in the mind that the horror dwells; it is in the mind that the
monster lives.

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Monsters and vampires, man-made creatures and ghosts, mob cruelty and murderers,
these are the stock ingredients of horror, and most of them have been handled on
occasion with sufficient imagination to lift the result above the category of mere
sensationalism. All such terrors, however, are seen from a distance, approaching us
from outside ourselves. Our own feet rest on firm groundBut when the mind is the
actual stuff of horror, when madness and collapse are presented from inside, rather
than viewed from without, then the solid ground itself shifts and crumbles, and we do
indeed find ourselves looking into a bottomless pit (Butler, 1967:77).

The manner in which monsters violate the natural conceptual scheme of nature
takes many forms, some of which can be identified as the practices of drinking
blood, cannibalism, and shape-changing. Some monsters embody the violation
of natural laws through their mere existence, such as the Frankenstein monster,
which had absolutely no control over his monstrosity, or his creation and
abominable existence. The Frankenstein monster embodies the state of the
human condition the mishmash of cultures, religions, and belief systems, all
rolled (or sewn) into one.
He [the Frankenstein Monster] is neither black nor white, neither angel nor devil but,
like man in whose image he was made, a combination of these. He was not born with
murder in his heart; it was placed there by man himself. To understand more fully the
motivations and emotions of the monster, we must understand ourselves, for we have
not changed so radically since the people of Dr. Frankensteins day (Douglas,
1967:128).

Leatherface, from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Hooper, 1974), can be

viewed as a contemporary Frankensteins Monster. He is mentally retarded,

19

probably cannot distinguish between right and wrong, and his personality has
been molded by his heavily inbred and incest-ravished family. He is the product
of unnatural circumstances; he embodies otherness. Physically, Leatherface
closely resembles the Frankenstein Monster, as he wears a mask of human skin
on his face. This mask is made up of skin from, one assumes, various
individuals, and the manner in which it is grotesquely and untidily sewn together,
resembles the Frankenstein Monsters own visage. The terror is implicit in the
sense that Leatherface is, literally, wearing a second skin. The horror would be
the awful realization that, beneath the mask of death, is a human face. And
behind that, the sickness of the human mind.

The vampire, namely Count Dracula, is perhaps one of the most celebrated (and
feared) of all classical and contemporary monsters. His biological need to drink
human blood is both repulsive and fascinating, especially the manner in which he
acquires this blood he is seductive, sexy and causes women to submit to him
without resistance. The female vampire has the same effect on human males.
The vampire who is a creature neither truly living nor really dead must have blood
in order to survive. The food of mortals is of no value to him. It is blood he requires,
the thick, warm fluid which is the life. He must feed even as mortals do, and during the
hours of darkness traditionally the time of evil, which cannot bear the purifying light of
day he roams the countryside in search of blood. Without it, the spark of his unholy
life grows ever weaker (Douglas, 1967:32).

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The vampires sexuality and explicit (and irresistible) sensual attraction is vital for
its survival. It is able to seduce young women (or men) into giving, in essence,
what Linda Williams calls their life fluid:
The vampiric act of sucking blood, sapping the life fluid of a victim so that the victim in
turn becomes a vampire, is similar to the female role of milking the sperm of the male
during intercourse [and fellatio] (Williams, 2002:65).

An example of vampirism can be found, once again, in The Texas Chainsaw

Massacre (Hooper, 1974). Near the end of the film, Sally Hardesty finds herself
an unwilling guest in the home of Leatherface and his cannibalistic, inbred,
psychopathic family. Her finger is slit open, and the oozing blood fed to the
decaying corpse of the familys patriarch, Grandpa. The corpse begins to suck
on her bleeding finger feverishly, and Grandpa seems to come back from the
dead, the blood sustaining him and feeding his rotting and (un)dead organs
similar to the vampire. The terror is felt when the corpse of Grandpa is revealed.
The horror is experienced when the life fluid of someone else is used to bring
the corpse back from the dead.

