I grew up watching horror films. My mother was a product of the seventies and eighties and the decades’ skyrocketing stardom of Stephen King. She read all of his books and I would occasionally pick one up, too, to see what all the fuss was about. (Reading “Pet Semetary” in my tweens was an experience unto itself.) My father, on the other hand, got a kick out of watching/not-watching horror films like Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street.
“Watching/no-watching” you ask?
Well, the television on the bottom level of our house in Georgia was conveniently place at the other end of the room of a large window. When watching TV at night, the darkness from the outside converted the window into a somewhat distorted mirror. You could see what was happening in the reflection – but not completely. (Think about watching scrambled cable channels back in the day and occasionally seeing a nipple; that was sort of the experience.)
ANYWAY – when we would watch horror films, my father and I would both turn and watch the parts when teenagers get hacked/slashed up in the reflection of the window because we couldn’t watch it straight on. My mother had no issue watching these scenes (again: years of Stephen King) – but Dad and I were chumps. As I got older and special effects evolved, I began to see how much of those moments were our imaginations vs. how “realistic” it all looked.
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I haven’t seen a bona fide horror film in YEARS. When I started dating my now wife, it was made clear that she didn’t watch horror films. At all.
She’s the sort to get nightmares from scary movies.
INSTEAD – she loves really dumb movies. Now, don’t get me wrong: I like dumb movies, too. Those stupid comedies where you can turn your brain off because (in most cases) someone somewhere turned off his/her brain to write said comedy.
If my wife had been born fifteen years earlier, she would have grown up a HUGE follower of Cheech and Chong. Not for the drug culture, but for their films. Instead, my wife has Adam Sandler and Seth Rogen.
That’s right, folks: intellectual humor at its finest.
I like watching these movies not for the sake of watching them, but to watch my wife watch them. Like I said: she LOVES these kind of films. In the theater for The Night Before (the better of the two flicks) she could barely breathe leaning on the seat in front of her laughing so hard. I have legitimate worries that when we reach a very advanced age, she will have to wear adult underwear lest she (quite literally) piss herself watching these movies.
I love watching my wife watch movies she loves.