Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Peliculas de Terror
Peliculas de Terror
Iʼve experienced this moment countless times: itʼs close to Halloween and being
a “pop culture guy,” Iʼm asked for horror movie suggestions. Being the nice pop
culture guy that I am, Iʼll throw a few titles their way only to receive ungrateful,
pointing fingers that say “that wasnʼt scary.” But thatʼs the thing about “scary,”
itʼs entirely subjective. Youʼre sitting in a theatre, watching a scary scene and
youʼre holding your breath, but meanwhile, the guy to your left is yawning his
ass off.
Great horror has a way of sneaking into the darkest and deepest part of our
psyches, but itʼs dependant on individual traumas and dogmas. Some may not
like the dark, others will be fearful of the unknown, and in the case of myself, itʼs
the unnaturally calm that gets me. In an effort to give my final stamp on
suggestions, Iʼve put together a long list of 50 moments from several films (in
no particular order, sorry rankists); some from horror, others from thrillers, all of
which I think will satisfy even the toughest horror critic.
Actors: Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., Anthony Edwards, Brian Cox
Director: David Fincher
Consider the elements here: This is a David Fincher flick about a true-to-life
serial killer doing some serial killing shit (The Zodiac Killer), AND HE HASNʼT
BEEN CAUGHT. This is a very important distinction to take in as you head into
this scene after a two hours and 18 minute build up to where he potentially
meets the murderer.
Whatʼs so scary?
When our stubborn clue-finding cartoonist with a cause, Jake Gyllenhaal,
comes face-to-face with the perfectly ordinary co-worker of his current
suspect, thereʼs a perfect blend of framing, in that dark-and-stormy-night sort
of fashion that letʼs audiences know that Jake is alone in this scenario. Itʼs later
when his potential killer reveals with a line, “I do the posters myself,” before
inviting him down a dark basement. Every viewer is thinking the same thing at
this moment: Get the fuck out!
You know the drill: shark comes; slips a fin above some water; cue in the music
—da dum, da dum da dum—insert scare. Jaws isnʼt strictly terrifying. I mean
sure, Steven Spielberg plotted a classic thriller starring a long great white; but
itʼs still just a shark. And some of us can still avoid water like our feelings. Enter
this one scene with Robert Shaw as shark hunter Quint, who begins to tell the
story of his physical scars. As heʼs detailing an experience aboard the USS
Indianapolis, a musical score begins to play still and eerie, with Quint informing
Richard Dreyfuss's Matt Hooper and Roy Scheiderʼs Martin Brody about sharing
an ocean with a group of hungry sharks of his past. He was the only survivor of
the bunch.
Whatʼs scary?
In this one sequence, Robert Shaw is placing you in his shoes, providing every
moody thing one needs to imagine why this shark in this single movie is
something to be feared. Itʼs an emotional unease of a story that never lets up.
Actors: Ellen Burstyn, Max von Sydow, Lee J. Cobb, Jason Miller, Linda Blair
Director: William Friedkin
A damn good scare plays on expectations. Youʼre not expecting some little
white girl to be the embodiment of evil...normally. Itʼs the stupid horns on some
red skin that feels more manageable. But here you are watching twelve-year-old
Linda Blair in some pajamas, stabbing her private parts while cursing up a storm
in front of her mother on some other kind white privileged shit. This girl who
hasnʼt even had the sex talk is defiled, and thereʼs no escapism from that.
Whatʼs scary?
Director William Friedkin is taking this ideal image of purity in a 70s context and
exploiting our religious dogmas all at once—the idea that evil can infiltrate any
soul and can cause the good and bad to do terrible and supernaturally fucked
up things. If you grew up in any kind of religious household, you watched this
horrifying perversion of whatʼs good and believed it to be real, and by example,
assumed that anyone could be corrupted.
Actors: Jaeden Lieberher, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Sophia Lillis, Finn Wolfhard,
Chosen Jacobs
Director: Andy Muschietti
One has to forever give props to IT from 90s miniseries for suggesting that a
child could be killed by a demon clown on prime time television. But in 2017, this
somehow feels all the more extra disturbing with what we know about child
killers. As little, sweet Georgie encounters his killer clown in a sewer, every
viewer understands the inevitable at this point, but we arenʼt expecting a kidʼs
arm to be chomped off in brutal fashion like it just did.
Whatʼs scary?
Clowns are unsettling enough, we've written articles about this shit before.
But itʼs the way which Bill Skarsgård as Pennywise the clown curls his lips. Itʼs in
the moment when he drools and goes still at the sound of Georgieʼs laugh. Like
any child predator, he knows how to play his victim and can hardly hide his
hunger. The whole child screaming in pain without an arm thing is just the icing
on the fucked up cake.
A lot of people were into the blood rushing from the elevator scene, but itʼs all
about the subversion of expectations again in a movie about a haunted hotel
and the man whose goes steadily insane because of it. It should come as no
surprise to see an old naked lady of all things, right?
Whatʼs scary?
When Jack Nicholson ignores the warnings of Room 237, itʼs still a shock to see
this non-hauntingly beautiful woman walk naked out of a bathtub. It's
understandably exciting in the most hormonal way here. But when an angel
changes and we see an old, foul, and halfway rotting body with loud cackles, itʼs
felt right down to the down belows like the coldest of showers.
Satan is a concept that few wouldʼve mocked in the 60s. So the literal idea of
Satan being birthed by a human woman is still absolutely disturbing.
Whatʼs scary?
Pregnancy is difficult on its own, but Rosemaryʼs Baby merges that with a
sexualized violence happening in a several minute stretch that's absolutely
disturbing. We know something is off with Rosemary and her neighbours, but
we can't help her. There are frights that hit us in a moment and lose their
impact, but then thereʼs this. A setting of the unsettling that never sits right.
