Politicizing the Horrific: How American Anxieties Play Out on Screen

Written by Matthew Jones

*Contains some spoilers for The Purge: Election Year (2016), The Witch (2016), and Get Out (2017).

It is not new or revolutionary to connect the political and social realities of our times to films that we produce and consume. There is a longstanding tradition of drawing political theory from film, and producing films with specific political motivations. As far back as the 1920’s, films from the Soviet Union were produced with the sole intention of promoting socialism and national unity. It could be argued that the vast majority of American war films also have a nationalistic message and pro-democracy slant. Setting aside these more overt examples, it is especially prevalent to read underlying political messages in horror films. Contemporary analyses of the genre have led film historians and critics to theorize that trends in horror films often reflect larger trends in politics. For example, the rise of zombie films in Hollywood tends to coincide with the rise of far-right, conservative parties. These are rather broad trends, both simple in nature and readily identifiable by mass audiences. However, there has been a fracture in American politics in recent years that has been both complex and far-reaching. This fracture, which has many moving parts and intricacies to account for, has been more difficult to see in films. It is most evident in the recent and controversial election of Donald Trump, as well as the rise of the Alt-Right movement, and conversely, with the meteoric rise and popularity of Bernie Sanders, an outspoken socialist and progressive politician, along with such movements as Occupy Wall Street. The nation, as a whole, is simultaneously perceived as having strayed far to the left, becoming more secular under the presidency of Barack Obama, and at the very same time more traditional and reactionary, clinging to Christian fundamentalism and racial discrimination. Income inequality, gun violence, gay rights, climate change, abortion, and religious zealotry, among many other issues, have all exacerbated concerns that the country is careening toward some unknown and possibly terrifying end. And Hollywood has tapped into these fears; catering films to niche audiences that see these issues differently and generally hold vastly different political, moral, and religious views (one would not think that the same people who went to see Heaven Is For Real would also be inclined to visit the theater for Nymphomaniac). But filmmakers have pandered to their audience for decades, and there is very little evidence that this practice has become more pronounced in any major way. Nonetheless, the fractures in American society are not lost in the films we watch. While we may not see notable trends in the popularity of certain genres or subgenres, we can see these fractures within the individual narratives, and our own interpretations of those narratives. This is particularly true of horror films, as they are a unique genre, insofar as the primary aim of a horror film is to frighten its audience. If a certain horror film uses elements that the audience does not find frightening, it falls flat, and fails to execute its intended purpose. Therefore, horror films must implement those things that frighten us.

There is always an element of fear entangled in politics, to varying degrees and in a variety of ways. Politicians use fear for their own purposes, often to cast the opposition party or candidate in a negative light. Groups and individuals use fear to incite violence or chaos, and many people fear that the government or corporations are gaining too much power over their lives. This causes some of our most basic fears as human beings, regarding survival and general well being, to be played out at the ballot box. But, more often than not, all of our complex fears and anxieties are channeled into a singular fear of ‘The Other,’ the invisible enemy that (we believe) undermines our values and can, if left to its own devices, ultimately lead to our destruction. For some, it can be the opposing political party, for others, it can be a different religion or skin color or culture. We are always looking for a scapegoat, someone to embody and justify our fears, something to help set ourselves up as good and righteous by comparison. It has always been a trope of the horror genre to establish a dichotomy between two distinct ideologies (Good vs. Evil, Normal vs. Abnormal, Human vs. Inhuman, etc.), and these distinctions allow for horror films to be easily read as political in nature. The horror filmmakers find what scares us, what keeps us awake at night, and then use those fears within narratives containing two polarized elements that are ostensibly apolitical, to then be read as political. Looking at the following films: The Purge: Election Year (2016), The Witch (2016), and Get Out (2017), it is evident that recent horror films showcase the increasing fracture and polarization of American politics, and benefit from national anxieties and paranoia regarding the future of the nation.

