I’m weird with horror movies. Have been my entire life.
Even as a little kid, the fact that the movie was a movie was enough that they didn’t scare me. It was just fun, and maybe (in some cases) exciting the same way action movies can be. Even jump scares didn’t hit as hard as they do other people I’ve watched a lot of horror with, and they rarely work nowadays because they’re easy to predict.
However, that doesn’t mean my subconscious was entirely immune to things. Damn near it, but not entirely.
Two horror movies gave me dreams, but only one ever gave me nightmares, as in scary dreams.
The Exorcist had me having some really intense dreams. They weren’t scary, they were more like action movies inside my head, but it was still the kind of thing that would break me out of sleep, sweaty and breathing hard.
But the one that gave me actual nightmares? Manitou
The movie itself wasn’t super great, in terms of quality, though it was better than average. But it’s no Exorcist, you dig? It won’t win big awards or end up on top ten lists, but it’s watchable even today.
But holy fuck did the premise fuck with my little head. I wanna say I was six or seven when we watched it. And, before anyone gets frisky, I was one of those kids that loved horror movies, and had zero issues with them. My parents were pretty careful early on, but the way I just ate up classic horror like the Universal and Hammer stuff when it would be on and I’d catch it, quickly made them realize they didn’t have to worry.
But for three nights after that movie, I’d have nightmares about things growing out of me. It wasn’t even things from the movie itself, it was the idea of my body being taken over like that.
You’d think that would mean body horror would be a favourite subgenre, or maybe something that would still get to me, but those few nightmares were it. I like body horror, but it doesn’t get past my awareness of it being a movie.
But yeah, boy, The Manitou sticks out because of that. I don’t rewatch it often because I don’t want the memory of those nightmares watered down. They were terrifying, and at the time it was unpleasant, but as time passed and I came to enjoy horror films as an art form, the fact that that one movie sank into me like that is a cherished memory. Something broke through that awareness, the disbelief I couldn’t entirely suspend, and I’ve never had that experience again. So I I don’t want the power of that memory weakened if I can avoid it
I’m weird with horror movies. Have been my entire life.
Even as a little kid, the fact that the movie was a movie was enough that they didn’t scare me. It was just fun, and maybe (in some cases) exciting the same way action movies can be. Even jump scares didn’t hit as hard as they do other people I’ve watched a lot of horror with, and they rarely work nowadays because they’re easy to predict.
However, that doesn’t mean my subconscious was entirely immune to things. Damn near it, but not entirely.
Two horror movies gave me dreams, but only one ever gave me nightmares, as in scary dreams.
The Exorcist had me having some really intense dreams. They weren’t scary, they were more like action movies inside my head, but it was still the kind of thing that would break me out of sleep, sweaty and breathing hard.
But the one that gave me actual nightmares? Manitou
The movie itself wasn’t super great, in terms of quality, though it was better than average. But it’s no Exorcist, you dig? It won’t win big awards or end up on top ten lists, but it’s watchable even today.
But holy fuck did the premise fuck with my little head. I wanna say I was six or seven when we watched it. And, before anyone gets frisky, I was one of those kids that loved horror movies, and had zero issues with them. My parents were pretty careful early on, but the way I just ate up classic horror like the Universal and Hammer stuff when it would be on and I’d catch it, quickly made them realize they didn’t have to worry.
But for three nights after that movie, I’d have nightmares about things growing out of me. It wasn’t even things from the movie itself, it was the idea of my body being taken over like that.
You’d think that would mean body horror would be a favourite subgenre, or maybe something that would still get to me, but those few nightmares were it. I like body horror, but it doesn’t get past my awareness of it being a movie.
But yeah, boy, The Manitou sticks out because of that. I don’t rewatch it often because I don’t want the memory of those nightmares watered down. They were terrifying, and at the time it was unpleasant, but as time passed and I came to enjoy horror films as an art form, the fact that that one movie sank into me like that is a cherished memory. Something broke through that awareness, the disbelief I couldn’t entirely suspend, and I’ve never had that experience again. So I I don’t want the power of that memory weakened if I can avoid it