Before my next review is up, a few thoughts on horror movies

Admittedly, I am a passionate fan of horror movies. I realize they're not for everyone. But they are for me, and I have no problem squaring that with my faith.

Why? Because horror movies, in their manifold incarnations, do not shy away from the depths of human depravity. Most movies do. In fact, most Hollywood movies present some bland flavor of addle-brained humanism that simply flies in the face of reality and human history. There are very noteworthy exceptions, but they prove the rule.

Horror films in recent years have recovered an element from the 1970s era of horror and exploitation that is both welcome and, in some cases, regrettable: extreme violence. It's regrettable when that violence is meant to titillate or provoke only. It's welcome when it's meant to draw a larger point for us, and yes, some horror films do just that. At their best, they should do that.

I view the world through blood-colored glasses, admittedly. We humans are incredibly brutal. One need only read in passing about some of the horrific violence visited upon people for absolutely no good reason, whether here in the U.S. or elsewhere, to realize that all sorts of people -- indeed, all people -- are capable of administering horrific pain, absolutely stunning cruelty, and unmitigated brutality to other people. The reasons for doing so, however they're given, have always been, are, and always will be reflections of nothing other than the will toward self-justification. We all know the Holocaust was utter evil on a mass scale; how many of us have considered the de facto genocide visited upon the Germans by their Allied conquerors after the fall of Berlin? It's well documented, but it flies in the face of our mythology of the U.S., British, and Russians as virtuous defenders of freedom and goodness.

Why bring this up? Because it reminds us that the best of us are every bit as capable of evil on a mass (or individual) scale as the worst of us. It's in all of us.

It's certainly in me. And that's one of the reasons I turn to Christ, look to the cross, pray to Almighty God that He might continue the work of salvation and sanctification within my withered soul. (Withered not by horror movies, to bring this full circle, but by the very real violence I grew up with, witnessed at home, survived at home, and gradually learned was everywhere, everywhere.)

I am not exclusively a horror fan, not by any means. I love screwball comedies and silent dramas, for two examples. I love Ozu and Bresson, Lang and Dreyer, Murnau and Tarkovsky, and so many more directors, actors, producers, and movies.

But among what I love are some very good (and also, some very bad, very dumb, very silly) horror movies. Horror movies don't necessarily reflect reality; in many cases, they can only hint at the real horror of being human in this world. One current word should suffice: Congo. But horror movies can convey, with sometimes convincing force, the evil behind such inhumane barbarity.

Why do I need to see that, one might wonder? Because, for me at least, it's easy to fall into a dismissive attitude that focuses only on death tolls and numbers. As Joseph Stalin is attributed with saying, "The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic."

Horror movies typically focus on the death of humans, one by one. They don't turn away. And therein lies their value, to me and perhaps others, as well.

For me, ultimately, they point me to the absolute necessity of worshiping and following Jesus Christ. What He paid on the cross can come as no surprise to anyone with even a vague familiarity with human history. The reason He paid it? The depravity that lies at the heart of the humans who made, and make, that history. Us. All of us.