Just like its predecessors, The Purge: Election Year centers on a national holiday (of sorts), during which all crimes, including murder, are made legal. This holiday, known simply as the Purge, was created by the ruling party, The New Founding Fathers or NFFA. At the beginning of the film, riots break out all over Washington D.C. in anticipation of the election and in protest of the Purge. Charlie Roan, a senator running against the ruling party’s candidate, sees the Purge as a tool of the rich and powerful to wipe out the poor and disenfranchised. The day before the annual Purge, the NFFA rescinds a rule stating that government officials cannot be killed, paving the way for them to assassinate Roan and remain in power. “Murder Tourists” flood US airports, excitedly entering the country to watch and/or participate in the Purge. As the Purge begins, chaos ensues; various assailants, including a Neo-Nazi squad working on behalf of the NFFA, chase Roan through the city. This game of cat-and-mouse culminates in a ritualistic mass at a cathedral, conducted by Minister Owens, Roan’s opponent in the presidential race.

The Purge: Election Year (2016)

The second film, The Witch, follows a devoutly Christian family in 17^th century New England. After being forced from the local community over a dispute regarding different biblical interpretations, William, Katherine, and their four children move far from the village, and settle near an ominous forest. Soon after the move, Katherine gives birth to Samuel. While playing with his sister, Samuel suddenly disappears. It is revealed to the audience that Samuel was abducted and killed by a witch living in the woods. The family quickly falls to infighting, with much of the blame for his disappearance falling on their eldest daughter, Thomasin. Though the family lacks food and money, and is terrorized by Satanic apparitions and disturbances, they continue to cling to their faith.

In the final and most recent film, Get Out, a young black man, Chris, is apprehensive to meet the parents of his white girlfriend, Rose. As Chris spends more time with her family, he notices that something is amiss. The family’s black servants act very strangely, and Rose’s mother insists on hypnotizing Chris, under the guise of helping him quit smoking. When Chris tries to escape the family, Rose admits her role in deceiving him, revealing that Rose’s parents habitually abduct black people, hypnotize them, and transplant the consciousness of older white people into their bodies. The victims are forced to live in a subdued state, at the mercy of the controlling white consciousness. Rose’s father claims that they choose black people because they are “the in fad.”

All three films operate as horror films (Get Out is the only one considered a ‘horror-comedy’), with the horror stemming from various sources. In The Purge, the horror comes from the unrestrained violence that society (within the film) allows. Anybody can commit any heinous act they desire during the Purge without consequences. In The Witch, the horror stems from religious anxieties, both in regard to the unknown consequences of sin, as well as the fear of religious persecution. And finally, in Get Out, the fear of racial discrimination, as well as the fear of becoming a slave, create the horror. In all three films, horror also stems from more simplistic and biological fears, those things that we find horrifying at a basic, physical level. In The Purge, the maniacs and NFFA are unsettling and merciless, violent and able to cause harm without remorse. In The Witch, the evil lurking outside the woods is both violent and gruesome to look at, with the witches portrayed as old, grotesque women. And in Get Out, the white attackers seem completely cold to the plight of the black characters, and the black characters under hypnosis are akin to helpless zombies, unable to escape their tortured existence. But there is one element of horror that is present in all three films and underlies each narrative, and that is paranoia. In The Witch and Get Out, the paranoia is more overt, and a centerpiece of the film’s story; in one, it is the paranoia regarding white people and fear of being tricked or brainwashed into submission, and in the other, paranoia within a family and fear of God’s wrath. Lastly, in The Purge, paranoia is an essential part of what makes the premise so frightening. Every citizen is susceptible to being violently murdered or tortured at any moment, and not only is it legal, but the government actually encourages and facilitates the slaughter.

It is this paranoia that displays the underlying fracture in American politics. The fear of “the Other,” the fear of unchecked violence, the fear of religious or racial persecution, the fear of unchecked governmental power; no matter the political affiliation, any viewer can read these films as speaking to their innermost fears, and by extension, our larger societal anxieties. This can be further analyzed by the seemingly contradictory and disparate reviews and interpretations of these films. Adam Holtz of Plugged In writes that the narrative in The Witch focuses so much on “wickedness” with “no godly counter and certainly no happy ending.” (Holtz), while Simon Abrams classifies the film as a “feminist narrative” that “feels more like a sermon.” He continues by stating unequivocally that the film is “about women, and the patriarchal stresses that lead to their disenfranchisement” (Abrams). The first review, which is primarily concerned with how ‘family friendly’ the film is, laments The Witch’s lack of hopeful optimism and clear-cut Christian reinforcement, while the second one reads the film as a sermon on the crushing nature of patriarchy and religious fundamentalism in colonial America.

