I think that one of the reasons I’m writing so much about my decision to stop watching the film Inside because the killer was gonna kill a cat is because on some level I’m ashamed of that decision. As I described in my follow-up post yesterday, cruelty to animals isn’t something I’m phobic of. It’s not something that triggers an on/off switch where I just can’t bear the sight or thought of it. It’s not Room 101 for me. (Although if that’s what was waiting for me in Room 101 I would not like it AT ALL…but nor would I like watching someone be sliced to ribbons either, and obviously I can handle that in films just fine.) I think that for me, cruelty to animals does exist on some kind of overall cruelty continuum. And to the extent that I believe horror is about cruelty–to the extent that cruelty is the aspect of horror I find so compelling–then I feel like on some level I’ve failed by refusing to watch it.
Now, failed as what? A viewer, a critic, a genre buff, an artist, a student of the human condition, a blogger, a film lover, a former film student? I’m not sure I know. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that concern was going on internally, to the point where I immediately felt bad about sending the movie back to Netflix and will likely put it back on my queue and try it again soon. Maybe I’ll try to watch it during a time of day that’s less conducive to an immersive horror-movie experience–a day-lit lunchbreak instead of at night with the lights turned down alone in the house.
Keep in mind that this isn’t the only time I’ve been really upset by something only to want to try and “best it” with a rematch. Perhaps you recall that horrifying Coney Island ride I went on, the Topspinner? I guarantee you I go on one of those again to prove to myself that I didn’t need to be so scared the first time around.
Also keep in mind I’m talking about make-believe animal cruelty, not actual animal cruelty done for the purposes of entertainment a la Cannibal Holocaust. Fuck that with something hard and sandpapery.
I’ve been through that reaction myself, and I want to deconstruct it a bit.
You/I/the critic feels defective for not being able to engage dispassionately or at least with a modicum of self-control with what’s being offered.
Implicit in this are several possibilities, none of which actually makes much sense when hauled out into daylight.
#1. You have an individual duty to be personally open to the entire range of artistic and craftly possibilities. That is, unlike any other field of human endeavor, there’s nothing desirable in a division of labor. In practice, this argument is always made by people who are fine with their own limits of tolerance, and the argument is really “you should always accommodate my tastes”. No. It is perfectly okay not to like an entire genre, to not know every language, to like a genre but not all of its well-crafted manifestations, and so on through all the possibilities.
#2. It is wrong for you to have this particular weakness. But why? What harm does it actually do you or the world to have a particular threshold you do better not crossing? It’s not like the world’s going to run out of good art or fun entertainment of other sorts anytime soon. Anyone who wants to insist otherwise -and this includes our own damn superegos – needs to make an explicit case for the artistic or craftly importance of cruelty to animals, or vomiting, or whatever, and “I happen to like it” is just the same argument as in #1, and no more persuasive in this paragraph.
This is, basically, the same sort of garbage dished up by the mindset that glorifies heretics for the sake of heresy, as opposed to considering whether they’re actually usefully opposing something worth opposing. When it’s put baldly, “It’s wrong for me to feel comfortable” is patent nonsense.
And yes, I actually am pretty passionate about this.
All those things make a lot of sense, Bruce. This is all stuff I’m thinking through in real-time.
I think there are several reasons I have a hard time with my own reaction here.
1) Anyone who wants to insist otherwise -and this includes our own damn superegos – needs to make an explicit case for the artistic or craftly importance of cruelty to animals, or vomiting, or whatever, and “I happen to like it” is just the same argument as in #1, and no more persuasive in this paragraph. True, but my problem is that I’m pretty sure my reaction has nothing to do with the artistic or craftly LACK of importance of cruelty to animals. It’s just something that bugs me. You’ll note that my attempts at coming up with an aesthetic justification for my reaction, back in that first post, were somewhat half-hearted. Still, if Inside were on the level of The Texas Chain Saw Massacare or The Sopranos we might not even be having this discussion, so maybe I’m being too hard on myself.
2) What harm does it actually do you or the world to have a particular threshold you do better not crossing? It’s interfering with my shonen-style desire to be the best horror blogger EVER! 🙂 Seriously, I like to be able to watch, evaluate, and write about any old horror movie I choose. I enjoy myself less to the extent that I can’t. (Again, excepting a really bright-line ethics case like Cannibal Holocaust.)
2)
From SKELETON CREW and the story The Man Who Would Not Shake Hands:
“I was filled with a very specific dread – the kind that will nevertheless not quite crystallize into an actual fear with a fixed object, because it is too awful, too unbelievable to actually be considered.”
I’d read this quote from the narrator the other day before reading your initial post on watching INSIDE and it struck me that THIS is the kind of reaction you had to that cat scene in the film.
And forget classifying it as “failing,” man. If anything, you let the film in in the exact ways the filmmakers wanted. That true reaction to it all is a success on all parts if you ask me and exactly the kind of stuff I want to read on your (or any) blog – that true, personal reaction.
Rest secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be a better man than I for surviving that vomit-inducing Coney ride. Pussy out all you want, you’ve earned the right.
Rickey: I think that’s giving them too much credit. “Emotionally involving the audience is easy. Anybody can do it blindfolded–get a little kitten and have some guy wring its neck.” -George Lucas (attrib.)
CRwM: It wasn’t motion sickness that got me, it was fear of heights/imminent death. HORRIFYING.
I’m not saying it’s not easy – just what was intended. And your true reaction to it isn’t a failure.
I go to your website on occasion and I must mention that I like your template!