It should be noted beforehand that this post contains so many fuckin’ spoilers your face will melt.

When asked what my favorite horror film I always say without missing a beat, “Session 9″ (review). There was a brief period a couple of months ago where Paranormal Activity (review) took the top spot, but careful reflection brought me back to Earth and to peddling the Brad Anderson-directed psychological thriller starring David fucking Caruso to anyone foolish enough to engage me in a discussion on horror movies.

It should be known that my love of this film borders on the extreme. The banner of I Love Horror is modeled after it (for now), and in addition to owning the DVD (natch) and a poster (true dat), I almost when so far as to buy a t-shirt featuring the film’s box art and final line of the movie, but was stopped when it was confirmed whoever made the shirt is lazy and printed them all with a crooked image.

But I digress.

When I first saw the film, I was confused. While not egregiously convoluted (like Primer), the confluence of events that lead up to the final line of the movie, which attempts to reveal why everything happened, does make one tend to scratch their head. There are little nuances and subtleties that have a tendency to be overlooked and picked up on only during second viewing. One of the aspects of the film that kept people guessing was Simon. Who is he? First some background.

In Session 9, a crew of asbestos abatement professionals are hired to  clean out the Danvers State Mental Hospital. Gordon, the Scottish and  likable leader of the crew, is showing signs of stress, brought about by  the birth of his daughter Emma and the apparent lack of work he and his  team has been receiving. Once inside, the cracks begin to show, and the building’s horrific past begins to reflect on the actions of the crew. One of  the workers eventually discovers a set of tapes that reveal a series of  interviews between a psychologist and a patient, Mary Hobbes.  Committed to the hospital for killing her brother and parents, it is revealed that Mary suffers from multiple personality disorder. In addition to the Princess and Billy, one of  the personalities is Simon, who is revealed to have introduced herself to  Mary when she fell upon a china doll she received as a gift, cutting her chest up and leaving her horrifically scarred. Simon tells Mary to kill, resulting in her incarceration.

Several theories have been put forth concerning Simon’s nature and his relationship to the events of the film, one of which I would like to discuss in greater detail. Ellen Datlow, in a book co-written by Terri Windling, postulates that Simon is a “malignant genius loci,” as opposed to Mary’s alternate personality. For those who didn’t waste $45,000 on Classics degree, a genius loci is a spirit from Roman mythology that dwells within a specific place, often serving as a protector. If used in a contemporary manner, it is often considered the atmosphere of a location as opposed to an incorporeal being, serving as a major principle of the New Rationalism architectural movement. Placed within the context of what happens to Gordon, this place is clearly the human mind.

<sidenote> When writing this article I took Datlow’s interpretation of “genius loci” to refer to the hospital itself. When watching the film again and coming up with my argument, it became clear the place she was referring to is the human mind. However, if my initial assumptions are indeed true, then Datlow’s interpretation is very, very wrong. </sidenote>

Throughout the film Simon’s voice is heard, typically in situations where Gordon’s sanity is revealed to be on shaky ground. The first instance occurs when Simon and Phil are making their initial inspections of Danvers. In an intensely creepy scene that sets the mood for the film, Simon introduces himself to Gordon by simply saying “Hello, Gordon” and forgoing any pleasantries. It should be known that at this point the audience is completely unaware of who – or what – Simon is.

Later that evening Gordon heads home to celebrate the winning bid with his wife and inadvertently causes a pot of boiling water to spill on his leg. Now, any normal individual, that is, one not affected by a failing career, the stress of a new daughter, and internal strife among his close friends and employees, would simply deal with the excruciating pain and move on. As we come to learn, it is this event that allowed Simon to exert his influence upon the already weakened Gordon (”Do it, Gordon”), resulting in the death of his wife, daughter, and dog (fucker wouldn’t stop barking).

The argument that Simon can be considered an alternate personality is given ample evidence with his appearance through the mouth of Mary following the utter breakdown of her other two personalities. With Gordon, we’re never given any indication that he is in any way apart of him. However, one of Mary’s alternate’s, Princess, claims to be unaware of Simon’s presence, something that is not entirely common in cases of multiple personality disorder. Billy, however, is perfectly aware of Simon, and at one point in the film states that he is “asleep” and that he would not wake him for Mary’s sake.