The Witch (2016)

In John Semley’s scathing review of The Purge, he painted the film as having contradictory motives. He wrote that the The Purge “delights in images of excessive, cartoonish, aestheticized violence…[but] at the same time, its ostensible message is that excessive, cartoonish, aestheticized violence is bad and wrong and that we should feel bad about indulging it” (Semley et al). However, Andrew O’hehir, while not finding the film entirely worthy of praise, did see it as a glimmer of hope and a source of escapism from our bleak reality. He wrote that The Purge is “a mind-numbingly obvious political allegory,” but at the same time provides “a more idealistic vision of democracy than any currently available in the so-called real world of Trump and Brexit and post-partisan meltdown.” He believed that the story emphasized “sacrifice and heroism, a story of redemption and renewal and cross-racial working-class solidarity” and showed “the American people finally reclaiming their destiny from the tiny clique of gated-community wealthocrats who run everything” (O’hehir).

In Joe Jarvis’ review of Get Out, he described the narrative as “a vehicle for a racial agenda.” He elaborated, arguing that the film aimed to convince African-American viewers that they “cannot trust white people,” but that the police, and by extension the entire government, should be trusted as they “are only there to help, even when it seems intrusive” (Jarvis). While the reviewer praised the film’s artistry and entertainment value, he saw the subversive message as being ultimately detrimental to African-American viewers and their perception of white Americans. Armond White of the National Review had an even more negative take on the film, decrying it as a “state-of-the-divided nation movie.” He wrote that the director, Jordan Peele, “exploits racial discomfort, irresponsibly playing racial grief and racist relief off against each other, subjecting imagination and identification to political sway.” In this review, the film is simply opportunistic; a well timed attempt to allow white liberals to relish in their recognition of current racial injustices, while feeding off of and fueling African-American fears and paranoia (White). However, in Walker MacMurdo’s glowing review of the film, he wrote that the filmmaker intends to comment on the “quotidian horror of life in black America: You can make all of the right decisions, and still find yourself in mortal danger by being in the wrong place at the wrong time” (MacMurdo).

Get Out (2017)

It must be said that just about every film of every genre has contradictory reviews. Even Get Out, which was (almost) universally praised by critics, had its detractors. But in these reviews, it is not necessarily the reviewer’s perception of the overall quality of the film that truly matters. It is how they go about analyzing and politicizing the films, and what this says about the state of the cinema and the nation, both in regard to filmmaking and film viewership. Was The Witch a secular attack on Christian values or an overly religious rumination on feminism and the evils of patriarchy? Did The Purge force audiences to face the issue of gun violence in America, or did it provide a much-needed escape from the horrors of reality? Was Get Out anti-white propaganda, or biting satire, commenting on the plight of African-Americans? Depending on your perspective, any of these analyses could be true. The point is that all three films gain from our collective paranoia and the fractured political sphere that we now exist in. No matter if you are rich or poor, christian or atheist, conservative or liberal, white or black, these films aim to get under your skin, to pry at your anxieties. And it is not just limited to these three. The current trend in horror is the acquisition of hyper-politicized themes and narratives to draw in audiences and breathe life into our pre-existing unease. This is also evident in The Invitation (2015), Green Room (2015), Don’t Breathe (2016), and 10 Cloverfield Lane (2016), among others.

While paranoia and political undertones are nothing new in horror films, there has been a recent escalation in films that play on the ever-widening gap that exists in American politics. Whether it is use of a gang of Neo-Nazis, a demagogue with absolute power, seemingly normal white people with sinister, racially-motivated intentions, or even Satan himself, nothing is more effective in horror than seeing our innermost fears played out on screen. These films operate as dark caricatures of our reality, energizing our increasingly biased and one-sided view of the world. With the introduction of ‘alternative facts’ into our collective vocabulary and increasing distrust of our media and institutions, paranoia has quickly become a defining characteristic of American society, thus solidifying the success of these kinds of films. And once fear and paranoia take hold, we look to these horror films, either to escape reality, or to try to answer the question: What can we do?

