Horror in Children's Movies

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PHOTO courtesy OF kAT jAYNE

PHOTO courtesy OF kAT jAYNE

When adults are in the mood for a good scare, they watch a horror movie. These films are almost always exclusive to mature audiences (18+), but does that mean movies for children are completely devoid of anything related to horror? No, not a chance. Children’s movies incorporate elements of horror more often than you think, and surprisingly enough, it’s usually justified in the plot. You’re probably thinking: “Horror in kids’ movies? Not okay!” While I’m not about to start an argument over moral dilemmas, I will explain how elements of horror can be implemented into children’s movies wholesomely and intelligently.

Frightening a child doesn’t revolve around an exclusive algorithm found only within this article. It’s very similar to frightening an adult. In fact, it’s identical. It might use ambiguity, a jump-scare, or something that’s just plain disturbing. The same is done when trying to scare kids; the dosage is just reduced a little.

The examples of how this is done are endless, but one scene in Toy Story stands out as a particularly strong example. Sid’s deformed toys revealing themselves is unnerving, but not scarring. Sid’s toys are only scary because they’re built from pieces of one another and possess no traits that would be considered inappropriate for children. Their appearances fall somewhere in the uncanny valley. This is when something or someone’s appearance clearly indicates what they are but has looks different enough from the original to suggest they’re not quite what you thought they were. This is a technique proven to scare not only children, but adults, too. Lastly, the scene has a purpose. It wasn’t just thrown into the film for the sake of having an obligatory scary scene; it was included to strengthen the theme as well as define Sid as a character.

My criteria of well-implemented horror in kids’ films is being appropriately scary for the intended age group, not being a jump-scare, and having a meaningful purpose. The scene where Sid’s toys are revealed meets the aforementioned criteria at an A+ level, but so does “the giant Ursula scene” from The Little Mermaid and “the parents scene” from Coraline. If you’re feeling youthful and maybe a little daring, give them a watch!

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Sam Gagnon

Sam's niche analytical style of writing spans across a plethora of passions. He's debunked high protein myths, offered us an objective deconstruction of the success of eSports, and has written several elegant reviews of best-selling movies. Sam now looks forward to offering his insights to the things that make us shiver.

Niche Horror Films: The Babadook

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Courtesy of Screen Australia and Causeway Films

Courtesy of Screen Australia and Causeway Films

We’ve all flinched—or in the case of the particularly squeamish—jumped out of our seats at a cruelly timed jump-scare, but rarely are we creeped out enough by a scene in a horror movie to think about it long after the film is over. Throwing occasional jump-scares our way is the easiest method for horror films to check that they’ve scared us off their checklist. Granted, the CGI in the jump-scare might be impressive, but it need not be. I guarantee if a horror movie threw anyone’s face in front of the camera and paired it with an obnoxiously loud noise, you’d leap behind the couch. I would. Of this crime, the Paranormal Activity franchise is among the guiltiest. Doors slam, vases smash, and disembodied voices scream, but when I go to bed at night, I’m sleeping like a baby. The only thing keeping me up is thinking about the two hours I wasted. On the other hand, after watching movies like The Babadook, I become a paranoid insomniac for the following 48 hours.

Instead of putting our nervous system through jump-scare after jump-scare, The Babadook makes us paranoid. Throughout the entire film, we’re waiting for that horrifying jump-scare in which the Babadook reveals itself, but the truth is, we hardly ever see him. Trust me, I remember my friends and I saying: “What, did they just not have the budget to make a CGI for this fraud?” But I assure you, this is deliberate. And quite smart.

We’re shown body parts, shadows, and even the face of the Babadook, but he’s overall ambiguous. This ambiguity keeps us in suspense throughout the film, wondering when we’ll finally find out what he looks like. If the film introduced you to the Babadook right away like you might introduce a friend to another friend, every subsequent encounter wouldn’t scare you. Instead, you would just think to yourself: “There’s good ol’ Babadook again”.

The Babadook does an excellent job at forcing its audience to sustain their suspense, and that alone could be enough to classify it as a successful horror film. But surprisingly, it’s not the primary reason The Babadook scares us, and that brings me to the meat and potatoes of what I’m talking about: niche horror tactics. Not only are we in the shoes of a vulnerable child throughout the film, we’re in the shoes of a vulnerable child whose single-mother has turned against him. Think back to a time in your childhood when you were alone with your mother. Now, imagine how terrifying it would be if suddenly, she began chasing you around the house while brandishing a knife and screaming death threats. Your mother took care of you, she cooked your meals, and she helped you with your homework. The shift between that and her trying to kill you is, needless to say, horrific. The Babadook just goes to show us that the only thing scarier than a bloodthirsty demon trying to kill us is our mothers trying to kill us.

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Sam Gagnon

Sam's niche analytical style of writing spans across a plethora of passions. He's debunked high protein myths, offered us an objective deconstruction of the success of eSports, and has written several elegant reviews of best-selling movies. Sam now looks forward to offering his insights to the things that make us shiver.

How Horror Games Give Us the Creeps

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Since Le Manoir du Diable (1896), horror movies have made us paranoid of what lurks behind the closet when we put ourselves to bed at night. In today’s age, such films may still shock us, but what you may find even more shocking is that video games are far more effective at scaring us than movies. If you’re a long-time horror fanatic but not a gamer, 2018 might be a good year for you to hop on the bandwagon.

The past decade saw the release of several triple A horror titles such as Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Outlast, The Evil Within, Soma, and the Five Nights at Freddy’s series, each of which have their own unique method of striking fear into us. However, while the scare tactics in horror games are endlessly diverse, almost all of them spin off a central element: immersion. Unlike its film counterpart, horror games refuse to let you be a spectator while someone else runs for their life; instead, you’re the one in danger. Most horror games have you control a character from the first-person view. This is no coincidence; by making you see what the character sees for long enough, your brain is tricked into thinking it is that character. As empathetic as we are, our hearts couldn’t be bothered to beat at light speed while watching a masked chainsaw-wielding freak chase down some teenager who probably deserved what they had coming to them. A masked chainsaw-wielding freak chasing you­… quite different.

Immersion is crucial. After all, how else would we care about what’s going on? Nonetheless, our nervous system eventually adapts to having jump scares thrown at it left, right, and center, even if we’re fully immersed. What horror games do, beyond simply scaring us, is creeping us out. This is accomplished by incorporating ambiguity. You’ve probably heard the adage: “Seeing nothing is scarier than seeing something.” This is exactly how horror games use your own imagination as the engine for fear. As soon as the game shows you something, whether it be a demon, a killer, or a zombie, they’ve revealed their hand. All the cards are on the table and they’re betting it will scare you. If they’ve bet wrong, it’s game over for them. Instead, they’ll throw some hulking footsteps, a tall shadow, or a loud bang your way. Ambiguous sights and sounds like these force your mind to materialize the most terrifying thing imaginable. No game knows your fears like you do, but fortunately for them, they don’t have to.

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Sam Gagnon

Sam's niche analytical style of writing spans across a plethora of passions. He's debunked high protein myths, offered us an objective deconstruction of the success of eSports, and has written several elegant reviews of best-selling movies. Sam now looks forward to offering his insights to the things that make us shiver.