Fear Not… a Little Horror Never Hurt a Soul

A dungeon of hyperlink chains rattled the bowels of 𝕏 and beyond last week, conjuring specters of angst and approval, when conservative commentator Allie Beth Stuckey took a meat cleaver to the horror genre on her podcast just in time for Halloween, her kindly Christian intentions notwithstanding.

“I just don’t think it is at all an option for Christians to not only fully participate in Halloween and all of its darkness and scariness, but I also just don’t think that Christians should be a fan of horror in general… I don’t think you should be reading books that make you scared. I don’t think that you should be listening to true-crime podcasts that make you scared. I don’t think you should be watching movies that make you scared.”

Her remarks sparked an “It’s alive!” lightning storm of discussions about whether Christians can engage the horror genre or not, particularly in regard to horror movies. Podcaster Matt Walsh came in particularly strong, posting, “horror is the most Christian genre of film.” Making clear that he’s not talking about Texas Chainsaw Massacre material, he went on:

“[S]upernatural horror is often subtly Christian and sometimes very explicitly Christian. It’s the only category of film where the supernatural, demons, spirits, exorcisms, the Church, etc., are consistently taken seriously. The only genre where the priest might actually be the good guy. Horror has deep roots in Christian thought and tradition.”

Mr. Walsh has some solid points, but calling horror the most Christian genre is a stretch since it could also be called the most un-Christian genre. For every stalwart exorcist that casts out a Hollywood demon or every final girl that slays a monster, there are a thousand demented freaks, sadistic torture scenarios, gruesome executions, graphic sex scenes, and fixations (or worse, glorifications) of all that most weighs human nature down: death, devilry, godlessness, and lust.

So, can Catholics “do” horror or no on Halloween? The answer is a qualified one—and it is (shocker) in favor of horror. Fear is an appropriate element in storytelling, but not if it is the dominant force. As Aristotle said, it is the brave man who feels fear but then has the right response to it.

Mrs. Stuckey’s position is rooted in the biblical exhortation, “Do not be afraid,” which is fair enough. Followers of Christ should not be anxious or fearful because they have absolute trust in the Almighty God and His love. She went on to say that people should not, therefore, purposefully consume content to make themselves scared, as that would be a direct contradiction of Jesus’ command.

But that’s where she isn’t fair enough. As Christians, we shouldn’t be actually afraid. As in, we shouldn’t fear that God will abandon us or worry over worldly things. But to enter a hair-raising tale in the mode of vicarious or cathartic experience is not un-Christian. Emotions are good, and they can be enjoyed in an imitative or relational way if they lead to the good.

And to be fair to Mrs. Stuckey, she didn’t mean that stories of suspense or thrillers were not for Christian consumption. She merely said that Christians should avoid immersing themselves with sensations of unmitigated terror because it is incompatible with the Christian spirit abiding in peace.

Though true in substance, she’s asserting something in a sometimes-subjective sphere. What terrifies one may cause another a thrill of pleasure, and not in an unhealthy way. People have different thresholds for different experiences. A piece of music may draw tears from one and a yawn from another. A werewolf tearing through a moonlit wood after a chiseled movie star may make some recoil with fear and others laugh with exhilarated amusement.

Where there is no room for argument is in the realms that Mrs. Stuckey (and Mr. Walsh) make clear: movies that are extreme in their ugliness are not to be endured by Christian sensibilities. Horror movies cross the line when they surrender to the fascination for evil and make a grotesque spectacle or celebration of depravity, death, and decay. It is a sickly soul that takes pleasure in perversity.

And such material in horror movies isn’t hard to recognize: pornography, stomach-churning violence, and demonic themes played for sheer shock value. Mrs. Stuckey is correct when she states that many of the spirited images associated with Halloween and horror represent real realms of evil. The occult is real, and not to be dabbled with. Witchcraft is real, and not to be waved away. Demons are real, and not to be given quarter. Horror for the sake of horror is not Christian.

Christians require a St. George for every dragon—some salvific power that puts evil in its proper place in relation to the good. Fear should not mold or tarnish or pollute the peace that is the gift of every Christian soul, and if movies cause anyone such deep unrest, they should be avoided. But if an appropriate measure of fear doesn’t fixate on unnatural disturbance or overthrow a Christian understanding of hierarchical reality, then fear should assume its place in the arts.

As one horror-dabbler to another, Matt Fradd once asked me if I thought horror stories, or horror movies, have any place in the Christian imagination. Holding well aside, again, all the unseemly, desensitizing, smutty trash that horror is infested with, I answered in the affirmative for another reason. There is a shade of horror that seeks to illustrate that man is not the ultimate power in the world—and though it may cause fear, for the Christian, it can be a reason not to fear.