Abrams, Simon. “The Witch Movie Review & Film Summary (2016) | Roger Ebert.”RogerEbert.com. Ebert Digital LLC, 18 Feb. 2016. Web. 20 Mar. 2017.<http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/the-witch-2016&gt;.

Holz, Adam. “The Witch | Movie Review.” Plugged In. Focus on the Family, 16 May. Web. 25 Mar. 2017. <http://www.pluggedin.com/movie-reviews/the-witch-2016/&gt;.

Jarvis, Joe. “How The Movie “Get Out” Is a Genius Piece of Racial Propaganda.” The Daily Bell. Blacksmith Pte. Ltd., 6 Mar. 2017. Web. 23 Mar. 2017.<http://www.thedailybell.com/news-analysis/how-the-movie-get-out-is-a-genius-piece-of-racial-propaganda/&gt;.

Macmurdo, Walker. “Get Out Is As Good As Everyone Says It Is.” Willamette Week.Williamette Week, 28 Feb. 2017. Web. 20 Mar. 2017. <http://www.wweek.com/arts/movies/2017/02/28/get-out-is-as-good-as-everyone-says-it-is/&gt;.

O’Hehir, Andrew. “Which Is Stupider: “The Purge: Election Year” or the Total Insanity of the Real World?” Salon. Salon Media Group, Inc., 3 July 2016. Web. 21 Mar. 2017.<http://www.salon.com/2016/07/02/which_is_stupider_the_purge_election_year_or_the_total_insanity_of_the_real_world/&gt;.

Semley, John, and James DeMonaco. “Latest Film in Purge Franchise Achieves Apex of Idiocy.” The Globe and Mail. Special to The Globe and Mail, 12 July 2016. Web. 17 Mar. 2017. <http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/film/film-reviews/latest-film-in-purge-franchise-achieves-apex-of-idiocy/article30713076/&gt;.

White, Armond. “Return of the Get-Whitey Movie.” National Review. National Review, 24 Feb. 2017. Web. 10 Mar. 2017. <http://www.nationalreview.com/article/445206/jordan-peeles-get-out-trite-get-whitey-movie&gt;.

Mixing Genres and Political Turmoil in The 39 Steps

Though Hollywood has dominated the global film industry since the 1910’s, many influential directors and films have surfaced outside of the United States. In the mid-1930’s, a studio system very similar to Hollywood (albeit smaller) formed in Great Britain. During this period of increased production and organization within the industry, Alfred Hitchcock emerged as one of the most popular and influential directors. Hitchcock established himself as a prominent director of silent films in the 1920’s, but he truly found his niche with the onset of the sound era. In terms of genre, Hitchcock became best known for directing thrillers. In a New York Times film review of The 39 Steps, columnist Andre Sennwald describes Hitchcock as “a master of shock and suspense, of cold horror and incongruous wit” (Sennwald). However, these same films often had moments of lighter tone, typically seen through romance and comedy. The 39 Steps is a perfect example of Hitchcock’s ability to mix genres. The story begins as a spy thriller, and though this plot continues throughout the film, it also evolves into a screwball comedy. The blending of these two genres has obvious entertainment value, but it also serves as a reflection of the political and social tension of Great Britain in the 1930’s. With the rise to power of the Nazi party in 1933, fears of political turmoil and war swept across Europe. In Britain, there was an increased “fear of traitors and spies [that] gained expression in drama, film and comics (Miller 317). This paranoia and social unrest was popularized in film, particularly in Hitchcock’s thrillers. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), The 39 Steps (1935), and The Lady Vanishes (1938) all played on the concept of foreign spies involved in international conspiracies. Hitchcock meshes the thriller and screwball comedy genres in “The 39 Steps” to feed into the paranoia about political turmoil in Europe, while also appealing to the desire for light, escapist entertainment.

