My Scary Movie

I don’t watch scary movies. I can’t fathom why people enjoy being terrified. I fail to understand how something that makes you quake with fear can also be entertaining. What I do acknowledge is that every so often, somewhere in between the moments of terror a decent film with interesting characters can be found. That’s why I will occasionally partake in a DVD viewing of something that might be deemed frightening, with copious use of the fast forward button.

This is what I mean when I say I enjoy the Scream films for the dialogue.

I like to imagine that all of Sidney Prescott’s friends and family went to live on a farm together, and Wes Craven simply avoids writing farewell scenes. It easier to imagine thanks to the fact that I haven’t ever witnessed an entire death scene – how are we to know for sure that being gutted is necessarily fatal? Drew Barrymore probably shook off a few glancing stabs and skipped away to make Charlie’s Angels. It makes complete sense if you think about it.

My housemate Jim has spent the last 5 years trying to convince me to see a scary movie with him in the cinema. He’s under the impression that my excessive leaping, shrieking and hiding would be just as entertaining as any movie we might actually be viewing. Given that I once had to stop watching an episode of Dr Who because it was freaking me out, it’s fair to say he was right.

So, Jim finally got his wish, and my one and only scary movie cinema experience occurred the other week when I went to see Scream 4. First up, breaking news, people die in this one. Secondly, I could not find a fast forward button anywhere. The only way I was talked into going at all was because Jim had seen the movie a few days earlier, given me a complete plot breakdown, and agreed to sit beside me and narrate what was about to happen before it happened.

Sample Jim Spoiler #1

Jim: She will walk outside, we will cut back to the friend inside, then the killer will burst out of the cupboard to her left and stab her to death.

Painefull: Her left or our left?

J: Her left.

P: So she dies?

J: Yes. The girl in the opening scene dies.

Sample Jim Spoiler #2

P: (slouched, shirt pulled up over my head) Is she about to die?

J: No.

P: (bobbing my eyeline above the neckline of my shirt) Is she dying in one minute?

J: No.

P: (a hint of hope creeping in, now watching the screen properly) Does she have 20 minutes?

J: Okay, now she’s about to die.

Given that I once convinced Jim that we should definitely see Bride Wars on the big screen, I suppose every single moment of terror was some form of karmic retribution. Fi, who sat on my right, was at one point concerned I may have a panic attack. I really wish it had occurred to me to have a panic attack – it would have been a fantastic excuse to run out.

So tick that one off the bucket list – I will never be doing it again. I had to check under my bed 3 times that night, and a minimum of twice ever since. You know you’ve lost touch with the rational when you catch yourself wondering if a killer could be hiding under a pile of shoe boxes in the back of your wardrobe.

On the upside, my cardio is definitely feeling the benefits of the pre-dawn sprint to my car now that I’m on early shifts. I’ve even added a little zigzag maneuver to help avoid all shadows that I think adds a really nice zest to the work-out.


Painefull Out

P.S. Jim and Mick’s hilarious idea to greet me home from work one day wearing Scream masks has been cancelled since I showed them the softball bat I keep under my bed.