Let’s Conjure Up Some Jump Scares!

As someone who loves horror films, they still find ways of haunting me. Even now, I occasionally wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare that feels as real and chilling as Halloween night. In my eyes, these cyclical terrors reveal how expertly crafted the creatures and jump scares of fictional films are. Anytime a jump scare occurs, especially in the Conjuring films, which are personal favorite frights of mine, I have to turn my attention to a random corner of the screen or not look at all. That’s how much they get under my skin. 

With its final film premiering this past September, The Conjuring film series has made its impact as a horror film staple for many horror buffs. The films are fictional retellings of notable, real life cases of paranormal investigators, Ed and Lorraine Warren. Whether or not you believe the events of these chilling ghost hunts are factual or fanciful, the films are a perfect example of what horror films should be: fun and entertaining to watch. Furthermore, the franchise contains jump scares that have lingered in the dark recesses of my mind for years, and they remain insidious reminders of the art of a great scare.  

Prior to the franchise’s final film release, I have been rewatching the previous installments in anticipation of the new horrors that inevitably await me. However, of the four previous films, I cannot seem to get past The Conjuring 2 because of one specific performance that always manages to send shivers up my spine. The character of the “Crooked Man” is a standout ghoul of the second film, invading the household through a toy zoetrope (a spinning lantern) and his eponymous children’s song. I am so terrified of this menace that I have to hide my face behind my hands throughout the sequence – I still don’t entirely know what happens!  What I do understand is that the talented actor who plays the “Crooked Man,” Javier Botet, is able to move his body in such a foreboding way that it makes the character unnerving and desperately uncomfortable to watch. Acting directly against Patrick Wilson (who plays one of the series’ protagonists, Ed Warren), Botet moves like a horrific animatronic, sending the audience spinning like the zoetrope he leaps out of in the dark. 

Speaking of the dark, watching any horror film in the middle of the day seems like the best option for me despite the fact that any little noise after the credits roll will make me question everything that’s going on in my own home. And that is an extremely effective way to prove that these jump scares and other techniques awaken my fight-or-flight mode and rattle me when I’m home alone. A prime example of this manifests whenever my family and I make the mistake of watching a scary film at night. It is my job to take our beloved dog outside for the evening, so, every night without fail, I always glance into the dark garage just to double-check that nothing is lurking in the dark despite the tiny security light remaining on continuously. I still don’t understand why I do this; it has just become a habit at this point, probably as a result of the malignant shadows that my loved ones and I so enjoy watching on screen. Consequently, I have learned that family ties are often tethered to fear as well.

A while back, I decided to watch Hereditary, a petrifying film about how some family secrets continue plaguing future generations in truly horrific ways. I viewed it in the middle of the day, being home alone, and the sunshine brought me little comfort. The physical act of Toni Collete, who plays one of the film’s main characters, climbing the ceiling in her family’s home, her head banging continuously against the wall as her terrified son screams, “Mommy, I’m sorry,” will always haunt me because of her character’s unnerving silence and erratic, inhuman movements. The sight and sounds (or lack thereof) of that particular scene never fail to make my blood run cold. And other films continue to use visual and auditory storytelling to incite dread in their audiences masterfully.

I can’t even watch The Exorcist anymore because of Linda Blair’s incredibly nuanced performance as a child actress portraying a girl who is possessed. The words and actions that leave her mouth shook me to my core when I first watched the film. I was shocked beyond belief that not only was this level of brutalistic horror achieved in the early 1970s, but that my seemingly fearless mom and uncle had a hard time watching it as teenagers. While The Exorcist has produced some incredibly famous imagery, the mental image of Regan (the young girl possessed by a demon that Blair plays) profusely cursing and spitting at the priest and her family trying to save her/exorcise the demon is something I’ll never get over. The very sight of Regan’s appearance changing as she swiftly loses her humanity and the gruff sounds of the young girl’s voice as the demon possessing her fights for control are expertly done, and the film has rightfully achieved its goal of being one of the scariest films of all time. 

More recently, horror continues to expand and include the terrors of the everyday. In Longlegs, a film about an FBI agent investigating the grisly murders of a supposed occultist serial killer, there is an emphasis on how the smallest acts can infuse horror that make one’s heart ache. Nicolas Cage plays the titular villain of the horror crime film and is an incredibly eerie character. His performance perfectly encompasses dread and an inhuman rage as he wails, “Mommy, Daddy, unmake me!” in his own car after being thrown out of a hardware store. Such a small act, as being asked to leave a store, sets Cage’s character into a spiral that utterly terrifies me and showcases how quickly someone can devolve to disastrous degrees. Understanding the additional context of the film, Longlegs’ personal yell is horrifying. Cage’s line delivery played on repeat in my mind for a few days afterwards, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and heard. 

Horror films are such a delight to experience, whether at home or in the theater, because they often expose us to things, concepts, and characters we would not dare to dream up. And, if the jump scares give me goosebumps, then I know I’ll be in for a wild ride! Additionally, horror films are a great way for my family to connect with one another. Half of my family (including myself from time to time) will binge true crime podcasts, documentaries, and macabre tv shows across all of the streaming platforms, fueling our never-ending love of the genre. My family loves good scares, whether we get them from horror films or one of the countless documentaries we have watched with bated breath and many gasps. Effective jump scares and thrills from horror films make my skin crawl, get my heart pumping, and provide terrors that I believe most individuals can’t truly fathom in the modern world. Finally, the creativity sparked by horror films continues to stand alone as an irreplaceable form of gruesome (and sometimes gratifying) entertainment.