Spooky season is here! For me, this means it is time to exclusively watch horror films. Horror is my favorite genre. It is not for everyone and that’s ok! For me, the creepy and scary feelings that only get partially resolved opens my mind to reflect how I can hold space for the uncomfortable. Additionally, I love all of the different tropes within the genre. Some of my favorite tropes include an accidental summoning, a cursed object, the abandoned place, supernatural forces, and I will always love a good (albeit, cheap) jumpscare. However, to make a great horror film, writers and directors must rely on more than just tropes and visuals; they need to understand what will deeply resonate with the audience.
Here are two of my favorite horror films and my psychoanalysis of each of their plots. Fair warning, there are major spoilers:
The Ring
Is 2002 too early to call something a classic? Well, this 2002 classic is one of my favorites. Naomi Watts plays Rachel, a single mother who uncovers and watches an unknowingly cursed video tape that displays an eerie series of images, ending with a cryptic ring of light. Upon finishing the tape, the viewer will immediately receive a phone call telling them they will die in 7 days. The ambiguity of the premise inherently creates an ominous and unsettling narrative that makes the audience sit face to face with their own fears of uncertainty. In this world, this is a threat that has not yet been comprehended; however, Rachel not only seeks to deduce the tape, but control the outcome. Rachel has motivation: not only is she grappling with her own mortality, but the mortality of her young son, who accidentally found and watched the tape after her. After researching the history of the tape, Rachel learns that it originated with a young girl, Samara, whose mother pushed her into a well, covered it, and walked away. Samara survived for 7 days in the well before dying. The last thing Samara saw is the previously mentioned ring of light coming through the well cover. It is made clear that the tape is a cry for help, and when she does not receive that help in time her ghosts responds the only way she knows how. With this knowledge, Rachel rushes to the scene of the crime, finds Samara’s body, and gives her a proper burial in hopes of closure. The film ends with unease, though. It is unknown if Rachel’s actions broke the cycle. The audience has to accept that as the ending.
I believe this plot demonstrates the permeating nature of childhood trauma. Not only does it linger within the family system, but it can have ripple effects on others in a community. Samara was living with an abusive mother, who ultimately decided to kill her. While this film does not outline the specifics of the violence in the home before Samara’s death, we can glean an understanding from the eerie images shown on the videotape. The videotape serves as a metaphor for how we desperately want others to understand how trauma has affected us, but how it can come across in a way that feels ambiguous and confusing. If we expose our true self and nothing is done about it, we may cut off a relationship in the same way Samara would kill people 7 days after watching the tape.
So what can we learn from this? Let’s take time to nourish our childhood trauma in a safe space and with people who we trust. Our body stores onto trauma in all sorts of ways, and we get to a point where it seeps out one way or another. What the videotape was to Samara may be what people-pleasing is to you. If not people-pleasing, maybe dissociating, over-achieving, hypersensitivity, or anything else- the list goes on! We all have methods of trying to cope with trauma that is ultimately a cry for connection and healing. When we expose that vulnerability, let’s do it in a safe space with someone
who, like Rachel, is willing to go the extra mile to promote healing and closure.
The Shining
While it is widely known that Stephen King, the author of The Shining, despises Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film adaptation, it still holds merit in the horror film zeitgeist, and is my personal favorite of all time. Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall play married couple, Jack and Wendy Torrence, accompanied by their son Danny. The film begins with Jack Torrence accepting a job to be a groundskeeper during the winter months off-season at The Overlook Hotel. In passing, it is mentioned that the Overlook was built on an ancient Native American Burial ground. The family will be isolated together in this space that spans beyond comprehension. Despite Wendy’s concern, Jack is excited for the opportunity to be removed from distraction and finish a manuscript. Kubrick quickly informs the audience that Danny holds a telepathic ability, as he and the hotel’s chef have a secret exchange. At this moment the chef warns Danny of the horrors of the hotel before he departs for the off-season. As a month goes by, Danny begins having terrifying visions of horrific acts that occurred in the hotel and becomes a shell of himself. Wendy is concerned with Dannhy’s presentation, and then finds Danny with unexplained bruises. She attempts to consult Jack about these concerns, but instead is denied connection and finds his manuscript, which just repeats “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” hundreds of times on his typewriter. It becomes clear that Jack is experiencing his own mental breakdown. Jack is experiencing life-like visions of people who have formerly occupied the hotel. In an exchange with a seemingly real but ghostly hotel bartender, Jack is told to “control” his wife and son. This results in Jack chasing his wife and son with an axe. With wisdom, Wendy runs to the snowy and bitterly cold outside into a large hedge maze, where she loses Jack. Wendy and Danny are able to escape to safety while Jack gets lost in the maze and freezes to death. The film ends with a creepy and meaningful moment: the camera slowly zooms down a hallway of the Overlook hotel and eventually focuses on photos of people enjoying the hotel. The camera continues to zoom in on a photo of the same Jack the audience has seen, standing in front of a large party crowd in the hotel, dated July 4th 1921 which is approximately 60 years before the movie took place. This poses more questions than it answers: Is Jack immortal? Does Jack represent abusive patterns that have existed in the Overlook for decades? Does the Overlook have secret powers? What does this all mean? The audience is left to wonder.
When I watch this, I see the blaring examples of power and control in abuse. Jack portrays the ultimate abusive figure. He uses power and control in a number of ways. Isolation, obviously. Jack also manipulates power and control by minimizing and denying Wendy’s rational concerns before and during their stay at the hotel. He uses male privilege and economic coercion early in the film when he convinces Wendy she needs to emotionally support him in this endeavor, communicating the message that as the man of the house he is responsible for providing income and she needs to trust his judgment without question. Jack is a textbook emotional abuser. What about Danny’s powers? I believe those represent the intuitive nature that children of abuse pick up not only to survive, but to try and ameliorate any stress that could cause the abusive parent to lash out. Danny represents the children of abuse that have had to pick up skills to adapt to trauma.
I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that there are also many theories that this film symbolizes American imperialism and the genocide of Native Americans. In addition to the mention of the Overlook being built on sacred Native American land, there are certain creative choices made by Kubrick that are subtle references to Native American motifs and images. It is possible Kubrick used an example of abuse in a family to parallel one of history’s ultimate examples of an abuse of Power and Control.
If you are curious about Power and Control in abuse, feel free to consult The Power and Control Wheel.
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I wish I could dive into the psychoanalysis of dozens of other horror films. I could go on and on about how Nightmare on Elm Street represents the need to process our fears or else they will find a way to haunt us. Or how the Scream franchise represents how the people in our community who we love and trust are the ones who have the capacity to hurt us the most. Or how the It movies give us an example of how we process fear before and after our prefrontal cortex is developed. But, we do not have time or space for all of that in one blog post. So I will leave you with this: the next time you are watching a horror film, give yourself space to understand how the fear is manifesting in you. Where is it taking up space? Take note of how you are holding onto that fear somatically, or how it alters your cognitive patterns. You can learn a lot about yourself in the process.