How to Write a Horror Movie

The last horror movie I paid money to see was The Exorcist in 19 whenever-it-was. I was old enough to know better. Since then, I’ve lived a full and rewarding life without ever again shelling out coin for cheap adrenaline thrills. Actually, I’ve had the hell scared out of me for real a couple of times, and I’m in no great hurry to have those feelings artificially induced. Besides, contemporary horror movies are totally unimaginative. For the most part, they’re just a series of heart-jolting surprises, stuck together with bursts of exaggerated gore — literally. Let me show you how it’s done. Here’s a simple three part program that will help you write your own horror movie, and depending on how ambitious you are, take you to the very gates of Horror Movie Heaven: The Slasher Franchise. SPOILER ALERT (If you watch Horror Movies for the storyline, stop reading right now.)

First of all, horror movies are driven by the vivid portrayal of a single requisite character: the half-naked young woman. She is as essential to the horror movie as the horse is to the Western. If you don’t have at least one girl falling out of what’s left of her clothes, you simply don’t have a horror movie. Ideally, you need one Alpha female and a couple of expendable best friends (who get butchered early on, to prove the villain/monster/psycho is serious.) Strangers will do, but it’s better if the skanks know each other. The Alpha female needs a bit of a personality — perhaps a name or a hair style. But don’t sweat the details for the rest of the girls; they’re just there to lose their clothes and do some screaming.

You also need a boyfriend (he can be a husband as long as he’s newly-minted.) The boyfriend/husband is the catalyst that causes all the problems. He’s the guy who ignores everybody’s advice to get the hell out of there and convinces them all to hang around and get slaughtered. He comes with his own set of friends, usually a larger, stronger man and an idiot. The larger, stronger guy gets hacked up somewhere around halftime to prove the villain/monster/psycho can’t be stopped, and the idiot is there for comic relief. He runs around doing stupid stuff, but nothing much ever happens to him. Likewise, the boyfriend/husband is rarely killed; however, he must suffer at least one (and sometimes more) debilitating injuries. This allows the Alpha female to jump up at the last moment and save his dumb ass.

Secondly, you have to drop everybody’s IQ by about 50%. Once again, this is a fundamental feature of the horror movie. The future corpses have to be dumb as a box of hammers and take an active part in their own demise. For example, when confronted by a dark, rambling mansion, deserted campsite, scary island or what-have-you, they must do the stupidest thing possible: split up and go exploring. Together, they could probably protect themselves or possibly even beat the villain/monster/psycho bloody; individually, however, they’re just candidates for a toe tag. Nor should you let your characters arm themselves with anything more dangerous than a toothbrush. The villain/monster/psycho should have any number of ingenious hacking/stabbing/slashing weapons available to him, but your folks should never even think of picking up a rock. Nor should they grab a garden tool, a kitchen knife, a heavy book of poetry or — heaven forbid — in a country as gun crazy as America, a pistol. There is a willing suspension of disbelief in all movies, but the coffin fodder of horror flics must defy all reasonable logic. Therefore, they should run headlong down blind alleys; wander aimlessly in dark, creaky hallways, basements and derelict buildings, and never — under any circumstances – bring a flashlight or simply turn on the lights. In short, they should be stupid enough to get outwitted by sheep.

Third, and least importantly, you need a villain/monster/psycho. Actually, this guy really doesn’t matter; all he needs to be is somewhat grotesque, clearly demented and have a steady supply of sharp and/or pointy things to jab into people. The only important thing to remember is NEVER kill him off at the end of the movie – just in case the studio wants to pick up an option on Freddy Jason Myers, Part II.

So there you have it. All you need to do is write it up. Yeah, yeah, yeah! You’re going to need a plot (maybe) scene selection, action and dialogue, but these are just tricks of the trade you can pick up along the way. Or, you can forget about all that and go buy some old Archie Comics, piece together a couple of their adventures, add a villain/monster/psycho to massacre a few of them, and you’re practically half way to Hollywood. Oops! Somebody’s already done that. Oh well! Nobody’s going to notice.

Halloween: The Movies are Horrible

Reprinted by popular demand.

As of right now, it’s less than 10 days until Hallowe’en, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to take much more of this. Make no mistake: I love Hallowe’en. It’s my favourite occasion after Christmas, St Paddy’s Day and the Summer Solstice (I think I was a Druid in a past life.) The problem is, like a lot of good things on this planet, idiots have got hold of Hallowe’en and they’re hell-bent on ruining it. Every year it’s the same: one minute after Columbus Day, they trot out the Horror movies. Then it’s wall-to-wall gore until the sugar shock wears off November 1st. For the last nine days, our 500 channel universe has been turned into a butcher shop, and it doesn’t look like the carnage is going to let up any time soon. So far, I’ve managed to avoid Friday the 13^th in about 20 of its repetitious incarnations, Nightmare on Elm Street parts 1 through 35 and the entire Halloween franchise — except for about three minutes of Resurrection when I got the wrong Mike Myers. If I don’t see a decent movie soon, I swear I’m going to buy Netflix.

Let me put this into perspective so we’re all on the same page. Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, what’s-his-name with the hockey mask and anybody else with a chainsaw, pick axe or pointy stick have nothing to do with Hallowe’en. These guys and their horrible movies were invented by Hollywood to cash in on the universal need for teenage boys to get close to teenage girls — who are looking for an excuse to let them. (This little drop of human nature BTW, hasn’t changed since the Stone Age, but now it’s worth millions.) That’s where horror movies came from — not from Hallowe’en. Hallowe’en has never been about half-naked young women and dumbass young men getting their entrails splattered from here to Main Street. Nor is it about the lunatics, maniacs, evil spirits and just plain nasty folks who stalk them. These are all modern creations, designed to separate unsuspecting youth from their money.

