Meaning in Madness

The movie industry has long been used to push the ideas of the filmmaker onto captivated movie-goers. Every film under the sun, from now humorous examples such as Reefer Madness to timeless classics such as Casablanca, seems to be layered with meaning and, dare I say, propaganda. When examining horror films, should these instances of secret meaning be considered? Does it make the film more or less art-horrifying? Perhaps taking a few examples into account would best unveil the potential horror of having our minds filled with more than thoughts of Bela offering us a nice glass of wine.
Beginning with Them, the primary theme is extremely obvious. Due to nuclear testing, ants in White Sands, New Mexico have grown to amazing sizes and have started feeding on human beings. Eventually, the ants spread out, and the horror is brought straight to L.A., where the ants have nested underneath of the city. After a vicious struggle, the ants are seemingly wiped out for good, but the character Dr. Medford warns the viewer that, “When man entered the atomic age he opened a door to a new world. What we'll eventually find in that new world nobody can predict.” This warning indicates that Medford is fearful of nuclear progression, a fear that, unlike giant ants, carries into the real world of 1953. Again, this theme is obvious, but that is not always the case.
Looking at Suspiria, there are also “hidden” themes, this time much more subtly. The witches in the film, by extending their evil lives through black magic for the sake of obtaining vast wealth, were fueled by what some sociologists call hyperconsumption (the desire to consume [i.e. purchase] more than one could possibly ever need or use). Near the beginning of the film, the character Susie is shocked at how frequently money is discussed by the staff and students of her new ballet school home, but is casually told that she will get used to it. The school itself is extremely lavish, filled to the brim with all manner of baubles, and there is even a servant to tend to the student’s needs. However, we come to learn that this wealth has been obtained through horrible means of magic, and any who begin to snoop are immediately (and quite horribly) dealt with. Susie’s final confrontation with the Black Queen (the leader of the witches) ended when Susie used one of the Black Queen’s own trinkets to destroy her (the tail-feather of an ornamental [and rather gaudy] peacock). Furthermore, after destroying the Black Queen with a bit of her own bric-a-brac, Susie must escape the house whose furnishings are exploding, potentially symbolizing that an entire (though dreadfully extended) life of hording money to consume for the self has all been for naught as the items that were horded were just as prone to mortality as the shell of a woman that purchased them. Was it worth the demented existence of the Black Queen for her to fill her life with meaningless junk that ultimately would crumble? In some way is the viewer similar to the witch for hording goods and using others for profit, leaving them (the witches via killing) when they are of no further gain?
For the crown jewel in analysis of undertone in horror, consider George A. Romero’s zombie movies, which begin with Night of the Living Dead and move all the way through the dawn and the day until ending with Land of the Dead. Romero has a lot to say about humanity in these four movies. In the first one, though the zombies are pretty horrifying in their penchant for feasting on the flesh of the living, the entity that seems most likely to doom our group of survivors is the group of survivors themselves. Constant bickering and fighting for control in the group builds up until some in the group seek to betray others and leave them at the mercy of the zombies. Furthermore, there are definite tones of racial segregation in the film, which leaves the ending a tad in the realm of the fantastic (did the Sheriff really know what was in front of him?). In the second film, the zombies all flock to the shopping mall. One human survivor, when asking why the zombies would go to the mall, is answered, “[It is some] kind of instinct. Memory, of what they used to do. This was an important place in their lives.” Romero is eager to point out the hyperconsumption of America in the 70s by representing shoppers with mindless zombies whose only purpose is to get what they want (i.e. flesh of the living, and perhaps a Tickle Me Elmo). Day of the Dead takes the theme of humans destroying themselves to shocking new heights (Romero even makes the zombies seem innocent and the humans monsters), and Land of the Dead is the result of such feuding for superiority in the face of imminent danger. After watching one of Romero’s films, a person is inclined to think just a little less of him or herself for being one of the badguys.
Do these secondary themes make the horror genre work? Does art-horror come from the thought of Frankenstein’s Monster having a smoke, or does it come from understanding that humans were truly responsible for all of the misguided suffering that he caused? The theme of nuclear testing and horrors that it can cause in the real world from Them. Perhaps the idea of hyperconsumption turning us into shells surrounded by useless trinkets that are of no benefit to us. Maybe the concept that humans are the truest foes to everything around, nature and mankind alike. The fear of giant ants, witches, or zombies may exist, for they are rather gruesome beasts to behold. However, perhaps what keeps the horror fan coming back for more is the idea that the horror presented on screen is more real than it seems. !