This is the first post in hopefully a series of posts I plan to write on Horror Theory. Like Literary Theory where we examine how Literature works and what makes it effective, I want to take a closer look at some of the aspects of the Horror Genre and examine what Horror is and how it works.

What is the Pyramid Theory?

The Pyramid Theory is something I’ve been trying to articulate for a long time, and I think I’ve finally found the terms to express my thoughts on what makes for well-written, balanced horror story.

This is purely my opinion of the way in which certain elements should be combined to make a balanced, well-written horror film/novel. There are many fans that will disagree with this theory. That is perfectly okay. We don’t all need to agree.

These elements are Suspense, Fear, Violence, Gore, and Disgust.

Suspense.

Suspense is the bedrock of any good scary story. Before we get to the fear and the scares, we start with a building, escalating tension. Suspense is that feeling of anxiety or nervousness that has us wondering what’s going on, what’s going to happen next, or when we know something is off or not right but don’t know what it is yet. Horror utilizes suspense from the very beginning till the very end.

A freak sandstorm blows the desert sands high into the sky, revealing the tip of an ancient pyramid that has been buried for thousands of years…until now. After a string of freak accidents and deaths that have taken place during the excavation of this previously undiscovered pyramid, a young archeologist has been called in by the Egyptian government to take on the project that no one else wants…

Fear.

Once there is a solid foundation of suspense, it can start to build to fear. Fear is what is going to scare us in this tense atmosphere. Fear is that anticipation of something horrible. If watching a character walking down a dark hallway is the suspense, then fear is the dark figure we see outlined in the shadows at the end of the hall that begins to slowly walk closer, and closer. Fear is seeing the figure, watching it walk down the hallway, seeing it up close in the light, and imagining what it’s going to do to us.

The young archeologist is in the tomb of the king alone. There was a cave in at the main entrance to the tomb, and now everyone but the archeologist is away looking for another tunnel that will lead to the way out of the only partially excavated pyramid tomb. The young man dusts off relics and looks at hieroglyphs on the wall. He takes a crowbar and uses it to pry open the lid of a sarcophagus. He looks at the sarcophagus in confusion. It’s empty. From outside the room, far away in a darkened hallway, he hears a shuffling sound, then a scraping noise. “Hello?” the young man calls out. He hears a soft moan in reply. More shuffling. Someone or something is getting closer.

Violence.

After experiencing suspense and fear, we are now prepped and ready for violence. Violence can range from someone shoving a monster in self-defensive to a brutal murder. Once we are afraid, we are ready to see a character defend themselves with violence or to see violence enacted upon them. If we have seen a weapon, we are ready to see it wielded. If there’s a gun, it’s time for it to be pointed at someone and possibly go off. Just like fear, there is something about the human mind that craves violence and finds it entertaining. Even though fear is generally thought of as a negative emotion, we watch movies and read books that make us feel it. And even though we may identify with a character, or a killer, or a monster and not want to see them hurt, some part of us actually does. The threat of violence raises our levels of fear as well. Once a human is afraid the flight or fight response kicks in. I believe that when reading or watching horror, there is some part of that instinct that lights up in our minds, and because we know we are in no actual harm, we crave the “fight” impulse instead, and we want to see the blood on the page or the screen. Violence also requires two beings. Perpetrator and victim, in whatever form that takes, are necessary for violence.

The young archeologist watches in horror as a figure enters the burial chamber, barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight. As the figure draws close, the archeologist can see that it is the reanimated corpse of the Pharoh and that he drags a large ancient spear with fresh blood on it. The young man looks around for anything that can be used as a weapon to defend himself against the creature. He picks up a small chisel. The Pharoh smiles with gray dead lips as he drives his spear deep into the chest of the Archeologist, again and again.

Gore.

Gore is similar to violence but distinct in its intensity and duration. I would say Gore is the act of reveling in the violence. It’s not just Jason slitting a teenagers throat, it’s the camera closeup on the blood spurting out of her neck that lasts until the last gush of blood stops gushing. Gore is the spotlighting of the violence, it is the extreme end of the violent act. Gore can also occur when there is only one entity or character. Violence requires a perpetrator and a victim, whereas Gore can be enacted upon a single entity. Think of any kind of body horror scene, for example, the leg shaving scene in Cabin fever. Gore is the extreme reveling in violence that can happen between perpetrator and victim, or to victim alone.