From this it can be rationalized that Simon is indeed a malevolent force that lies dormant in the mind waiting for the opportunity to introduce himself and exert his influence over the individual.  Billy’s awareness of Simon, as well as Simon’s introduction via Mary may lend credence to the notion that he is an alternate, though given the events that surround his introduction to Mary and Gordon this argument loses a modicum of credibility. To reconcile this, I posit that Simon is an inherent personality trait, or to extend this even further a distinct emotion, that manifested itself as an alternate personality in Mary, and although not expressly stated, an alternate of Gordon whose presence is kept secret and seen only when Gordon enters his dissociative state. I would thus agree with Datlow’s principle argument, though feel the dismissal of Simon as an alternate fails to take into account several key aspects of the film.

Although Mary and Gordon are similar, their primary difference lies in the fact that Mary, as far as we know, exhibited no signs of stress, anxiety or mental weakness before falling on the China doll. Simon utilized Gordon’s weakness by introducing himself earlier on (”Hello Gordon, do you know who I am?”), whereas with Mary he waited for an opportunity, though perhaps her other multiple personalities presented themselves before Simon made his appearance.

Any confusion regarding Simon’s true nature is summed up in the final line of the film: “I live in the weak and the wounded, doc.”

The notion of fear is entirely subjective; what scares one makes another laugh. I certainly have  no real phobia of clowns (coulrophobia), but I know some people that are genuinely terrified of them. In contrast, I am terrified of spiders, while some love them and think they’re beneficial and for some reason save them instead of squishing them underfoot. These people are fools and will end up being our downfall. And when the spider clowns arrive….ah shit.

In the end, only a small handful of films have generally instilled in me a sense of fear. Whether it was due my incredibly young age or the fact that I’m a huge coward is beyond me, as none of these films have a single identifying characteristic that generally spooks me. This is an attempt to flesh it out.

5. Sleepaway Camp The general time period of viewing this classic has been forgotten (I may have been eight, but I think it was closer to twelve or so), but I distinctly remember losing sleep at night over the ending, which ranks in my mind as one of the most fucked up moments in all of horror. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the fact that Angela was revealed to be a transgendered male that terrified me – I don’t think my little brain even really comprehended what I was seeing – but the look on her face and the eerie amalgamation of hissing and growling that she was making as she stood there stark naked holding a knife in her hand. Here’s the video. Have a fresh pair of pants ready, ’cause this is surely shit inducing.

4. Event Horizon Despite being directed by Paul W. S. Anderson, whose modus operandi as of late seems to be bubble-gum action adventure tripe (I read his script for the Castlevania movie – utter hilarity), Event Horizon was scary as fuck, forcing me to sleep with music playing the night I saw it. Its method of conveying fear was seen in two ways: first, the idea of being trapped on the ship while hallucinating, compounded by the fact that Sam Neill’s scarred and burned face kept appearing out of nowhere; and second, the very concept of a place worse than Hell was absolutely terrifying to me. That, and the line “Where we’re going, we won’t need eyes to see.”

3. A Nightmare on Elm Street III: Dream Warriors I honestly have no idea why this film scared me, but I think it might have something to do with the fact that I was an eight-year old watching Freddy Krueger treating a man like a marionette with his veins. That’s enough to scar anyone, especially those with a fear of puppets. Nowadays I just kinda scoff at the fact that it actually scared me, but I was eight, and maybe I pushed it into my subconscious, but I have a huge scar on my left wrist from when I almost had a vein ripped open. Clearly the work of Freddy Krueger disguised as an eight year old girl. Or stigmata.

2. Session 9 I have long proclaimed that Session 9 is one of the best and most effective horror films ever made. This proclamation contains a hint of objectivity, as it genuinely freaked the shit out of me as I watched alone one night. The fact that my dad was in the other room and the kitchen light was on and I’m fairly certain my brother was about twenty feet away from did little to deter me from looking over my shoulder during the final twenty minutes. As Gordon is running through Danvers looking for the source of the noises and Phil explores the underground tunnels, we’re slowly given an explanation for the events that have occurred. The film ends with an allusion to the true reality of the situation, found in the final line, “I live in the weak and the wounded, Doc.” Not only did this film terrify me, but it inspired me to proudly call for horror movies that eschewed convention, preferring instead to focus on the people and mounting tension.

