Guest Author - Lisette BC Abbott

One of the most frightening experiences is to be completely at the mercy of somebody or something else. This somebody or something else can be nature. We humans like to fool ourselves thinking that we can control nature, even so far as trying to prevent hurricanes or tornadoes. But we can't. In reality, we're at the mercy of such natural phenomena, and that's why so many movies are made about this. Movies like Twister or The Perfect Storm explore this idea of humans desperately trying to remain in control while being confronted by some wrathful nature. Other movies that explore this idea are some of my favorites: The Exorcist and Jaws. Yes, these two movies are seemingly wildly different, but if we get beyond the superficial level of characters, actions, and even story line, we can see that fundamentally the two deal with the same idea--the loss of control. In Jaws, we had an angry shark willfully terrorizing a small community, and in The Exorcist we had a peeved devil willfully terrorizing a family, especially a young girl. By watching and analyzing these movies we see their premise: humans really aren't in control, after all. However, with both of these movies, and in fact with many horror movies, humans are elevated in importance in that the terrorizing force deliberately seeks us out. By doing so, humans are placed on an equal footing with the terrorizer. Frankly, that's pretty arrogant of us.

I have a friend who thinks The Exorcist is funny. She can't get beyond the makeup and the infamous split-pea soup. I, on the other hand, having been raised to believe that the devil is a very real being and who deliberately walks around looking for souls to possess and damn, found The Exorcist to be one of the scariest movies I'd ever seen. Yes, the makeup can look a bit silly, especially with the fact that we movie goers have been spoiled by today's technological advances. Nevertheless, what's utterly horrifying with The Exorcist is, again, the loss of control. Or perhaps it's not the loss of control that's frightening, but the fact that we may never have really been in control in the first place. We pride ourselves in living nice orderly lives, working at nice orderly jobs, and having nice orderly families. But something sinister is lurking just beneath the surface--the manifestation of the reality that we were never in control to begin with.

Which brings me to my current favorite movie: Open Water. Open Water best exemplifies horror in the mundane. An ordinary couple takes time off from their ordinary and busy schedules to go on an ordinary vacation by the seaside. Once there, they decide to go on a deep-sea diving expedition with other ordinary couples. The movie, shot entirely in digital media, effectively creates a viewing atmosphere that lends an interesting facet of realism. During many scenes, we hear no background music. All we hear are the lapping of the waves or the thunderous explosions of lightning. Viewers can't help but feel they're actually with this couple, buying trinkets and exploring the island. If the movie kept the couple on the island we viewers might've happily continued alongside the couple's exploration. Or we might've become bored and moved on to other, terrifying fare.

Nevertheless, the movie doesn't allow the couple to remain safe on shore, but rather takes them out to sea. Deep sea. In fact, open waters sea--the kind of deep sea that all anyone can see around her is nothing but open water and the occasional tankard.

Open Water brilliantly explores the couple's actions and reactions to their circumstances, allowing viewers to vicariously experience their anger, frustration, fear, terror, and finally submission to the inevitable. During one aptly metaphoric scene, we see the flippers of Susan, the female half of the couple, languidly treading water while inches below are likewise languidly-swimming sharks--utter lack of control just beneath the surface. What makes Open Water so different from Jaws is the fact that the sharks in Open Water are not demonized. They're not "hunting" humans nor do they have a particular vendetta against us, as is the case in Jaws, Jaws 2, ad infinitum. No, the sharks in Open Water are even more terrifying precisely because they're indifferent to humans. We are not regarded as some enemy, thereby on equal footing with them. It's the complete opposite: we are simply a curiosity and, when the shark's hungry, food. Nothing more, nothing less.

And that can be quite horrific, when we humans realize we're not as important in the grand scheme of things as we like to think we are. For that reason, Open Water is much more terrifying than The Exorcist and Jaws. After all, when we realize our own inconsequentiality--in the grand scheme of things--do we truly humble ourselves before the vastness of the universe, of God if you will. When we experience and recognize this sublime humility for what it is, we experience a terrifying sense of nothingness. However, this nothingness can now be filled with joy, abundance, and everything that makes life so beautiful. This is the power of horror ... and the relevance of horror.