There is such a thing as a sad horror movie. They’re not my favorites, and they usually have more to do with violation than death. That’s what makes them so sad. Horror, because of its conventions, can sometimes act as a balm to sadness. The rules of the world are so clear, and the stakes of the story are so obvious, and the fast-paced nature of the fight-or-flight survival arc of the final girl combine to make it impossible for you, the viewer, to have a single bored or wandering or unwanted thought. This is my relationship to horror: in times of strife, they ease an unquiet mind. You can’t be thinking about how scared you are of all the existential things when you’re busy simulating the experience of actually being hunted, actually being in mortal danger.
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