The 39 Steps is a perfect example of a Hitchcock thriller. The thriller genre, at its most basic form, is stylistically characterized by the precise withholding and revealing of information to the audience, which creates a sense of tension and mystery. Toby Miller describes the thriller as a story of “accidental discovery” in which “mystery lands in the lap of a bright young man who proceeds to solve it and save his country from a conspiracy” (Miller 323). Miller also argues that as the thriller genre developed, it began to focus on “the identification and defeat of wrongdoers through participation and exploration, a practical reasoning that ultimately explained irregular, undesirable events” (Miller 321). The 39 Steps exemplifies this definition. In the film, Richard Hannay stumbles backwards into an international conspiracy that he must unravel to save himself, Great Britain, and possibly the world. The film begins at a rambunctious music hall in London, where a sudden gunshot causes a panic, forcing Hannay into the arms of a strange woman. He soon discovers that she is a spy and is responsible for the shooting. She tells Hannay that there are two spies trying to kill her, and that she must intercept a piece of information that is vital to British national security before it leaves the country. Hannay is skeptical, but when he discovers that the mysterious woman has been stabbed in the back, he sets off on a journey to retrieve the top-secret information and clear his name in the process. This type of thriller, in which a man is falsely accused of a crime and must prove his innocence, became a staple of Alfred Hitchcock’s film career.

In contrast to the thriller genre, the screwball comedy is traditionally defined as a love story between a man and a woman, with comedic situations that arise from this love, and a happy resolution. In Britain in the 1930’s, much of the appeal of this genre could be attributed to its escapist undertones. In most screwball comedies, realism is essentially absent, while comedy and romantic love are at the forefront of the plot. Though the formula for screwball comedies may seem realistic on the surface because it focuses on people in real-life situations, the scenarios for these films usually do not represent reality. This connection between apparent “reality” and fiction allows audiences to escape reality without necessarily being conscious of the film’s absurdly fictional premise. The 39 Steps presents itself as a screwball comedy in several ways, although most of the characteristics of the genre are non-existent until about halfway through the film. For example, Hannay and Pamela get handcuffed together and are forced to escape the assassins as a team. While this situation is theoretically possible, it is a rather absurd scenario, and yet it is vital for the comedic and romantic elements of the plot. Later, after escaping from the handcuffs, Pamela attempts to sneak away while Hannay sleeps. As she sneaks out of the bedroom, she overhears the assassins talking and discovers that Hannay is innocent of the murder and has been telling the truth the whole time. Soft, romantic music begins to play as she returns to their room and her expression and body language make it clear that she is now attracted to Hannay. This sudden change is very unrealistic considering her previous dislike for Hannay, but this change allows the tension and comedy to shift to romance, fulfilling the essential elements of a screwball comedy.

In this genre, the plot often revolves around a “battle of the sexes” set within the world of the upper class. Hannay seems to be a well-off, educated man with the financial means to travel, and Pamela serves as his counterpart in this “battle” between men and women. Pamela is introduced as a seemingly random passenger on the train that Hannay is taking to Scotland. Hannay bursts into her compartment to avoid the police and passionately kisses her so the investigators will pass him by. Though this is technically the beginning of their comical love affair, Pamela chooses to blow his cover and, for the moment, the plot continues without her. Their story really begins during his empowering speech at a political rally, where Pamela recognizes him as the criminal from the train. After his speech, the two spies capture Hannay as he pleads for Pamela to believe his story. Realizing that she knows too much, the spies bring her along under the pretense of being a witness against Hannay. At this point, Hannay and Pamela are forced to fight with one another because they are handcuffed together and have two very different outlooks on the situation. Hannay wants to clear his name and escape the assassins, while Pamela shows disinterest in Hannay’s fate and mostly just wants to be left alone. Though this is a comical “battle” between the two, there is also a literal and figurative connection between them. Miller states that “the focus on male-female relations happens again when Hannay and Pamela are handcuffed together…this unwelcome bracketing becomes a sign of their transformation into a couple, the ‘concrete object’ of the cuffs expressing a ‘concrete relation’” (Miller 326). Their close proximity forces Hannay and Pamela to have comical fights, despite their budding romance.