Cannibalism, as is prevalent (yet merely suggested) in The Texas Chainsaw

Massacre (Hooper, 1974), is perhaps one of the most horrifying practices
portrayed in the horror film. Drake Douglas (1967:73) states:
the eating of human flesh was [and still is] something unnatural, something beastlike.
[The Romans believed that one] who indulged in this particular kind of feasting must be
very close to an animal; from here, the next step was belief that such a person actually
transformed himself into an animal.

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Leatherface has the visage of a pig he grunts and squeals (mostly in delight at
dismembering his victims); he is overweight and has, behind his mask of human
flesh, tiny pig-like eyes that look upon his victims greedily and hungrily. His
incestuous family can be represented as a pack of Hyenas, laughing hysterically
as they torment and play with Sally, who screams in fear and pain. Their
animalistic behaviour, in turn, reduces Sallys status from a human to that of an
animal. She seems to be represented as a pig in a pen, being chased around
endlessly by her tormentors.

Examples of other abominations include the zombie, and the walking dead,
which fill the human psyche with dread and fear. There is no horror like that
which comes from the gravePeople of all lands, regardless of the advance of
their civilization, have always been unwilling to believe that death means an end
(Douglas; 1967:174). Freddy Krueger, from A Nightmare on Elm Street (Hooper,
1984), is an example of the abomination that is the undead. He returns from the
grave in the form of a nightmare; he haunts the offspring of the individuals who
killed him originally. He invades his victims dreams, entering into a world which
should be private and personal. He enters the most intimate and secret (and
frightening) of all places the human mind. He does this when his victims are
physically powerless to stop him, when they are unconscious, and unable to
(physically) defend themselves. An example of Freddy Kruegers power extends
beyond merely invading his victims dreams. He is able to maim, torture and kill

22

his victims in their dreams, while their physical, sleeping bodies experience the
same punishment as their dream bodies. Thus, when one of Freddys victims is
murdered in their dream, their physical body dies in the same gruesome manner
in the real, waking world. This aspect of the contemporary horror film can be
closely linked to the postmodern notion of the waking nightmare.

Other forms of monstrosity and otherness are evident in the issues of female
sexuality and feminine liberation. The woman is punished by the monster for
performing impure acts, or for preparing to perform impure acts. It is the power
of female sexuality that is so terrifying. It can even be suggested that the
monster embodies the intensity and mystery of female sexuality, which is why it
is so terrifying. [T]he monsters power is one of sexual difference from the
normal male. In this difference he is remarkably like the woman in the eyes of
the traumatized male: a biological freak with impossible and threatening
appetites that suggest a frightening potency precisely where the normal male
would perceive a lack (Williams, 2002:63). Female sexuality has the potential to
completely overpower the normal male. The monster, in most cases, is also
able to overpower the male.
It may very well bethat the power and potency of the monster body in many classic
horror filmsshould not be interpreted as an eruption of the normally repressed animal
sexuality of the civilized male (the monster as double for the male viewer and
characters in the film), but as the feared power and potency of a different kind of
sexuality (the monster as double for the woman) (Williams, 2002:63).

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The monster holds the power. Yet, there is often ultimately a force (such as the
hero or heroine) greater than the monster that may, at some point, wrest that
power from it. This is not always the case. Often, especially within the
contemporary horror film, the monster maintains its power, even after its demise.
The audience is lulled into a false sense of victory when the hero or heroine slays
the monster, but in the back of the mind is always the notion that it is not, and
never will be, completely dead and gone.

