The Deeply Christian Reality of Horror Films
Photo by Alexander Mils
I've never particularly enjoyed the horror genre. As someone who appreciates all sorts of storytelling, I find myself woefully ignorant of the catalog. I've dabbled here and there but never got into it. And every year, as Halloween approaches, I find myself wishing I liked it more. I feel like an outsider when so many of those around me enjoy the genre. Part of that comes from the reality that I don't think I can recall watching a bad one. I am sure the select few I've seen were creme of the crop, but I think there's more to it than this. They often come off as surprisingly profound, touching on something true at the deepest levels. And though I am not a fan, it's for this reason that I find the genre to be one of the most consistently and thoroughly Christian genres in film.
I, like many others, at one point saw horror films as a sort of gateway to the evil spiritual realm. It was an implicit idea I had picked up being in and around conservative Christian circles that denounced Halloween, Harry Potter and instead hosted Fall Festivals. Watching a horror film was akin to saying Candyman five times. Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.
But the reality is that "this present darkness," as Paul calls it, is very much around and active now regardless of what we watch. The reality is that something as mundane as shopping on Amazon can offer just as much exposure to the evil forces at work in the world. These evil powers are just as present and active in our participation in greed and materialism as they are in explicit artistic depictions of this evil. And likely more so. Yet we hardly worry about getting possessed by demons when clicking on that Instagram ad. I, like many of you, was taught to avoid one and happily partake in the other.
And this helps us get to the heart of the matter. In the 21st century, Christian art has been woefully unchristian. And this is nowhere more clear than in Christian films' inability to be actual, good art.
The "Facing the Giants," "God's not Dead," Thomas Kinkade brand of Christian art offers an overly optimistic and unrealistic view of both life and the Christian life. Worlds void of real substantive evil, where simply making better choices or believing hard enough frees you from your problems, abound. The idea that if we just believe well enough (rightly, hard enough, etc.), or obey enough, then we will be blessed lines up more with the Gospel of the Pharisees than that of Jesus. That's not to say that we can't or shouldn't watch these films if we enjoy them. Rather, we should be aware that this particular brand of "Christian" art seems to paint a shallow picture of the world at best and a false one at worst. It fails to depict what a life of following Jesus looks like and so often comes across as thin or hollow.
In the Christian world, there are monsters in our closets. What horror unapologetically does is shine light on them. The genre leans into the reality that all is not well and that evil is often far more sinister and more powerful than we tend to want to believe.
The sinister nature of horror revolves around the idea that there is something beyond your control out to do you harm. The specters of death hunt us. And ghosts, demons, and chain saw massacres depict our shared deep-seated, and very human fear, that our enemy death will find us, and we are helpless.
In horror, evil is unveiled and seen as it actually is, a ravenous unstoppable monster that should terrify us. And this is what the genre gets so right. The frightening, gruesome, and spine-tingling depictions of evil put on display both the power and malevolence of "the Prince of the Power of the Air" in ways that family-friendly "Christian" films do not. Evil, in the end, is always clearly evil and a force to be reckoned with, one that cannot be whimsically dismissed or overcome by some change in behavior. And even when in the end it is destroyed, it always leaves an indelible mark, wreaking havoc and destruction on the lives it touches.
In this sense, horror, rather than shying away from evil, holds it up for all to see, and for human beings, something deep inside resonates. Putting aside the fun that accompanies the thrill of the jump-scare and unfolding unknown, people are drawn to the genre because it deals with things we all might be afraid are real. Horror only works because the world is full of horror.
Because this is the reality we all share, many Christians have seen horror as an opportunity to have profound and meaningful conversations. Others have gone as far as to accuse most horror movies of being thinly veiled Christian propaganda.
While I wouldn't go that far, there is something necessarily Christian about drawing clear lines between what is good and beautiful and vile and evil. This means most horror films will have to tap into something foundationally Christian at some level.
By taping into these foundational Christian ideas, horror reminds us that there is more at work in Jesus' work than dealing with our moral failings. Penal substitutionary atonement has dominated the American Christian imagination (think forgiveness of sins) for two and half centuries. Horror offers a helpful corrective by reminding us that there are very real "monsters," bigger than us, that need dealing with.
Evil powers, far more potent and sinister than we'd like to imagine, seek to destroy the beauty and life of God's creation. The scriptures consistently claim this, and it is precisely the thing horror films are drawing on. And so yes, of course, the work of Jesus offers us forgiveness for our sins, but it also disarms and destroys these malevolent forces undoing the world (Col. 2:15).
The depictions of evil in art pale in comparison to what likely exists in the actual spiritual world. Yet, the explosive work of Jesus overcomes, subdues, makes a mockery of, and destroys them. And here again, horror largely gets this right. Evil rarely wins in horror, and when it does, we feel deeply disturbed or unsatisfied by that ending.
All of this doesn't mean everyone needs to rush out and become fans of the horror genre. But if you grew up like me, we also need not demonize it. Both because the prince of this world is already hard at work in far less obvious and far more sinister ways and because the work of Jesus has already freed us from the power of evil, including death.
