the other is so far removed from normalcy, the
protagonist may reject her own suspicions before
she experiences the other more directly and
announces the menace to those around her. When
her warnings are ignored, the central character is
directly targeted by the other. She must either enlist
help or face the monster on her own. In the end, the
protagonist may destroy the other—or at least
appear to. Horror narratives tend to feature resur-
rections and other false resolutions. Originally,
these open endings were meant to give the audience
100 CHAPTER 3 TYPES OF MOVIES
12The infectious otherOne reason we go to horror
movies is to confront our fear of death and insanity, as well
as the anxiety that arises out of our ultimate inability to
control either condition. As a result, the other that fills the
role of antagonist often carries the threat of infection and
transformation. The raging zombies in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days
Later... (2002) [1] are former humans changed into mindless
killing machines by a runaway virus. Hideo Nakata’s Ringu
(1998) and Gore Verbinski’s 2002 American remake, The
Ring[2], contaminate via a videotape that transforms
viewers into hideously contorted corpses by converting
their trusted televisions into portals of evil.
one last scare; now, they are just as likely intended
to ensure the possibility of a profitable sequel.
This basic horror plot structure offers a number
of typical variants: the protagonist may actually be
directly or indirectly responsible for summoning
the other, a violation that places even greater
responsibility on her to restore the normal world.
The protagonist may also have to enlist the help of
a mentor or apprentice, or even sacrifice herself, in
order to defeat the antagonistic other. Sometimes
the protagonist actually becomes the other. She
becomes infected and attempts to deny, and then
hide, her encroaching transformation. She may
pursue a solution, but ultimately faces the decision
to either destroy herself or face a complete meta-
morphosis. Oftentimes, as in similar science-fiction
stories, she is somehow saved by the power of her
own humanity.
This protagonist is often a loner, someone
socially reviled who must save the community that
rejects her. We identify with her because she is (ini-
tially, at least) unusually fearful, a weakness that
allows us the greatest possible identification with
her struggle. This characteristic is certainly not
limited to horror films. Many movie narratives cen-
ter on flawed characters because they create high
stakes and allow for the kind of character develop-
ment that satisfies audiences.
While a significant number of horror-film antag-
onists are one-dimensional killing machines, many
of these others are actually more compelling char-
acters than the protagonists charged with destroy-
ing them. Vampires fascinate us because they can
be as seductive as they are terrifying. Other mon-
sters, such as Frankenstein’s monster or his prog-
eny, Edward Scissorhands, may actually display
more humanity than the supposedly threatened
populace. And, yes, the malevolent father in Stan-
ley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) and Freddy
Krueger of Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street
(1984) may be evil, but they have undeniable per-
sonality. Even the masked, robotic killers at the
center of the Halloweenand Friday the 13thslasher
franchises offer more complex histories and
motives than their relatively anonymous victims.
Horror-movie settings tend to fall into two cate-
gories. The first is the aforementioned “normal