People often have no control, no explanation, and seemingly no way out. These themes are what make horror movies horrifying—and those that then introduce victory and hope give horror symbolic purpose from a Catholic perspective. Fear can engender and augment faith. When faced with the calamities that beset the human condition, there is a fear that is appropriate; but even more appropriate is encountering deliverance from fear—or deliverance from evil.

Catholics can’t simply write off fear, as Mrs. Stuckey seemed to. It has been a mainstay in storytelling ever since there were stories. Fear is a subject of original relevance through peril, ghosts, monsters, murder, and the perennial struggle of light and darkness. The advent of Saw and Terrifier obscenities should not consign to their flames the ancient wisdom included in fairy tales and mythologies, where fear features as part of the fabric of imagination. The Christian experience necessarily involves encountering danger, adversity, and evil; and films that are upright about such encounters offer an uplifting arc after the descent into horror that can help and humble more than horrify.

Fear has its place, as the gothic gargoyles teach. Even Mrs. Stuckey recommends The Screwtape Letters in her episode, where there’s certainly a fearful psychology and strategy on display. Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy has distinct horror elements, as does Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. But these are set in a correct context. Fear is a reaction to the disordered, and that reaction is good, but it isn’t the whole picture. Stories that inspire fear should also present the remedy or resolution: a response that is redemptive.

Yes, fear is not a Christian’s bread and butter because it is spiritually off-center; but stories that fall off center in order to create intrigue and occasion, causing fear, can be efficacious in their depiction of a return to grace by grace. That is what good stories do. A story without fear of any kind isn’t any kind of story.

So, by all means, stay well away from the twisted, sadistic, and vile—don’t revel in hell’s outward manifestations of a satanic worldview, as so many horror movies and much of Halloween have been utterly degraded by. But don’t shy away from movies that cause a chill, a tension, or even fear, so long as they conclude on the right note, setting good and evil in their proper places.

Here’s a list of films that—though not all categorized as “horror” movies—are worth a watch on a Halloween night:

• Frankenstein (1931) and The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) dir. James Whale: Groundbreaking, immortal classics that are a chilling treat from a bygone era.
• The Seventh Seal (1957) dir. Ingmar Bergman: A knight returns from the Crusades to find his faith in crisis and his home ravaged by the Black Plague. A brooding, piercing, meditative work of art that wrestles with the problem of evil, the inevitability of death, the conundrums of religion, and the meaning of life. A “must-see” masterpiece for Catholics.
• The Birds (1963) dir. Alfred Hitchcock and Jaws (1975) dir. Steven Spielberg: A pair of high-strung, man-vs-nature spectacles, allegorizing the brutal mysteries all must contend with in some form in an unforgiving world, bolstered by the human spirit to hold on and be humble in the adventure of survival and salvation.
• Amadeus (1984) dir. Miloš Forman (theatrical cut, not director’s cut): A sublime drama perfect for Halloween, this period piece about Mozart is replete with villainous plots, masks, ghosts, requiems, and laughter, giving one of the most precise and profound depictions of the reality of sin and the inescapable challenge of trusting in the inscrutable goodness of God. A tour de force!
• Alive (1993) dir. Frank Marshall and Thirteen Lives (2022) dir. Ron Howard: Riveting true stories of endurance and determination that highlight the spiritual preciousness of life, where hope overcomes horror in the face of unimaginable peril.
• Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) dir. Guillermo del Toro: Darkly folkloric while enmeshed in the historical context of the turmoils of Francoist Spain, this film explores the intersection of fantasy and reality, where the horrors of the fairy tale equip people to conquer the horrors of the world.
• Signs (2002) and The Village (2004) dir. M. Night Shyamalan: These spiritually sensitive and thought-provoking films are gripping, suspenseful, and artful, allowing horror to unlock some of the secrets surrounding divine providence and human suffering.
• Poltergeist (1982) dir. Tobe Hooper: This haunted-house roller-coaster is a lot of fun and just a little edgy, following a fairy-tale formula that focuses on the strength of the family in the face of supernatural attack. Often over the top, this is a film that howls with mischievous delight in the spooky.
• Misery (1990) dir. Rob Reiner: Perhaps the most intense on this list as a classic depiction of good vs. evil, with a heart-pounding, tension-filled premise that matches the wits of a captor and a captive, powerful performances, and just enough of the horrific to have a true triumph. Not for the faint of heart, but a real thumper.

A dash of fear is fine fare for the Catholic moviegoer. It’s one of those things that can keep us grounded and God-centered. For all our learning, technologies, and discoveries, there are powers beyond our ken and control, and a good horror story wrestles with that to keep us humble—and holy. Fear may be opposed to faith in some ways, but the passing and indirect experience of fear can fortify faith. Happy Halloween to you horror hounds lurking in the choir loft.