Homosexuality, according to Harry Benshoff, is another example of what is

viewed as the other, as something unnatural, regardless of societys so-called
acceptance of it. It is seen as monstrous, as something abject. Benshoff
(2002:91) describes homosexuality as such:
[It] is a monstrous condition. Like an evil Mr. Hyde, or the Wolfman, a gay or lesbian
self inside of you might be striving to get out. Like Frankensteins monster,
homosexuals might run rampant across the countryside, claiming innocent victims. Or
worst of all, like mad scientists or vampires, who dream of revolutionizing the world
through some startling scientific discovery or preternatural power, homosexual activists
strike at the very foundations of society, seeking to infect or destroy not only those
around them but the very concepts of Western Judeo-Christian thought upon which civil
society is built.

Like the monster, homosexuality is seen as a threat to what the Western JudeoChristian paradigm considers normal. Benshoff goes on to state that
[t]he multiple social meanings of the words monster and homosexual are seen to
overlap to varying but often high degrees. Certain sectors of the population still relate

24

homosexuality to bestiality, incest, necrophilia, sadomasochism, etc. the very stuff of

classical [and contemporary] Hollywood monster movies. The concepts monster and
homosexual share many of the same semantic charges and arouse many of the same
fears about sex and death (2002:92).

The gay man or woman can be likened, Benshoff claims, to that of a vampire,
existing primarily in the shadowy realms of otherness, causing panic and fear
when they emerge. He also states that gay men in particular are similar to
vampires who, with a single mingling of blood, can infect a pure and innocent
victim, transforming him or her into the living dead (2002:92). It is the unknown
that is so terrifying. The horror is that dreadful realization that the unknown is, in
fact, the known. It is something that we have always known.

6. Blood, Violence, Sex, Sacrifice and Satisfaction

In the introduction of this article I referred to Girards theory on sacrificial
violence. In this section I shall adapt a key part of his theory in an attempt to
explain some aspects of the fascination of the horror genre, a fascination that
exerts itself in spite of the fact that our morals and values are violated.

What is the appeal of watching (and consuming) gratuitous violence, explicit sex,
gushing blood and evisceration? And why do audiences feel a sense of
excitement when a victim is hacked to death by a buzzing chainsaw, or when the
monster is dispatched in a particularly gruesome manner? Andrew Tudor,
quoting Grixti, states that

25

human beings are rotten to the core, whether by nature or nurture, and that
horror resonates with this feature of the human condition. The genre serves as a
channel releasing the bestiality concealed within its users. If the model is that of
catharsis, then the process is deemed beneficial: a safely valve. If the model is one of
articulation and legitimation, then the genre is conceived to encourage consumers in
their own horrific behaviour. Either way, the attraction of horror derives from its appeal
to the beast concealed within the superficially civilized human (2002:48).

Girard (1986) presents a more plausible explanation than this rather nave rotten
to the core premise. Since sacrifice is a key element in the horror genre, it
makes sense to explore Girards (1986:10) notion that violence,
(..)if left unappeased, (.) will accumulate until it overflows its confines and floods the
surrounding area. The role of sacrifice is to stem this rising tide of indiscriminate
substitutions and redirect violence into proper channels.

Within the contemporary, Westernized society that todays horror audiences

exist, there are no proper channels through which to direct their need for
violence. They are unable to find an outlet, a surrogate victim which shall
experience their wrath. There is no sense of release; humans are unable to
escape the ever-tightening noose that is frustration and choked-up anger. Yet,
there is one outlet, one safety-valve: The Horror Film. The audience is able to
watch a horror film, and replace the image of the screaming, writhing victim with
the image of that which is causing them such anger and frustration. The victim
would thus pose a resemblance to the object of the audiences violent desires,

26

allowing them to indirectly lash out at the object of their antagonism, thus
relieving them of that need to commit violence in the real world.

Although Girard was speaking of sacrificial violence within an anthropological

context, the following quote can, in a sense, be used in my discussion of horror
as a film genre.
[A]ll victimsbear a certain resemblance to the object they replace; otherwise the
violent impulse would remain unsatisfied (1986:11).

In a sense one could argue that the replacement on the screen therefore
becomes the audiences sacrificial victim the representation of all that is
frustrating and violence-invoking.
The desire to commit an act of violence on those near us cannot be suppressed
without a conflict; we must divert that impulse, therefore, toward the sacrificial victim,
the [person] we can strike down without fear of reprisal (1986:13).