The 39 Steps uses these two genres, the thriller and the screwball comedy, to reflect two opposing approaches to the social and political turmoil in Europe. Even at the time of its release, critics note that “Hitchcock describes the remarkable chain of events in Hannay’s flight across England and Scotland with a blend of unexpected comedy and breathless terror that is strikingly effective” (Sennwald). Thw spy thriller aspect of the film brings the reality of European politics directly to the audience, albeit in a subtle, entertaining fashion, while the screwball comedy aspects of the film allow the audience to escape from the same negative sociopolitical atmosphere that is indirectly addressed in the plot of the film. This may seem counterintuitive, but Hitchcock seamlessly transitions between the two genres and makes both aspects of the film entertaining. Hannay himself helps represent the meshing of both genres in several ways. Miller describes Hannay as a “depthless character typical of spy-genre protagonists”, which is emphasized when Hannay himself declares that he is “’nobody’” (Miller 326). Miller also identifies the appearance of both genres by identifying Hannay’s ability to blend in when he “proceeds to be a milkman, a mechanic, a parade marcher, a politician and a criminal, the perfectly depthless figure who can be anyone…yet at the same time, this sets up the conditions of possibility for comedy, as a series of misunderstandings produce chaos, then a happy resolution” (Miller 327).

While the film does allude to the political tension in Europe, Hitchcock is careful not to be too specific with certain elements of the plot. If actual political parties or movements had been mentioned specifically (i.e. The Nazi Party, fascism, etc.), the film would have created a much more realistic tone and might have hit a little too close to home with British audiences. However, by only referring to international conspiracies and spy stories, Hitchcock references real-life politics without directly mentioning the turmoil in Europe. Miller states that The 39 Steps “embodied prevailing issues of its day to do with class race, gender and national security. It made especially powerful arguments for the value of the Dominions to Britain in a hostile world…it pointed to the danger of mass frenzy” (Miller 319). Hitchcock also comments on this concept of “mass frenzy” and distrust of the public through staging and location. Whenever a scene in the film is set within a controlled public area, it quickly devolves into chaos and violence. In the beginning scene at the music hall, a brawl begins for no apparent reason, followed by the gunshot and further panic. Later in the film, Hannay’s rousing speech at the political rally causes a great surge of people onto the stage. At the end of the film, Mr. Memory is shot during his performance, causing people to rush from the theater in a panic. Miller states that “the crowd was a figure of great anxiety in early twentieth-century public policy…for behind every public tumult of mass energy lies one more group of agitators ready to displace existing rulers with their own power-mongering” (Miller 324). The paranoia concerning international conspiracies led to a general distrust of the public and Hitchcock emphasizes this distrust with specific staging and location.

The 39 Steps is a very entertaining film, and it works very effectively as a thriller and a screwball comedy. Hitchcock plays on the fears of the British public with a story about international conspiracies, but also allows audiences to escape from reality with comedy and romance. The looming shadow of Nazi Germany created paranoia concerning the safety of British citizens, and this paranoia led to a distrust of the public. Regarding this paranoia, Miller quotes novelist Wesley K. Wark in stating that “the enemy could be the Jew, the foreigner, the not-quite gentleman, the corrupted, the bomb-throwers, the women. Why the day needed to be saved was very much a product of national insecurities” (Miller 320). In the film, the assassins serve as the enemy that causes these insecurities, while Hannay serves as the falsely accused. The love story, while not a necessary catalyst for the conspiracy plot, diverts attention away from the gravity of world politics. Hitchcock used a spy story and a comical love affair to seamlessly blend the thriller and screwball comedy genres in The 39 Steps.

Miller, Toby. “39 Steps to the ‘Borders of the Possible’: Alfred Hitchcock,   Amateur Observer and the New Cultural History.” Alfred Hitchcock: Centenary Essays.

Editor: Richard Allen. London: British Film Institute, 1999. 318-328. Sennwald, Andre. “The 39 Steps.” The New York Times Review. 1935. The New York Times. April 23, 2011. <http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review&gt;