[Editorial] Do You Feel Ashamed Of Your Depraved Viewing Habits?

I don’t know about you, but I have often found myself steeped in fear when asked the question ‘What films do you like?’ Although an outgoing and eccentric character by nature, one not afraid to give opinions and be irrevocably themselves, there have been (and continue to be) times in my life where I feel ashamed by my horror viewing habits. The shame doesn’t come from the types of horror I watch, even though my taste is exceptionally depraved, it comes from feeling like there is a monologue that has be recited along with it that provides scientific evidence as to why I feel most at comfort re-watching the devastating scenes in Ari Aster’s Midsommar or how my fascination with Srdjan Spasojevic’s A Serbian Film has led to me watching it over ten times. 

Today I was at Sundance Film Festival to see Prano Bailey-Bond’s Censor and Carlson Young’s The Blazing World, both of which deal with grief, loss and the tireless search to bring someone back who is long lost to the world. After watching both of these screenings (which we’ll have reviews of soon…) I found myself sitting with a coffee in hand opposite someone I have admired for a long time: Jed Shepherd, writer and producer of Host (2020). We stumbled upon the topic of how we react and how others react when we tell them about our extraordinary love of horror, and how this often leads to a barrage of questions regarding well being and the potential to damage. It felt like a fitting discussion after having just seen Censor which touches upon the video nasties era in the UK, where censorship was excruciatingly harsh in the belief that it would protect the viewer from being harmed or potentially harming others. 

We both had similar responses when discussing how we dealt with the topic; although we are die-hard horror fans that have no worry explaining to others about our love, it always comes with some form of caveat in which we desperately try to explain ourselves and the reasoning behind our love. It took me to a recent encounter at work, which in all honesty left me feeling completely ashamed about my viewing pleasures, something I had not felt for a long time. During drinks with colleagues, they began pointing out my tattoos (the only heavily tattooed person in a big office FYI…), and asked what the one on my forearm is. I responded that it was an artistic interpretation of my favourite horror movie; Nekromantik (1987) by Jorg Buttgereit. Immediately after a synopsis of the film was requested at which my defence mechanisms came into play, and I laughed it off suggesting that the film was not going to be of much interest to them. Naturally, they went on to Google said film and suddenly it seemed that the entire group sobered up when they read the word ‘necrophilia’. 

Which is where things got tricky… It was at this point in the discussion that I immediately wanted to start explaining how the film was actually incredibly beautiful, powerful and quite melancholic in its portrayal and symbolism of love. I also quickly pointed out that although jarring and experimental, the musical score throughout is a harmony like no other. But how does a person that does not even like a horror film classic like A Nightmare on Elm Street begin to fathom the merits of a film like Nekromantik? And I completely got it, but I started to feel ashamed and embarrassed by the fact that I had even mentioned it, let alone have it permanently marked on my body forever. 

There was no animosity and everyone in that group has said they find it unique and interesting, but it has also become a little bit of a joke - always referring to me as the one in the group who loves necrophilia. It is a strange feeling as a fully grown woman to be embarrassed by something that brings so much pleasure and joy (not the necrophilia…) within my everyday life. As an extreme horror film fan, and I’m certain for general horror film fans, it feels like we are often so quick to defend the films that we love and defend this genre that still seems to have a stigma attached to it by those who don’t like horror movies. 

Sometimes I have wondered if it was just me that felt this way, but after speaking to Jed today I realised that actually that isn’t the case, and even someone like Jed who has his own horror film under his belt - the embarrassment can still shine through in particular crowds. Which has left me wondering if this has ever happened to you? Do you pick and choose the people in which you are allowed to know your love of horror? If yes, what are your reasons?

Some of my friends are into things which are probably far more embarrassing; crystals, knitting hats for random objects, colour coordinating their cleaning clothes and so on, but they are loud and proud of it. They never once feel ashamed that they have an obsession with Zoflora, so why am I often ashamed that I like watching people get their heads chopped off on-screen? Is it not art after all?

The take away could be that I need to be a little more open and honest with my love of disturbing, but at the same time, perhaps it's also quite nice to have a depraved and dirty little secret. 

Let me know your thoughts on Twitter or our Member Facebook Group!

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