The audience of the Horror film shall not be punished for reveling in the slow,
painful and bloody death of the representation of their anger. They are allowed
to experience it fully, and visually take part in the torture.
The sacrifice serves to protect the [audience] from its own violence[Sacrifices are
designed to suppress the audiences] internal violence all the dissentions, rivalries,
jealousies, and quarrels within the [lives of the audience]. The purpose of the sacrifice
is to restore harmony to the [audiences lives], to reinforce the social fabric (1986:8).

27

Violence (which shall be discussed shortly) and sacrifice in the horror film serve
a variety of psychological functions in societyLike tragedy, horror promotes
emotional catharsis of audiences; like fantasy, it offers viewers an escape from
the tedium of everyday life (Schneider, 2000168). Sacrifice in the horror film
allows its audience an outlet, a catharsis, for their repressed anger and violent
tendencies. Violence is not to be denied, but it can be diverted to another object
[the on-screen victim], something it can sink its teeth into (Girard; 1986:4).

An example of sacrifice within a horror film is portrayed in Saw (Wan, 2004). Dr.
Lawrence Gordon, in a desperate attempt at saving himself and his family, saws
off his foot in order to escape. He sacrifices a part of himself so that his family
can survive. In an earlier flashback, the audience learns of Amanda, who had to
sacrifice the life of her cell mate in order to ensure her own survival.
Violence is particularly prevalent in many film genres today, but more so in the
horror genre. Yet, not all violence is horrific. What is it about violence in the
Horror film that evokes such strong responses?
[V]iolencemarks the horror film, most evidently in films where a monster werewolf,
vampire, psychopath or whatever initiates a series of acts of murder and destruction
which can only end when it itself is either destroyed or becomes normalised (Neale;
1980:21).

The monster communicates through violence, and it has already been

established that there will be no reasoning or moralizing with it. The only
language it understand is that of violence that which it could do or what could

28

be done to it, if I may use Schneiders statement as such. The characters

therefore have to deal with the monster in the manner that it deals with them
through violence.
[V]iolence in the horror film is not gratuitous but is rather a constituent element of the
genre. The horror narrative is propelled by violence, manifested in both the monsters
violence and the attempts to destroy the monster (Pinedo, 1997:91).

J. David Slocum, in Violence and American Cinema, defines violence as such:

Violence is a notoriously expansive notion. While the term indicates an action or
behaviour that is harmful or injurious, the least elaboration quickly demonstrates the
range of phenomena for which it is potentially relevant. Individuals, groups, and states
undertake harmful actions against individuals, groups, states, animals, property, and
nature. Harm can be physical, psychological, or even sociologicalEven more, the
threat of harm or injury [terror] can often be as disturbing as the act itself [horror]. And
the act need not have an immediate cause or responsible agent: systemic or structural
violence can emerge from conditions like racism, sexism, homophobia, classism, or
xenophobia that inscribe a set of social or cultural relations without necessarily
clarifying the reasons for or consequences of specific actions. Still more basically,
aggression, sadism, or destructive behaviour can be viewed as the result of the
psychological or physiological tendency of human beings or social groups that is, of
human nature (2001:2).

Slocum states that violence is inherent in human nature deep down we are
vicious hell-hounds that need release from our bourgeois, pseudo-civilized
cages. Hell is in the mind; the horror film emphasizes that. The horror film
explores the capacity for experiencing fear, hysteria and madness, all that lies
on the dark side of the mind and the near side of barbarism; what lurks on and
29

beyond the shifting frontiers of consciousnessand where, perhaps, there dwell

ultimate horrors or concepts of horror and terrorparadigms, images and figures
of suffering and chaos, and thus of various kinds of hell (Cuddon, 1991:417).
Blood, sex and violence often go hand in hand in the Horror film. Any type of
bloodletting be it through open wounds, internal bleeding, or menstrual
bleeding rouses fear. .

