Images & Iconoclasm

So, today's earlier post got me thinking about the images fantastic cinema burns into the collective unconsciousness' brain and how, ergo, horror plays an important role in regulating the psyche. It's an issue many a film scholar, social critic, cultural anthropologist has written about (my favorites are Freud's essay on The Uncanny and Noel Carroll's The Philosophy of Horror), so I will blessedly leave the issue where it stands, merely stating that something with as much endurance as the horror genre must have some sort of social and psychological significance, despite what conservatives might say to the contrary.

So I decided to compile a list of horror images that have been burned irrevocably into my mind, for better or for worse, as well as urge others to submit their lists.

• Walt Disney's The Skeleton Dance: A Very Interesting look at the danse macabre theme from a child's standpoint. As a child, I remember such things being deliciously frightening but just as deliciously enticing - the exact feelings terror narratives seek to bring forth. It wasn't until I was older (having had the urge for "scary stuff" as my mother put it, taken permanently out of my mind by The Man), that I was able to distance myself from the grown-up barriers adults build in their brains, so that I could enjoy horror for simply being what it is.
  
• Tim Burton's early work, especially Vincent: My first example of a man (and by extension, Vincent) who not only liked horror, but had incorporated it into his worldview.
  
• The Universal Monsters: What I credit as the first springboard into film appreciation. I remember checking out a monster fan book (the kind you saw a lot of in the 80's, along the lines of Monster Squad) almost weekly during a difficult adjustment to moving in grade school. I can now see that obsession with the otherwordly as a little girl's desperate attempt to gain some control over the only thing she could: her reading material. I really owe Bela, Boris, Lon, Colin, Elsa and the gang a hearty thanks.
• Bruce Coville's book, Monster of the Year: Same concept, only Coville's obvious love of the genre and excellent YA writing made the monsters lovable, kind, and most of all, human (kind of). From then on I always remembered the everyone - people and monster alike - had a backstory that contributes to their monstrousness.
• Sugar Hill & Her Zombie Hitmen: A more recent favorite, I saw this 1974 film while doing research for a paper on women in zombie film for the 2007 National Conference for Undergraduate Research. Commonly termed a "cheesy blaxpolitation" film, I didn't have high expectations. Not only was I proven wrong, but delighted by the powerful feminism. It was unforgettable, especially the tagline, "Sugar is sweet, but Revenge is Sweeter!" Classic!