The Fine Line between Fetishization and Representation

In his essay “Why We Crave Horror Movies”, Stephen King explains that we crave horror movies as a catharsis for our own violent, insane urges. They give us a way to “become children again, seeing things in pure blacks and whites” and “allow our emotions free rein.” Some people are attracted to horror which examines the psyche, allows us to bear witness and understand the fucked up aspects of our society. Some people are attracted to horror which explores grief, and the legacy of a painful, unjust death. Then we have people who are attracted to horror which is gratuitously and graphically gory — pain for the sake of pain, cruelty for the sake of exposing the depth of human depravity. Movies like Hostel, the Collector, and The Human Centipede, to name a few. 

Arguably, there is nothing particularly morally depraved about enjoying a bit of gore. Those who are highly empathetic may be unable to witness such sights and therefore look down upon gore-enjoyers, but if gory movies be the food of quelling our violent urges; by all means, play on. It’s better to be honest about it, watch a little violent romp like Hostel, and move on, then suppress it and face the consequences later. However, when does it cross a line? Where does the boundary exist between catharsis and depravity? 

One case study will be a comparison between Jordan Peele’s directorial debut Get Out and Lena Waithe’s Amazon drama Them. Get Out addressed the violent and racist underbelly of so-called “color blind” America with subtlety and grace. The violence was honest, but not gratuitous. Terrifying, but not exploitative. While Them centers on racist violence in the 1950’s, the most important difference lies within the choices surrounding the depiction of violence; most importantly, who the depiction was for. Angelica Bastien, writer for Vulture, points out that in the very first episode, “it explains the Great Migration in text overlaying the screen, tipping its hand that it is not for Black audiences at all, but everyone else.”

The trauma porn that follows thereafter is rendered immediately unforgiveable because it truly is a fetishization of race-based violence. When gratuitous violence towards oppressed peoples is depicted for the sake of their oppressors, that is when a boundary is crossed. It’s the classic punching up vs. punching down model of deciding boundaries. Take the aforementioned movie Hostel, which does not necessarily punch down with its gratuitous violence. The victims are pretty shitty people - the worst kinds of tourists you’ll ever meet. Furthermore, tourist economies are harmful and unstable, so their presence - whether intentionally directly harmful or not, relies on a system which subjugates the local populations. The fact that the elites torturing them are decidedly shittier, richer people should not be downplayed by any means, nor the fact that the tourists in question may be subjugated in their home states. However, the focus is placed on demonizing a tourist economy, and so the violence depicted does not necessarily cross a line.

Now, take Grady Hendrix’s My Best Friend’s Exorcism and The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Vampire Slaying. The first time I read them, I honestly thought they were written by a woman. Though women’s body parts are put on display and there is some decidedly disturbing violence within these two horror novels, the vulgarity is not voyeuristic. Hendrix navigates the boundary with grace; the context in which we see domestic violence against young women and systemic violence against black families (specifically children) is never for the sake of depiction. Hendrix exposes the reader to horror not to titillate or satisfy their urge, but to antagonize their voyeurism. He establishes a horror of voyeurism instead of a voyeuristic horror. Never has an author made me want to say #NotAllMaleWriters like Grady Hendrix has, and even though he is likely not perfect, and probably reaching a decidedly low bar in terms of respecting women in his stories, writers seeking to depict violence, especially those violent horrors the social groups to which they do not belong to experience, should model their representations off of artists like Grady Hendrix and Jordan Peele, instead of Lena Waithe.