Misery, Hobbling
“Youʼve been out of your room.” It's this quote from an obsessed fan in Annie
Wilkes played by Kathy Bates that hits hard. Just before this moment, Paul
Sheldon, played by James Caan, is at the mercy of a crazed devotee of his work
following a car accident. Things escalate when questioned about an attempted
escape and we witness the punishment of a lifetime.
Whatʼs scary?
As Annie nurses Paul back to health, director Rob Reiner presents several
shades of a nutso behaviour—from easily offended, to enraged, to patiently
calm. When Paul momentarily finds his way out of a room heʼs been relegated to
for some time, she paces around his bed, calmly telling him a story about
medieval punishments—foreshadowing the obvious fucked-up-ness that
happens next. Sheʼs at her most calm and most mad as she breaks his ankles
with sweet concern.
Whatʼs scary?
The scene itself starts out calm. Just a regular olʼ autopsy that jumps from zero
to 100 the moment a chest cavity alters into a mouth, and then alters into a
fucking spider creature thing. The images mess with the state of whatʼs normal
and gnaws with our denial of how fragile our own human bodies can be in the
most disgusting way.
Over the stretch of this two hour and seven minute thriller, audiences are given
a deep invitation into the detective work of both Detective Somerset (Morgan
Freeman) and Mills (Brad Pitt), as they follow a serial killer framing his murders
around the seven deadly sins. In the end, killer John Doe (Kevin Spacey) claims
to deliver his final sin (Wrath) by letting our guy Mills know—handcuffed with a
gun pointed at his head—that his wife probably dead, and probably in a certain,
freshly delivered box that just arrived in their vicinity.
Whatʼs scary?
Itʼs the white-in-the-face reaction of Morgan Freeman—whose presented as a
detective who is steady and reserved—that does it. We arenʼt given the graphic
details of whatʼs in the box, but we're setup to view a character played by
Gwyneth Paltrow as the purest soul in this movie. When she potentially
becomes the most victimized, in a fashion that can fit in a tiny box, weʼre all
asking the same question, “whatʼs in the box?”
Whatʼs scary?
Itʼs that dead motherly voice over in his head, chronicling a crime, with that slow
zoom on Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates that feels the most wrong. The
whole shot feels isolating with an insane smile that creeps into view. The same
sinister smirk that you may spot on the most normal of persons, without giving it
a second thought as to whether or not theyʼre slightly off.
If youʼre the target audience of this animation (kids into cartoons), you're into
cute things: bunnies, dogs, all that positive shit. But then you find yourself
watching an animated dog rip cute bunnies into shreds while rabies-infected
rabbits go toe to toe.
Whatʼs scary?
This scene has the misery and gloom of an Darren Aronofsky film, and
somehow it manages a G rating. It takes the basic laws of nature, cutesafies
them, and brings it all down to a humanistic and realistic level. Mass murder
never looked so furry.
Actors: Ewan McGregor, Ewen Bremner, Jonny Lee Miller, Kevin McKidd
Director: Danny Boyle
For a Danny Boyle directed movie about drug addiction, youʼre supposed to
expect a certain level of self-destruction. But when Allison (Susan Vidler) is
screaming and we're witnessing a dead baby in a crib, it hits in an nearly
expected way. So fast forward with audiences watching a nightmare sequence
involving Renton, played by Ewan McGregor, where the same baby is alive but
so obviously dead.
Whatʼs scary?
Itʼs the feeling of unease. Youʼve got a baby thatʼs deformed and bloated
crawling on the ceiling of an inescapable room. Then you've got an exorcist-like
head spin viewed from a first person perspective, all set to a pulsating techno
beat. Itʼs a shot that holds on for way too long and moves on far too slowly for
anyone to feel comfortable with what theyʼre seeing.
Ju-on, Staircase
Letʼs get the obvious out the way: the Japanese know their horror like they
know their hentai. They just understand that subtle presentation shit thatʼs
often the best kind of suspense. In this case, we have a plot about a vengeful
spirit that enjoys the marking and pursuit of anyone dumb enough to enter their
places residence. It's a movie that started every single long-black-haired female
ghost that wailed loudly while filtering around like a humanoid trope. And it's
this stairway scene that set a standard.
Whatʼs scary?
It's that crackling sound that every person knows how to make: you hold your
breath and breathe out; that nails-to-chalkboard effect that gets under the skin,
becoming louder with each creep of a womanʼs movements. Thereʼs already
something very unnatural about a person crawling on all fours down a pair of
steps without blinking an eye. But this creature in its agony wants to hurt and
touch this actress all in the same breath.
Actors: Sigourney Weaver, Tom Skerritt, John Hurt Yaphet Kotto, Veronica
Cartwright
Director: Ridley Scott
OK, yes, we all know whatʼs coming in this scene. But when Tom Skerritt is in
that tunnel shitting his pants, as an alien tracker ticks faster and faster—
indicating that something is coming closer—itʼs still hard to be prepared for the
exact moment when an alien comes into view for a deadly hug, causing viewers
to also shit their pants.
Whatʼs scary?
Itʼs the play on the environment. For one, itʼs dark and pitch-black, exploiting
the fears over darkness and claustrophobia. All of that is kicked up a notch with
Veronica Cartwrightʼs frantic performance as Lambert, screaming at our man to
get the fuck out of there. And then comes the trick: he shines a light in our
direction, blinding the view of the actual danger. And without a hint of a camera
shift, we see the alien go in for the hug; cue in the zoomed shot that puts that
ugly mug right to our faces.