The philosopher Epicurus came up with two forms of pleasure: kinetic and katastematic. The former were the typical forms we think of: sex, food, drugs etc. However, katastematic pleasure is a more nuanced, intriguing form, it is defined by a lack of worrying. This general ease of life, not caring or worrying about the future or one's own life was what Epicurus believed we all must strive for in life. Epicurus even warned about the dangers of the kinetic form, believing that although it gave great pleasure, often times the pleasure gained was not worth the potential anxiety it could cause, and thus was not worth pursuing. It is from this perspective that I think horror films are almost Epicurean in nature. They punish those who utilize kinetic pleasures, with the antagonist often using those inhibitions to kill the victims. Further, they represent a direct attack to katastematic pleasure, causing the victims great anxiety and lingering fear. I think the most effective horror films are those that create a mood of dread for the viewer that is shared with the victim on screen, that attack the viewer's own Katastematic pleasure. The Shower Scene from “Psycho” is so famous because for a few terrible seconds the audience knows exactly what is about to happen, and it floods them with this anxiety. However, it goes beyond that. The viewer mentally associates taking a shower with the horrible dread felt during that scene. Good horror films use the camera to cause anxiety and fear from the associations with otherwise mundane actions.
Unfortunately, most horror relies on cheap jump scares that last about five seconds and then never worry the viewer again. The relatively low value of the average horror film is cliche at this point. However, every once in awhile something comes and knocks out the critics. In the last decade only two films have done so. The first was 2005’s “The Descent,” which ranked as high as sixth on the highly prestigious (and arguably snobbish) Sights and Sounds annual film poll. It took a full nine years for the magazine to recognize another film as deserving of the top 20, 2014’s “It Follows” (tied for 11th). As a devoted follower of the poll, I was surprised; if the international group of directors and critics bother to include a horror film on the annual list, it is a safe bet the film will be good. Intrigued, I googled “It Follows” and read the premise: “After carefree teenager Jay (Maika Monroe) sleeps with her new boyfriend, Hugh (Jake Weary), for the first time, she learns that she is the latest recipient of a fatal curse that is passed from victim to victim via sexual intercourse. Death, Jay learns, will creep inexorably toward her as either a friend or a stranger.” Further interested, I eventually watched the film with a friend of mine, five days ago now. I am still haunted. I haven’t even had sex, and the film scared me so fully I was paranoid for a few days. It was only today that I finally gained the emotional fortitude to evaluate the film at a more judicious level.
What made the film so scary was a combination of three things. First, the directing was fantastic. As mentioned above, the creature only can walk slowly towards Jay, and that is abused and mined most directly by the camera. The film likes to employ close-ups of Jay for relatability. The audience readily sees her face over and over, a well known subconscious way to bond with a character. This is juxtaposed with the creature, which is often shown in long shots. The film is acutely aware that the entity presence is terrifying enough, and by using long shots, “It Follows” allows the anticipation to grow as it slowly approaches. However, this is almost conditioning the viewer, and Mitchell will throw in close-ups of the monster to startle the viewer. When it appears in close-up, it feels more immediately threatening, a different but still powerful reaction. In one virtuoso scene, as the creature approaches, the camera begins a slow pan in a 360 degree turn showing an inattentive Jay. When it finally focuses on the monster again, it is a notably closer. The spin begins again, the tension rises further… but nothing happens.
That scene also perfectly illustrates the second reason “It Follows” is so terrifying: an adroit use of red herrings. It is constantly unclear in public areas whether the person walking is another person or the creature. Sometimes it appears as a friend, but then clearly is not at the last minute. Sometimes it is clear the monster is approaching, but nothing comes of it. These interactions are mixed throughout the film. It is impossible for the viewer to ever confidently discern what is actually approaching. This is constantly done through the background of the mise-en-scene. The uncertainty contributes to the film’s oppressive atmosphere and uncertainty that quickly turns to fear. The viewer ends up spending swathes of the film scanning the background, assessing every person to decide whether they represent a threat or not.
The final reason is why I spent 268 words discussing Epicurean philosophy and the Shower Scene. The other two are signs of a strong director, however, this one reflects someone who understands how people think. One crucial detail to the premise I used left out is that if person one with the curse passes it on to person two and the creature kills person two, they start hunting person one again. If the creature kills person one then it hunts whoever gave it to them and so on. Consider the implications. If you ever receive the curse you are, at any moment, in danger of the creature of killing you. There is never true tranquility, because it is impossible to know when the creature kills whoever you passed it to. At any moment, the creature could begin hunting you again, and you’ll only be caught unaware the longer it is before it hunts you again. There is never a chance, for the rest of the person’s life they are in danger of being killed. The incessant anxiety, paranoia and fear that would cause someone is the true terror of the film. It is a perpetual ruination of katastematic pleasure. The person has to be on edge and aware 24/7. Even sleep becomes dangerous. The film infuses the most banal elements of life with a lethal, inexorable danger. That would be exhausting and the most miserable form of existence possible: never a moment of peace, and just from having sex.
The third reason is also why I feel those who interpret the film as an analogy for STIs are wrong. The monster is an existential attack and a form of psychological torture, not a sanctimonious criticism of sex. It is instead a metaphor for death, and that is best displayed by why the monster is so terrifying. The monster fills the victim with uncertainty; like death, they know it's coming, it is just a matter of when. There is no uncertainty with STIs, you either have one or you don’t. The character’s response to the monster is equally telling. They are dismissive of it as first, as most young people are, they don’t consider it a possibility. They continue to live carefree lives, to drink and waste their time. However, when they finally confront the possibility of the monster as real, they stop wasting their time and work together to try to overcome this threat. They mature enormously over the course of the film, as best emblematizes by the character’s discussing walking out of "8 Mile," which their parents forbid when they were kids. This is the symbolic entrance into adulthood, and comes with their acknowledgment of the creature, their acknowledgment of their inevitable deaths.
However, despite all of that praise the film has many flaws. The beginning is numbingly cliche. It is a perplexing choice in its sexually exploitative nature and a clearly inferior beginning the film’s otherwise brilliant execution. It is honestly perplexing, and feels like a lazy way to show the audience the consequences of the creature catching someone, which wasn’t needed. It isn’t the death itself that is scary, it’s the constant threat of it that is. There are also some continuity errors with the monster—sometimes it seems to take eons to make menial progress, and other times seems quite fast in covering distance. The film, while quite scary, doesn’t have a lot of emotional heft, but it doesn’t seem aware of that. Instead, the film constantly throws in things, such as the creature replicating Jay’s father, that don’t have any emotional weight. It is an empty gesture. The monster is also incredibly kind to Jay. While it is portrayed as an intelligent entity at some level, it initially appears as conspicuous people to her, such as an old lady in a hospital gown at a college, to let Jay escape several times. If it is an intelligent entity, it could easily have appeared as a college student and Jay would have been dead. What makes this more frustrating is the creature is far more clever when pursuing other people, but Jay gets special treatment. Hopefully in the future, Mitchell can find another premise this superb, tighten the script, remove lazy elements such as the two killings depicted and random jump scares such as the wall collapsing and the ball thrown at the window, they don't add anything. Mitchell is clearly a fan of horror films, the premise is reminiscent of "The Thing," the music is heavily inspired by "Halloween" and there are many references to previous horror films, particularly from John Carpenter. Once Mitchell disciplines himself, and grows out of John Carpenter's shadow, there is a masterpiece awaiting.
