NOTE: This is just 5 media magazines that were from the online site, I couldn't find more than this. I've also previously looked at the media magazine print copy which brings my total quotes from media magazines to around about 9 instead of just these 5 alone
You think you know the story ... icons of horror in The Cabin in the Woods
MediaMagazine 41 September 2012 Images and Icons, Horror
MediaMagazine 41 September 2012 Images and Icons, Horror
The horror audience’s ‘need’ for sacrifice
The Cabin In The Woods very cleverly explores ideas about the audiences for genres such as horror. The narrative sets up the idea that an ancient power dwells in the bowels of the Earth, that can only be appeased by an offering of pain and blood. A U.S. corporation must successfully complete the sacrifice, which must conclude with the death of a virgin after the brutal killing/sacrifice of four other people by supernatural forces. As long as this ritual is maintained, the ancient power maintains its slumber, thus allowing humanity to continue. In the film, this sacrifice, using the icons of horror, is represented as a requirement of the ancient gods; but director Joss Whedon makes a powerful link with the need for a virtual sacrifice in a horror ‘film’ to appease our ancient, primal needs as audience.
The film could be saying something about filmmaking itself; the three layers of The Corporation’s base could represent the three levels of filmmaking:
• The college friends in the cabin are the actors, playing out a scenario.
• The Corporation agents in the bunker are the behind-the-scenes crew – directors and producers – inventing that scenario.
• The ancient evils below are we, the audience, enjoying it, needing it.
• The Corporation agents in the bunker are the behind-the-scenes crew – directors and producers – inventing that scenario.
• The ancient evils below are we, the audience, enjoying it, needing it.
The ancient power is represented, in Greek mythology, by the Titans, the parents of the ancient Greek gods. According to myth, the Kraken, a Titan, could only be appeased by the blood of Andromeda, the virgin princess. The implication, in the film’s narrative, is that we, the audience, need the catharsis of virtual violence to satisfy our natural need for real violence. We desire horror, the film suggests, to satisfy the ‘beast below’.
The film confronts issues of effects theories and the desensitisation of audiences. A female Corporation technician, Wendy, is speaking to a security guard, attempting to ease his discomfort with the horrors of his job; she argues that you ‘get used to’ the horrendous aspects of their sacrificial task. ‘Should you?’ he replies, almost to us, the audience. The Corporation staff, like us, the audience, are watching and enjoying the action, even represented as eating popcorn and drinking coke at one point, as they enjoy the obligatory generic horror sex scene.
MediaMagazine 35, February 2011: the ‘Culture’ issue
The horror genre is one of the media’s most successful genres. Since Le Manoir du Diable (Méliès, 1896), stories that aim to scare their audience have proved immensely popular. Daniel Cohen observes that:
cultures create and ascribe meaning to monsters, endowing them with characteristics derived from their most deep-seated fears and taboos
cultures create and ascribe meaning to monsters, endowing them with characteristics derived from their most deep-seated fears and taboos
An analysis of horror monsters in the light of their cultural contexts can, therefore, give an insight into the anxieties and concerns of the contemporary culture. Of course, not all people have the same worries at any given time, but it is possible to identify general cultural and contextual trends through the monsters created for horror texts.
MediaMagazine 38, December 2011: the ‘Politics’ issue
Women have often been represented within the Horror film as weak characters whose purpose is to be menaced by the monstrous threat, only to be saved by the masculine hero. While such gender stereotyping was rife within the genre, in the late 1970’s American horror cinema underwent a profound change as directors such as George A. Romero, Wes Craven, Tobe Hooper and John Carpenter all responded to the politics of the time – the Vietnam War, race riots, civil unrest and the growing Feminist movement – and incorporated them into their horror films. Night of the Living Dead (1968), The Last House on the Left (1972), The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) and Halloween (1974) were all preoccupied with ‘the horrors at home’ and slowly begin to reposition the female within the genre: no longer weak and unable to defend themselves, these ‘new women’ of horror would not only protect themselves but actively seek out the threat and destroy it.
MediaMagazine 1, September 2002
Here are the four key assumptions that underpin the tradition of concern about the effects of media violence:
1. ‘Violence’ is a unit of meaning that can be abstracted from occasions and modes of occurrence, and measured – with the correspondent assumption that the more violence there is, the greater its potential for influence.
2. There is a mechanism, usually called ‘identification’, which makes viewers of ‘violence’ vulnerable to it – such that it thereby becomes a ‘message’ by which they are invaded and persuaded.
3. The task of media researchers is to identify those who are especially ‘vulnerable’ to the influence of these ‘messages’.
4. All these can be done on the presumption that such messages are ‘harmful’, because ‘violence’ is intrinsically anti-social.
All four of these assumptions are superficially persuasive, yet they do not stand up to any serious scrutiny. I could easily spend this entire article showing how absurd and unsubstantiated these four premises are, but that is not where I want to go. Nor do I want to go in the related direction of asking the question: ‘why on earth haven’t people noticed how silly and unsupported these premises are?’ To be provocative, let me say only that if we were to do so, it would lead inexorably to the conclusion that the ‘violence/effects’ argument has much the same status for modern society that accusations of witchcraft had in the thirteenth century.
1. ‘Violence’ is a unit of meaning that can be abstracted from occasions and modes of occurrence, and measured – with the correspondent assumption that the more violence there is, the greater its potential for influence.
2. There is a mechanism, usually called ‘identification’, which makes viewers of ‘violence’ vulnerable to it – such that it thereby becomes a ‘message’ by which they are invaded and persuaded.
3. The task of media researchers is to identify those who are especially ‘vulnerable’ to the influence of these ‘messages’.
4. All these can be done on the presumption that such messages are ‘harmful’, because ‘violence’ is intrinsically anti-social.
All four of these assumptions are superficially persuasive, yet they do not stand up to any serious scrutiny. I could easily spend this entire article showing how absurd and unsubstantiated these four premises are, but that is not where I want to go. Nor do I want to go in the related direction of asking the question: ‘why on earth haven’t people noticed how silly and unsupported these premises are?’ To be provocative, let me say only that if we were to do so, it would lead inexorably to the conclusion that the ‘violence/effects’ argument has much the same status for modern society that accusations of witchcraft had in the thirteenth century.
MediaMagazine 12, April 2005
First of all, the enjoyment gained from witnessing violence is by no means a new phenomenon. Forget the nostalgic ‘It’s not what it used to be’ claims; if anyone ever tries to tell you that today’s generation are any more anarchic and violent than yesterday’s, you should give them a good kickin’.
But seriously, let’s get some perspective. It’s true that the rapid development of the cinema and other media technologies in the last hundred years has given rise to a previously unimaginable array of ways to view violence; but let’s not forget that any violence witnessed before our cinematic age was, excluding the theatre, very real and undoubtedly very violent. However, despite how horrific these gladiator tournaments, public executions and bare-knuckle boxing matches may have been, it may still be harmful in today’s climate to be surrounded by cinematic death and destruction. In fact, some may argue that the flippancy and quantity with which this ‘fake’ violence is manufactured may be creating a dangerously casual and deluded attitude towards suffering.