Jack won’t watch scary movies with me.
This time of year I always get all excited about scary movies in theaters and ghost shows on TV. And there is nobody who will watch them with me. Which is so not good, because that means I have to either go to the scary movie by myself or watch it by myself at home on TV and then watch Comedy Central for at least 30 minutes afterward so I can go to bed without thinking I’m going to open my eyes and see a very bad person standing really, really still in the doorway.
I like to watch Ghost Adventures, which I think would be scarier if the host guy wasn’t such a d-bag, but which still makes me think I see a little ball of light in the hallway out of the corner of my eye. Oh, and Ghost Hunters International, in which the people once went to Wolf’s Lair in Poland and taunted. The ghost. Of HITLER.
Such a bad idea. Lose-lose. No good for anybody. What are you doing?!
I want to see Dream House. I figure it has to be good because Daniel Craig and Naomi Watts and Rachael Weisz are in it, and why would they waste their time on a crappy horror flick? They wouldn’t. So I want to see it.
I’ve spent two weeks watching a bunch of previews for the new FX series, American Horror Story, with Connie Britton and Jessica Lange and Dylan McDermott (who is not scary at all, knowwhatimsayin’?). And I’ve thought it looks totally freaky and I’ve been so excited.
And when I got home from work Wednesday night, The Exorcism of Emily Rose was on cable. Ohhhhh, but that movie freaked. Me. OUT when I saw it in the theater a few years ago with my friend Jay. For days, I was afraid to wake up at 3:00am. Weeks, even.
It’s what Jack calls a “devil movie.”
“I’m not watching any devil movies!” he tells me when I poke him about watching something scary with me.
He did actually watch about an hour of The Exorcism of Emily Rose once, on TV. Allegedly. I wasn’t there, so I can only take him at his word. I don’t know which hour, but if it was the first hour, then he was probably pretty skeeved. That’s the hour where all the really OMG stuff happens. Emily Rose goes to college and gets possessed and winds up convulsing all over the place and eating spiders and jumping from her knees to her feet and back to her knees again in the corner of a room with, like, mindbending speed–
–or is she just suffering a rare form of epilepsy so severe that it causes psychotic episodes and hallucinations of the Virgin Mary? You walk away from the movie trying to figure out if demons are real and denying them means you’re making God sad, or if all those people who supposedly had demons back in the proverbial Day were actually just mentally ill. And then that leads to wondering whether the supposedly mentally ill among us are actually possessed by demons.
You don’t know.
Alright, fine, you probably know, but it’s still spooky. And since Jack and I are both Catholic, the possession/exorcism thing is more real for us and makes those movies even scarier.
I love that.
I hate fake scary movies. If it’s not something that could actually happen in real life, it’s not going to scare me. Some burned up guy with blades for hands? Please. Never gonna happen. A guy who climbs out of a lake with a hockey mask on? Nope. A leprechaun with a voracious appetite? Dumb. I’ll admit that dolls and clowns scare the bejeesus out of me, which is completely unreasonable, but those are both universally regarded as creepy, so it’s not a failure of logic so much as it’s an inexplicable, but established, wrong. But you give me a call that’s coming from inside the house, or a fleeting human figure flashing noiselessly past a doorway in shadow so that you’re not quite sure whether you saw something or not, or a family man who loses his mind and picks up an ax, or a recurring nightmare that leaves you so sleepless that you can’t tell whether it’s real or not when it seems to start actually happening during your waking hours… I’m a sucker for that.
In the itty bitty hours of Thursday morning, I actually watched the pilot of American Horror Story (after I watched the end of The Exorcism of Emily Rose). And honestly, it didn’t “scare” me as much as it made me sort of go, “What the hell is going on here?” It introduced a lot of craziness that is probably supposed to confuse me, and explained just enough to make me go, “No. Way. That is messed up!”
Can’t wait for the next episode.
Meanwhile, Jack and I are watching Game 5 of the NLDS together tonight. He’s from St. Louis. I’m from Philly.
This is going to be terrifying.
How do you react to scary movies? What’s your favorite scary movie?