HELIOLITH

I hate horror movies with a passion. I don’t understand their allure, if you do, I can (almost) respect that. Disgusting movies like Seven, that leave me with thoughts of pathological killers with no remorse and no sensitivity are scary, yes, but worse they’re toxic to our mental health. It’s not cathartic. It ends depressingly, and it’s not historically relevant. A horrific documentary or even dramatization of the Holocaust or a real criminal’s actions at least serves the purpose of education, and the enlightenment that comes with not repeating our errors. If the idiots that are now joining up KKK chapters around the U.S. had learned the truth about genocide as children, perhaps they wouldn’t be so stupid as to ‘choose’ white supremacy today.

But indulgent movies of fictional horror and violence with no real message terrorize and infect us. Anthony Hopkins gained no respect from me as an actor after I saw Silence of the Lambs. If I were an actor by trade, I would accept many roles, but not that one; it serves no purpose, and contributes nothing to society. It’s interesting that on Hopkins’ Wikipedia Page it notes that, “Director Jonathan Demme offered Hopkins the role of Lecter in 1989 after it had been turned down by Robert Duvall, Robert De Niro, and Gene Hackman.” Also of note was Hopkins assurance, “…that Red Dragon would feature his last performance as the character, and that he would not reprise even a narrative role in the latest addition to the series, Hannibal Rising.” Could it be that he suffered enough as that character? He no longer can stomach foisting this crap upon the world? Hopkins does philanthropic things. How nice if he would just come out and condemn the whole series.

I was glad to read Dana Steven’s scathing review of the 3rd installment/ prequel to the cult of Hannibal today on slate.com. Here’s a bit from her first paragraph:

No, what this nasty, brutish (but unfortunately not short) movie left me feeling was ashamed to be American. First of all: As a folk archetype, a supervillain for our times, this is the best we can come up with? A vaguely Eurotrash schoolboy who eats people’s cheeks? And secondly, where do we get off using the trauma of the Second World War as an excuse for Hannibal’s (that is, our) insatiable appetite for murder? If pop-culture fantasies really do serve as a psychological X-ray of our collective fears and desires, this is one sorry-ass session on the couch.

Not that critics’ reviews mean that much, but I was glad to see that it had an average of 1.8/5 stars on google’s movies page. What’s the point of this genre anyway, even if the movie didn’t suck so horribly as she points out, what do you get out of it, if you enjoy this kind of thing? Is it making the human race better? Or is it obsession with darkness and self-destruction? Honestly, I’m really not sure where to direct my rage. Wikipedia has an interesting page on the Aestheticization of Violence that discusses conflicting opinions on these questions, but I can’t find myself agreeing with either camp (the first that says this violence increases social agressivity, or the second that says it is cathartic). I suppose I suspect if anything, it may well increase aggressivity, but I wouldn’t argue that with great conviction, I think it’s more of an artistic crime against humanity. Is it not ultimately the screenwriter’s (Thomas Harris) fault this series exists in the first place? What was his point? I really don’t get it. I really can understand the beauty of anti-social, but I cannot by any stretch undertand our idolatry of this gross character.