Enough.
Already: Horror in the 1990s
By
the end of the 1980s horror had become so reliant on gross-out gore
and buckets of liquid latext that it seemed to have lost its power to
do anything more than shock and then amuse. However, each generation
demands that its fears be fairly represented on the screen, and Generation
X got its own special brand of boogeyman: the serial killer. It can
be argued that the so-called psychological thriller took precedence
over horror in the 1990s, and indeed, many dark, disturbing films of
this period would describe themselves as thriller, not horror. Yet directors
such as Jonathan Demme were adopting the codes and conventions of the
horror genre, when pacing their plot, when representing their characters,
and when manipulating the shock/suspense mechanisms of their audience.
It's just that they weren't admitting to making horror films, thus avoiding
any association or comparison with the splatter crew. There was a perceived
need, as there was at the beginning of the 1970s, for adult, intelligent
horror, and it was provided in the form of disturbing, violent thrillers
such as Silence of The Lambs. This era gets its own reworking
of The Exorcist (The Exorcist III), which plays not on
society's anxieties about its children, but about its old and infirm.
It's
always the quiet ones - Psychokillers
Perhaps
as a reaction to the splatterfests of the 1980s, and an attempt to create
"horror for grown-ups", the 1990s presented monsters that
were far more mundane. Ever since Anthony Perkins revealed Norman Bates's
taxidermy collection in Psycho (1960) audiences
have proven susceptible to the charms of that mild-mannered mother's
favourite, the slightly stammering serial killer. Psycho, like The
Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of The Lambs and numerous others,
takes as its basis the murders of Ed
Gein, that mild-mannered, mother's favourite, slightly stammering
serial killer.
In 1957,
America was by turns horrified and fascinated by the details of Gein's
case. The residents of Plainfield, Wisconsin had known him as 'Weird
Old Eddy' for years, but they were as shocked as anyone else to hear
of the grisly human remains he was hoarding in his remote farmhouse.
Police investigating the robbery of a local hardware store turned up
to question Gein and discovered among other things, an armchair with
real arms, a belt made of nipples, a bowl made from a human skull and
a table made with shinbone legs. Apparently. Gein's macabre brand of
handicraft at once captured and repulsed the American imagination and
the modern cult of the serial killer was born. But why the fascination?
Not only did this man transgress by committing the act of murder, but
he trampled society's taboos by fetishising body parts, fashioning them
into useful household items and taking a grotesque pride in his work.
Surely this fell so far outside the realms of normal human behaviour
that it qualifies the perpetrator as totally inhuman, a man-monster,
as abhorrent a creation as Victor Frankenstein's experiment? How could
he be so totally different from the rest of us? Was he that different..?
Serial
killers throughout history have always made good folk heroes, from Dick
Turpin to Dr Crippen. Their stories told in legend and ballads, and
in the 'penny dreadfuls' of the nineteenth century, mass murderers were
always guaranteed a notoriety that lasted long after the last scrap
of flesh had rotted from their corpse gently swinging from the gibbet.
Even into the 21st century their popularity shows no signs of dwindling.
The search term "serial killer" throws up 100s of sites on
the internet, and there are electronic shrines dedicated to individual
criminals, as well as pop songs, TV shows, paperbacks, comic books and,
of course, movies.
A
serial killer fulfils several functions within a film's narrative structure.
They can play the part of villain, or antagonist, obviously, and can
provide a worthy opponent for the protagonist. However, serial killers
onscreen are often portrayed as being supremely intelligent or cunning,
and find it easy to foil 'those dumb cops'. Audiences respect this intelligence,
and a well-played killer may excite our sympathy as much as our distaste;
it's the Iago factor. In Shakespeare's Othello we are presented
with a villain who is as reasonable as he is evil, a villain who pours
his heart out to the audience and a villain who, in the hands of the
right actor, might outshine the bumbling hero. Serial killers in movies
(rarely in reality) communicate with their pursuers, forging a bond
through enigmatic phone calls and notes. In some ways they can appear
as the Helper, aiding and abetting in their own capture. SOmetimes they
reciprocate respect with the particular agent or officer assigned to
their case, and show them kindness: Hannibal Lecter gives Clarice Starling
help in solving the Buffalo Bill case in Silence of The Lambs,
and Jonathan Doe spares David Mills's life in Se7en. Are we
meant to like the killers? Perhaps not, but they exhibit shreds of sensibility
and humanity which mean we can't altogether hate them.
Serial
killers are those who, by definition, enjoy killing and seek their thrills
repeatedly. This puts them outside the normal boundaries of humanity.
Serial killers, also by definition, manage to kill several times before
being caught, their skill at escaping detection perhasp suggesting extraordinary
good luck, or supernatural powers. They are not ordinary human beings,
and as with any aberration from the norm, we like to see them as monsters.
There are many films about serial killers, some of them excellent (Silence
of The Lambs, Se7en) some of them dire (Resurrection, The Bone
Collector). The better ones include:
Pre
1990s
- M
(1931)
- Eyes
of Laura Mars (1978)
- Manhunter
(1986)
- Henry:
Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
1990s