Menstrual blood is particularly disturbing, as it is so closely linked to sexuality,

which in turn is closely linked to violence. The fact that the sexual organs of
women periodically emit a flow of blood has always made a great impression on
men; it seems to confirm an affinity between sexuality and those diverse forms of
violence that invariably lead to bloodshed (Girard, 1986:34-35). Girard also
states that menstrual blood is impure, which leads to the conclusion that
sexuality is impure, because sexuality is so closely connected to violence.
Sex and violence frequently come to grips in such direct forms as abduction, rape,
defloration, and various sadistic practicesSex is at the origin of various illnesses, real
or imaginary; in culminates in the bloody labours of childbirth, which may entail the
death of mother, child, or both together (Girard, 1986:35).

Blood, sex and violence have been around since the first child was born. These
three elements combine to create a powerful horror film, and allow the audience
all the catharsis they need to purge themselves of their need for blood and
violence. The three elements allow the audience the opportunity to sacrifice the

30

characters on the screen so that they can be relieved of their desires and
frustrations.
The catharsis that the audience feels leads to a type of satisfaction, a sense of
relief that they have been purged (at least temporarily) of their aggravations. The
audience experiences this catharsis by, in a way, physically taking part in the
violence on the screen. As mentioned, Linda Williams (1999) has identified three
specific genres that deal with excess, with sensation and excitement. These
three genres are the melodrama (the tearjerker), the horror (the fear jerker) and
pornography (the jerk-off), and she places them within an overarching category
called The Body Genre. According to Williams,
the ecstatic excesses [of] pornographys portrayal of orgasm,horrors portrayal of
violence and terror, andmelodramas portrayal of weeping, could be said to share a
quality of uncontrollable convulsion or spasm of the body beside itself with sexual
pleasure, fear and terror, or overpowering sadness. Aurally, excess is marked by [the
audience sharing in the characters] inarticulate cries of pleasure in porn, screams of
fear in horror, sobs of anguish in melodrama (1999:703-704).

There is a sense, says Williams, of a lack of proper esthetic distance; of overinvolvement in the film the audience goes too deep into the rabbit hole, and
becomes immersed in the fantasy world of the film. Often, it is the amount of
screams that a horror film can elicit from its audience that determines its success
the audience mimics the characters screams of pain and terror and revel in the
violence and bloodshed. The audience is able to expel their own demons and
sacrifice their own lambs during the course of a 120-minute horror film. They exit

31

the cinema feeling purged of their desires to be violent. They return home, climb
into bed, and turn off the lights. Yet, what the audience has given to the horror
film, the horror film has returned with interest. Instead of their minds being
filled with images of bloodshed and violence, only one reflection remains in the
back of their minds they see themselves, as the primal beast, the original
sinner, the ultimate horror monster.

7. Conclusion
In this article I have explored some definitive characteristics of the horror film as
a relatively young manifestation of an ancient genre. While not nearly qualifying
as a genre typology, some key issues revolving around the relationship between
violence, terror and horror, which are frequently confused in literature on the
horror genre, have been clarified. In this regard I have shown that all horror films
contain violence, but that very few violent movies can be categorized as horror.
Terror, as the superlative of fear, is linked to real danger of bodily harm; horror is
as much an emotional as physical reaction to the depravity that underlies those
actions or manifestations (in the form of the monstrous body) that cause the
terror.
Schneider, quoting Cavell, states that terror is of violence, of the violence I
might do or that might be done to me. I can be terrified of thunder, but not
horrified by it (2000:168). Terror is the fear of what could happen. Horror is the
awful realization of the extent of human depravity and excess. Terror is the result
of real, imminent danger to us. Horror lies in the realm of the mind and it is

32

evoked by the images and representations of the horror film - of that which we try
to contain behind the thin veneer civilization.

33

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