Cinema provides a virtual environment specifically engineered to stimulate our cognitive and sensorial inclinations for our own entertainment. The cinematic experience itself is an embodied simulation based on illusory stimuli able to elicit the mirror neurons of our brains. As we step effortlessly into the characters’ shoes we immediately experience what they experience (Gallese and Guerra 2012; Gallese and Guerra 2015). The illusion does not stop at emotionally connecting with the characters and their adventures. We intuitively transform opaque cinematic techniques into flawless narrative (e.g., understanding an illogical jump cut as a natural blink of an eye).
As time went by, specific techniques were intuitively selected because of their effects on the audience. For instance, happy endings are the optimal results of a self-reinforcing socio-cognitive loop between the endorphin rush of satisfaction following the satisfying resolution of the plot and an industry that depends economically on those very neurochemicals to survive. Satisfied viewers are more likely to engage in positive word of mouth and a delighted audience will inevitably come back asking for more of the same, not unlike addicts. Indeed, we are addicted to the neurochemicals behind storytelling, no matter the quality of storytelling – even a bad movie can be enjoyed for its neurochemical stimulation [1]. Paraphrasing Marshall McLuhan’s famous motto, the neurochemical medium itself is the message (McLuhan 1964).
When we watch horror films, we are awash with neurochemicals. Frightening visual and acoustic stimuli set in motion a cascade of reactions in which the amygdala, a brain region where fear processing takes place, overrides any cerebral business-as-usual activity and sends neural signals directly to the hippocampus for mnemonic storage (Zheng et al. 2017). Meanwhile, the brain alerts our autonomic nervous system, activating the typical fight-or-flight response via the hormones released by the adrenal glands (adrenaline and cortisol), which are responsible for our racing heart, the sweaty hands, and our general alertness. We are literally ready for action as if we were there, beyond the illusion of the screen. The resulting arousal can be quite addictive, even in spite of the quality of the film itself. (The same could be said almost verbatim for rom-coms: what changes is the main neurochemicals involved, in this case, dopamine and oxytocin). Thus, something really sticks on the producers’ wall. Themes and characters are subjected to fashion trends and they can change dramatically over time, reflecting preoccupations and concerns caused by new technologies, sexual mores and social customs, diseases, threats from the ‘other(s)’, the psychopathological breakdown of the self, and many other popular anxieties (Jones 2018). However, something never goes away: the addiction to horror itself.
And yet, a story needs a setting, a plot, a thread, and characters to provide the audience with relatable vehicles of such neurochemicals. While writers, directors, and producers can come up with ingenious ways to repackage the usual contents and re-brand the same basic experience, the fundamental neurochemical flush to which horror is tied as a genre can become a ballast and a hindrance. Even though an arms race pushes creators to compete and tick every narrative box or fill every possible niche in the genre, there are certain cognitive limits to cinematic storytelling - which will be the topic of the next post in this series.
Notes
This post has been updated on 26 April 2020.
Please note that the opening image has been added on 8 July 2021.
[1] Even substandard films included in the category of paracinema can become “so bad it’s good” or guilty pleasures. Once grown up, we re-watch or discuss those B-movies with our friends and acquaintances, reinforcing our nostalgic relation to those flicks and closing a positive loop of paracinematic appreciation. We are indeed social primates. On the concept of paracinema see Sconce (1995).
Refs.
Gallese, V., and M. Guerra (2012). “Embodying Movies: Embodied Simulation and Film Studies”. Cinema: Journal of Philosophy and the Moving Image 3: 183–210.
Gallese, V., and M. Guerra (2015). Lo schermo empatico. Cinema e neuroscienze. Milan: Cortina.
Jones, D. (2018). Sleeping with Your Lights On: The Unsettling Story of Horror. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
McLuhan, M. (1964). Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. London: Routledge.
Sconce, J. (1995). “‘Trashing’ the Academy: Taste, Excess, and an Emerging Politics of Cinematic Style.” Screen (36)4: 371-393. https://doi.org/10.1093/screen/36.4.371
Zheng, J., et al. (2017). “Amygdala-hippocampal Dynamics during Salient Information Processing.” Nature Communications 8, 14413. https://doi.org/10.1038/ncomms14413