Quiet versus Gore

This is just a place for me to go off on a tangent, and clear some space in my head. Everything is my opinion. Feel free to stop by and wave torches.


Now I am a long time fan of quiet horror. Not that I have anything against gore. Personally, I think Richard Laymon is a genius. Gore can be well written, but it can also be an exercise in overkill. Everything falls by the wayside; atmosphere, character development, plot, just to set up the next abomination. Don't get me wrong, quiet horror can fall victim to itself, too. It becomes too quiet, basically grinding to a halt under the weight of it's own buildup. Personally, though, when it's a choice of one or the other, I go with quiet horror. It lingers. Gore is the horror of the moment. The jump scare. Quiet horror builds in your subconscious, making monsters of the shadows, letting your imagination work you into a frenzy. Bottom line, gore gives you a monster. Quiet lets you supply it. Here's an example that might help illustrate what I'm trying to say. You're home alone. In the house you've lived in "X" number of years. You know every sound your house makes. Except that one. Your subconscious is coming up with nasty scenarios involving deranged biker zombies wielding farm implements breaking in, while your logical mind is scrambling for a sensible explanation. Your furnace burped. The cat fell off the mantle. Anything. And that's it right there. Quiet horror, when it works, makes you work. It's the sound that makes the monster in your closet. The sound you'll be hearing again, next time you are alone. The shadow that doesn't look right. The rustling in the hedges that seems too big to be a cat. It's the Unknown that lies within you. The "father" of all your fear. For me, quiet horror is the fuel for the fires of my imagination. And my imagination could take Jason Voorhees apart like a cheap piñata without breaking a sweat. Thanks for letting me ramble.