The Archeologist lays bleeding at the feet of the ancient king. He’s not quite dead yet and foolishly tries to crawl away from his attacker. The Mummy produces an ancient curved knife with a very large blade. With his knife he begins to skin the Archeologist alive, being careful and precise with his cuts. The man shrieks in abject agony as each slice of skin is painstakingly removed. Growing tired of his noise, the Pharoah cuts out the mans tongue with a sawing motion. Then he plucks out his eyes and eats them for good measure, and goes back to work on the skin.

Disgust.

Disgust comes at the very extreme end of the gore spectrum. This is when gore moves so far past our desire for violence and becomes Disgust. It is what grosses us out. It’s extreme, detailed brutal violence, the mess of it, the stink of it. It’s pus, and guts, and gelatinous masses of red horrible grossness. It is also what repulses us physically, mentally, emotionally, and morally. For example, pedophilia, rape, animal abuse, or child abuse. These are all things that repulse us, that disgust us morally.

Having taken the strips of the Archeologists skin, and stitched them up nicely to create a kind of suit, the Pharoah leaves the tomb now looking a little more like a human man and less like an undead monster. There is a little blood oozing from the stitches, but he knows it will heal with time. He finds a secret exit and leaves the darkness of the pyramid and finds himself approaching the white tents of the dig’s campsite. In one tent, he finds the young wife of the archeologist. After a few moments, the woman realizes that this is not her husband and tries to flee. The reanimated corpse wearing her husband’s skin holds her down against her will and assaults her. Then all of a sudden, one of the excavators from the tomb, slightly bloodied, but more or less okay, runs into the tent, takes up the monster’s spear and skewers him to death, claiming revenge for all his friends that the monster murdered. 

Moving Through the Pyramid.

I believe that moving through the pyramid in this order is what creates a solid, frightening horror story. I also believe that Gore and Disgust are not necessary to have an effective and frightening horror story. One could argue that even violence isn’t necessary, but we do enjoy it. Like a food pyramid, things at the top of the pyramid, if they are going to be used at all, should be used sparingly. Obviously, writers and filmmakers can choose not to set a foundation of suspense and fear. If you so wanted you could start your film or your book straight at violence, move into gore and peak into disgust until the end. Or you could start at Gore and see where it takes you. Or you could start in suspense and move straight into disgust and stay there. And what happens then?

Choosing Not To Balance.

Without a foundation of suspense and fear, the craving for violence is never created in the viewer. If I’m watching characters do something mundane like talking about something uninteresting while walking through the woods, and there’s nothing suspenseful or off about it, I’m not afraid.  And if all of a sudden, someone’s leg gets graphically cut off in a bear trap, we’ve moved straight into Gore. And while some people would enjoy the Gore for Gore’s sake as some people do, this would only be Gory, it would not be scary or frightening. And if we lingered on that bear trap for long enough, watching every sinew and piece of leg muscle tear, then we’re in Disgust. But we’re still not afraid, we’re just grossed out.

I personally find films that are just Gory, that haven’t peaked my interest with suspense and made my mind race with fear, to be just kind of gross for grossness sake. Which brings us to Disgust. I know there are movies that forsake suspense, fear, and violence, and only focus on disgust in an attempt to gross the audience out. Any emotional reaction is a good reaction? Not so.

I don’t believe that a film or book that relies only on Disgust is truly horror. For example, A Serbian Film, to me, is not a horror film. There is nothing scary or frightening about that movie, and that’s not it’s point, it’s point is to only disgust you. It starts at the top of the pyramid and just stays there stagnating.

An outlier that doesn’t truly fit my Pyramid Theory is the rape-revenge genre. This genre flips the pyramid upside down and starts with disgust which creates the craving for violence and then moves into the other elements. I personally don’t enjoy this genre or watching anything that includes rape, but I still classify it as horror. The rape-revenge genre breakdown is its own post, but even that genre, while starting with disgust, uses that disgust to create the craving for violence, and the craving for violence is a fundamental aspect of horror. The Disgust-only films generally don’t create that craving.

In Conclusion.

It is my opinion that gore and disgust should be used sparingly, or not at all in horror film and literature. Many people love gore and love films and books that are only meant to disgust and gross you out. I believe that perhaps some people can’t distinguish between disgust and fear or don’t care to. And that’s fine, but to me, a well-rounded, high-quality horror movie or novel uses the elements of suspense, fear, violence, gore, and disgust, each in appropriate measure to create stories that are horrifying and entertaining.