Horror story
Updated 09:38pm (Mla time) Oct 27, 2004
By Conrado de Quiros
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the October 28, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
I WONDER why we don't have too many sightings of “aswang” [local type of ghoul] these days. There was one a couple of years ago, somewhere up north, I think. I saw it in one of the news programs, an oddity or comic relief item, though it probably didn't seem odd or comic to the people who were afflicted by the “aswang,” or thought they were. The story was amplified in the TV program "Magandang Gabi, Bayan" not long afterward.
As the story went, some villagers were alerted to the presence of the unholy creature by an unholy smell spreading into the village. And by the fact that the newly born babies in the place, of which there were plentiful, were in a constant state of agitation at night. They were certain the stench did not originate from a fetid river nearby and the babies' cries from mother's milk gone dry. Unfortunately, the villagers never captured or killed the “aswang.” They caught sight of it on several occasions and with the aid of torches and flashlights gave chase, but it was too fast for them and disappeared in a flash in the moonless haze above the thatched roofs.
Anthropologists, of course, have an explanation for it. “Aswang” have a way of materializing in times of want. It's people's way of coping. They project their fears to the outside world, in the form of unholy creatures, which despite their fearful countenance (the local comic books had a way of drawing them that scared the wits out me as a kid) were capable of being destroyed. Not so poverty.
Maybe so. But anthropologists themselves, particularly in the godforsaken places of this country, of which there are plentiful too, have been known to glance behind them on a dark and lonely road in the witching hour.
Well, in lieu of “aswang” sightings, we do have a plethora of horror movies invading cable TV and, even scarier, feel Halloween invading the hotels and restaurants. I don't know though that the movies, local or foreign, still manage to give people the kind of fright appropriate to All Saints' Day, or more aptly All Souls' Day.
When I was a kid, the two popular movie genres were Westerns and horror movies. The Westerns thrilled and the horror movies chilled. Indeed, it wasn't just horror movies that were popular then, horror comics and horror radio programs were so, too. By far, the scariest were the horror radio programs, the "Gabi ng Lagim" [Nigh of Horror] types that featured some pretty awesome voice talents. What made the radio horror stories more terrifying than the movies was that it relied on the power of suggestion. What is scarier than what you see is what you don't see. Doors creaking, wings flapping, wild noises in the night -- all these, or the simulation of them, terrified more than the sight of nocturnal denizens creeping up on the hero and heroine in the movies.
Both the Westerns and the horror movies eventually died for various reasons. The Western died in a blazing gunfight with realism in the 1960s, realism ending up the faster draw. The Western was based on a heroic code not unlike that of the Japanese samurai movies, proof of which being that one of the most successful Western of all, which spawned no end of sequels, was "The Magnificent Seven," which came off Akira Kurosawa's "The Seven Samurai." To this day, Japan, which still clings in great part to tradition, continues to make samurai movies, though increasingly in animé form. Hollywood no longer does Westerns, or makes a whole industry of them. The inspiration is gone.
Horror movies, too, have suffered a tremendous decline, from the glory and gory Hammer days of the 1960s to the gory but not so glory days of zombie movies. I don't know what the reasons for it are. I suspect realism, too, had a great deal to do with it. You've got to be a little innocent or believe in something to suspend disbelief in a horror movie. You can't be scared as hell by hellish creatures or supernatural forces if you've become cynical or angry. The 1960s generation may not have been completely cynical, but it was angry. It was angry at many things, not least the Vietnam War, which became the other word for atrocity. You can't have a horror movie more horrifying than the one titled "My Lai." That massacre gave a face to horror to a whole generation.
We've been holdouts in the horror department, our movies continuing to mine the unearthly or ungodly long after Hollywood ceased to do so. But I don't know that they continue to gather big audiences, or still cause them to be deliciously frightened the way they did us long ago. The genre, of course, has gotten a new lease in life with the Asian horror genre spawned by "The Ring." I understand "Feng Shui," which has been quite successful, dips into that pool.
Why do horror movies continue to exert a fascination on us? Maybe the anthropologists have a point when they say our belief in the magical and fantastic, the supernaturally sublime and horrifying, heroes and “aswang,” is our way of projecting our fears into the world and resolving them through bravery and incantation. Maybe it's true, “aswang” sightings and horror movies flourish in periods of horrendous want and dire economic dislocation, enabling or persuading us to believe that however fearful our enemies are, we will vanquish them in the end. With hunger becoming more prevalent and a financial collapse waiting in the wings, maybe we'll dwell more and more on these as forms of escape in months to come. I recall that Imelda Marcos became more and more supernaturally inclined, or blamed the country's woes on unearthly causes, during the twilight of her and her husband's rule.
But that may be the most horrifying thing of all, our inability or unwillingness to see the real horrors creeping upon us in this cobwebbed land. We may yet see the greatest horror movie of all. In life.