For the record, here’s the Twitter version of how Hallowe’en came about in the first place. Despite all the ghosts and goblins, Hallowe’en actually started out as a quasi-religious holiday, back in the way back days. This was at a time when Christians were battling Pagans for the collective souls of the European multitudes. Religious marketing was at its cutthroat best. As I’ve said before, the early Christians weren’t stupid, and they incorporated a lot of pagan traditions into their rituals to ease the masses into accepting Jesus as their personal Saviour. In those days, pagans (and most Christians) believed that unsatisfied souls walked the night, and they could, on occasion, mete out some pretty mean-spirited (pun intended) retribution on the living — if they saw fit. The church decided that November 1^st, Hallowmas, a day that already honoured the saints, would be a good opportunity for people to pray for the souls of the recently dead; thus, aiding their journey to heaven and getting them away from the God-fearing living. Since midnight masses were de rigueur in those days, the church services took place at night or on All Hallows’ Eve. (Sound familiar? We know it in its corrupted form as “Hallowe’en.”) However, the nouveaux Christians of the day continued to hedge their bets. On their way to church, they wore cloaks, masks and even costumes – all to disguise themselves from the assembled apparitions who were hanging around consecrated ground, awaiting prayers of deliverance. In addition, some of the poorer members of the parish would accept coins or food from the wealthier patrons to add their prayers for the dear departed. That’s it: the time, the place, the costumes, the tricks and the treats. There’s a lot more to it, but for bare bones, it serves our purpose.

If you notice, there were no chainsaws, axes, heavy mallets or ball peen hammers. There were no knives, swords, machetes, garden forks, shovels or soup spoons. Nobody got stabbed, jabbed, poked or prodded. Nobody was torn limb from limb, dismembered, eviscerated or even bruised. It wasn’t a bloodbath, nor even a slight rinse. Originally, and for most of its history, Hallowe’en was spooky, creepy, perhaps even a little frightening, but murder and mayhem were never on the agenda. It’s only recently that it’s been turned into a three-week multi-channel splatterfest.

Friday: How to Write a Horror Movie

Hallowe’en: No Time for Horror Movies

As of right now, it’s two weeks until Hallowe’en, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to take much more of this. Make no mistake: I love Hallowe’en. It’s my favourite occasion after Christmas, St Paddy’s Day and the Summer Solstice (I think I was a Druid in a past life.) The problem is, like a lot of good things on this planet, idiots have got hold of Hallowe’en and they’re hell-bent on ruining it. Every year it’s the same: one minute after Columbus Day, they trot out the Horror movies. Then it’s wall-to-wall gore until the sugar shock wears off November 1st. For the last nine days, our 500 channel universe has been turned into a butcher shop, and it doesn’t look like the carnage is going to let up any time soon. So far, I’ve managed to avoid Friday the 13^th in about 20 of its repetitious incarnations, Nightmare on Elm Street parts 1 through 35 and the entire Halloween franchise — except for about three minutes of Resurrection when I got the wrong Mike Myers. If I don’t see a decent movie soon, I swear I’m going to buy Netflix.

Let me put this into perspective so we’re all on the same page. Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, what’s-his-name with the hockey mask and anybody else with a chainsaw, pick axe or pointy stick have nothing to do with Hallowe’en. These guys and their horrible movies were invented by Hollywood to cash in on the universal need for teenage boys to get close to teenage girls — who are looking for an excuse to let them. (This little drop of human nature BTW, hasn’t changed since the Stone Age, but now it’s worth millions.) That’s where horror movies came from — not from Hallowe’en. Hallowe’en has never been about half-naked young women and dumbass young men getting their entrails splattered from here to Main Street. Nor is it about the lunatics, maniacs, evil spirits and just plain nasty folks who stalk them. These are all modern creations designed to separate unsuspecting youth from their money.

For the record, here’s the Twitter version of how Hallowe’en came about in the first place. Despite all the ghosts and goblins, Hallowe’en actually started out as a quasi-religious holiday, back in the way back days. This was at a time when Christians were battling Pagans for the collective souls of the European multitudes. Religious marketing was at its cutthroat best. As I’ve said before, the early Christians weren’t stupid and they incorporated a lot of pagan traditions into their rituals to ease the masses into accepting Jesus as their personal saviour. In those days, pagans (and most Christians) believed that unsatisfied souls walked the night, and they could, on occasion, mete out some pretty mean-spirited (pun intended) retribution on the living — if they saw fit. The church decided that November 1^st, Hallowmas, a day that already honoured the saints would be a good opportunity for people to pray for the souls of the recently dead, thus, aiding their journey to heaven and getting them away from the God fearing living. Since midnight masses were de rigueur in those days, the church services took place at night or on All Hallows’ Eve. (Sound familiar? We know it in its corrupted form as “Hallowe’en.”) However, the nouveaux Christians of the day continued to hedge their bets. On their way to church, they wore cloaks, masks and even costumes – all to disguise themselves from the assembled apparitions who were hanging around consecrated ground, awaiting prayers of deliverance. In addition, some of the poorer members of the parish would accept coins or food from the wealthier patrons to add their prayers for the dear departed. That’s it: the time, the place, the costumes, the tricks and the treats. There’s a lot more to it, but for bare bones it serves our purpose.

Next Week: How to Write a Horror Movie, and Whatever Happened to Spooky?

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