Jordan Peele’s recent film Us (2019) cashes in on what horror does best: it takes a comfortable setting and makes it very, very uncomfortable. In Peele’s movie, that setting is a Santa Cruz-area summer home owned by the Wilson family. What begins as a relaxing getaway ends in a bloody showdown between the Wilsons and a murderous foursome that looks creepily similar to them. Like these doppelgangers, the physical spaces of vacation—the house, the nearby lake, the beach boardwalk—become, over the course of the film, decidedly uncanny.[i] The lush verdure of the house’s front yard becomes a menacing jungle in which the intruders easily conceal themselves; the once-placid lake becomes a watery grave; instead of a cozy glow, the den’s fireplace casts a hellish backlight behind the grinning doubles. Read more
Thanks to the Howell Carnegie District Library in Howell, Michigan, who invited me to give the talk from which this article grew.
One afternoon on a late summer weekend in 1983, I was flipping through the channels looking for something to watch on TV. I’m not even sure cable was something ordinary folks could have back then, but in any event, my family didn’t have it, just plain old network TV. For some reason on that summer weekend afternoon, one of the stations was playing The Exorcist, and I discovered it while flipping through the channels. I was 11 years old; I don’t think before that moment I knew that a movie called The Exorcist even existed. I was too young to have found it on my own, and I didn’t have older siblings to frighten me with it; that job was left to network TV. I happened to tune in to one of the most disturbing scenes, when the two priests are performing the Rite of Exorcism and the devil is using the possessed girl Regan’s body to thrash around, vomit, and say a wide range of alarming things (some of which were awkwardly censored).