Johannes Roberts’ The Strangers: Prey at Night is a travesty for anyone who watched and loved the outstanding 2008 film, The Strangers, directed by Bryan Bertino. I discuss Bertino’s Strangers here. It’s a brilliant horror film in the pure, enigmatic malevolence of the “strangers,” the simplicity of the plot, and the absolute terror induced by the way the strangers emerge silently into the frame, inside the home they shouldn’t be in. Strangers: Prey at Night is the opposite of all that. Which isn’t to say that, as a film in its own right, it doesn’t have some redeeming qualities.
Horror Homeroom has been going strong for three years now and, to celebrate our third anniversary and to thank everyone who’s read and interacted with us, we’re offering a free giveaway.
Imagine you’re an alien anthropologist sent to Earth to document the behaviour of the strange bipedal mammals who inhabit the planet. You stumble into a movie theater that’s showing the latest Hollywood horror film.
Several dozen humans are gathered together in a dark, undecorated room. They’re all staring at a rectangular area on which patterns of light change rapidly.
They are clearly in a state of high arousal. Their hate rate is elevated, they occasionally glance around nervously, and they sometimes jump collectively in their seats, and emit high-pitched warning calls.
Eventually, the lights come up and the rectangular screen goes black. The humans stand up and leave the room, chatting and laughing, and showing signs of pleasure.
What on earth is going on?
Why do these humans voluntarily expose themselves to what appears to be a deeply unpleasant experience? And why do they react so strongly to those patterns of light on a screen?
Mathias Clasen from the School of Communication and Culture of Aarhus University in Denmark has asked these questions–and he answers them, and more, in his TedX talk, and in this guest post, first published on ScienceNordic.
Ask anyone who grew up watching Little House on the Prairie what is the most traumatizing image they recollect from the show’s run and you’re likely to get a surprisingly wide array of answers. From Caroline almost taking a knife to her leg while in the throes of a fevered infection to Alice screaming and trying in vain to shatter glass as she and baby Adam burned in a fire, the show contains more than a few moments that call into question its cultural legacy of family friendliness. These moments aside, however, the show never delved into explicitly horror territory until its seventh season when a two-part episode entitled “Sylvia” leveraged the genre’s tropes to completely rewrite audience expectation. Read more
Novelist Alma Katsu is known for injecting horror and the supernatural into historical fiction (“makes the supernatural seem possible,” says Publishers Weekly). Her new book, The Hunger, a reimagining of the story of the Donner Party, has just been published by G.P. Putnam’s Sons.
I’ve always loved ghost stories, probably because I grew up in a run-down old Victorian that we were sure was haunted. Writing a ghost story, however, is another matter. I think they’re hard to pull off successfully. Even if they manage to produce a ghost, it’s often done so unimaginatively that you wish the author hadn’t bothered.
You certainly can’t say this about The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. Although shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2009, it has not been universally loved, particularly by the fans of Waters’ earlier work. However, I’m in the camp that believes when it comes to art, a little controversy is a good thing. It’s a sign of Waters’ genius that she was able to build ambiguity in her novel without the whole thing falling apart. And in the end, she created a very different kind of ghost story. I wouldn’t say the book is terrifying, but it is terrifyingly well done, and I’ve come back to reread and study her artistry time and time again.