1. The Blair Witch Project Say what you will about this film, but cinema verite can be very effective, especially when you go home to a pitch black house at two in the morning all by yourself. I was but a wee lad of seventeen when I saw it, but its combination of supposedly real events and unique methods of conveying mounting tension resulted in a terrifying experience at the time. Looking back I was one of the few to actually support this film, but one can’t deny the impact it’s had on independent horror and the future of cinema verite film making as a whole. It allows the viewer to get up close and personal with the antagonists, and gives us a glimpse at expressions of fear not otherwise seen through standard film making.

What about you? What movies have actually scared you?

In doing some searching for nifty backgrounds to spruce up me bloggity blog, I discovered a post from AICN from almost 9 years ago that featured a one sheet for what was an upcoming psychological thriller by Brad Anderson.

Not gonna lie – I fucking love it and want to buy it and frame it and stare at it longingly. Until then, here’s David Caruso doing what he does so well – overacting.

Director: Brad Anderson
Year: 2001
Country: USA

Session 9 is one of those movies people rent because it’s Saturday night, they’re bored, and it has a cool box cover. They’re looking for a way to pass the time, and the fully expect to forget the film once its over. But Session 9 won’t let that happen, and the viewer is thus privy to one of the most genuinely frightening and original horror films to appear in the last decade.

The story is as follows: a group of five Hazmat workers are given one week to remove the asbestos from the crumbling Danvers State Mental Institution. With the deadline looming, the relationship between the men starts to strain, leading to distrust and an overall sense of dread, brought on by the building and its sinister presence. Note: Most of that was paraphrased from the Wikipedia entry. I don’t think I’m a bad writer, but I can write a film synopsis to save my life)

Many say the star of the film is the building, Danvers State Hospital, and although a major factor, I’d like to give the nod to the delightfully horrifying voice of Simon. Making an appearance early on in the film, his (its?) eerie growl sets the mood for the entire film. His role as the motivator and instigator behind the events on the session tapes parallels the events of the films, though this is revealed toward the ending, with Anderson relying on the characters and their tumultuous pasts and current woes to act as the primary tension builder. This in itself makes Session 9 a rare treat among modern American horror films, which tend to dispense of character development in favor of violence, though I can only assume this is so we don’t get too attached to them, as they all usually get dispatched in gruesome ways.

One often overlooked aspect of this film, and indeed in most horror films, is the soundtrack. Anderson took a different route than most American horror films, utilizing nothing more than a piano to help convey the dread the characters have no idea is upon them. Single notes, building up into a crescendo and repeating endlessly allows the tension to build upon itself, specifically during the final twenty minutes of the film. This lack of a typical horror movie score prevents the viewer from predicting what will happen next, adding to the originality of the film and enhancing the dread it conveys. We’re spared the music that warns us of impending doom, forcing the audience to sit on the edge of their seats and await the scare that might never come.

Session 9 doesn’t rely on cheap scares to frighten the viewer, and for that it deserves the highest accolades. Though this review is slightly biased – Session 9 has been my favorite movie for years now – I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention some of its faults. While the acting is solid, David Caruso has a tendency to overact, providing way too much emotion in a scene that, although emotional for the characters, makes me wonder if he’s going to start crying. His growing virulence toward his co-workers as the film progresses culminates with the following scene:

This is only slightly less cheesy than when he says “You shuck fiber in there with us!” Despite all this, David Caruso does a pretty decent job of being a complete dickhead, and the remaining actors give solid performances. Another complaint given about the film, and one I only half agree with, is the use of a red herring, though its use is incredibly subtle and thus I feel not a hindrance to the overall effectiveness of the film.

In short, Session 9 is a taut psychological thriller that relies on more than cheap scares to frighten the viewer. The many elements that go into making a genuinely scary horror movie all fall into place, resulting in a wholly original horror film that suffers from a severe lack of the recognition it truly deserves.