Horror Movies and Ethics: An Introduction

Last weekend I went to see the remake of the 1992 horror classic Candyman at the Parkway Theater, located on the southwest corner of North and Charles Streets.

The Parkway was a New York Fried Chicken, then it became the Chicken Box Theater where I performed my solo show, Dreadlocks, Rock ‘n Roll & Human Rights as part of the Charm City Fringe Festival – so the place has a history. It is also the new home of the Maryland Film Festival.

Anyway, Candyman was not only a great remake, but it dove into a richer examination of racism and gentrification in urban America. Like the original, the film centers on the Cabrini Green housing projects in Chicago, designed by the government to house black World War II veterans who were prevented from getting the same FHA loans afforded to white veterans, and consequently could not afford homes to live.

In fact, there was a 15-minute video essay on the original Candyman before the feature by artist and content creator Travis Case that fused historical background on housing discrimination in Chicago with the review of the film itself. The audience received a contextually deep and rooted history that made the film even more profound.

The film was conceived by Jordan Peele, former cast member of Mad TV (2003-2008), and of the popular Key and Peele comedy show series (2012-2015). Peele ventured out on his own to tackle the horror genre. His directorial debut was Get Out (2017) followed by Us (2019), which gave poignant as well as nuanced critiques on historical race and racial dynamics while delivering real scary punches. Peele, like Dave Chapelle, Richard Pryor, Dick Gregory, and others who used comedy as their medium to give sociopolitical critiques, succeeds in the horror genre.

Now, don’t get me wrong, you are not going to bear witness to a docudrama. You will have multiple moments of terror. When it comes to gore and fright, Peele delivers. But you will be impressed by the level of storytelling that exists within the film that raises the quality of both content and context.

I mean, isn’t that what it’s all about anyway? “Gather around the campfire and let me tell you a scary story.” I remember when I was a kid going away to summer camp, the scary story of the day was about the Hookman, who would prey upon the unsuspecting deep in the woods. Years later, I would see it on screen, only in an urban setting.

But that is the thing that most people miss about horror movies. Yes, the central goal is to scare the living hell out of you, but there are deeper tales, meanings, lessons to be told. And yes, you guessed it, I’m also talking about ethics. I posit that horror films, though on the surface are designed to frighten us, give us insights into ethical issues, dilemmas, behavior, and the ensuing consequences.

I’m not going to spoil the movie for you, but there were grave consequences for what happened to the man who became known as the Candyman, and each one after him who befell some injustice would exact the same. One stark commentary is that man’s inhumanity to man keeps the vicious cycle going. We create the monsters, and then the monsters destroy us.

We all came to that conclusion regarding the Frankenstein monster. Yes, the monster was terrifying looking and fully capable of wreaking havoc, but it was Dr. Frankenstein who was trying to create life from scraps, and when the good brain was destroyed during his experiment, he used the bad brain. How ethically unsound was that? Just because we can create another human being from body parts, should we?

As in the adage, truth is stranger than fiction, there are countless reports of shady, nefarious, and criminal experimentation upon living human beings, chronicled in books like Medical Apartheid by Harriet Washington.

And what was Dr. Frankenstein’s motivation? The death of his sister. His steady torrent of pain pushed him to pursue his dark path of reanimating an assembled corpse. Several casualties and the monster’s demand to have a bride of his own with equally horrifying consequences later, drove Dr. Frankenstein to utter despair. Both creator and creation eventually meet a bitter end on the North Pole.

Power is one of the most popular themes in horror films. In the 1986 classic Manhunter – based on Thomas Harris’ best-selling book Red Dragon – there is a scene where Dr. Hannibal Lecter from his prison cell has a telephone conversation with FBI profiler Will Graham who is trying to capture the serial killer known as the Tooth Fairy by getting into his head.

Dr. Lecter appeals to Will – he experienced killing as an FBI agent himself – that killing feels good because it makes one feels like God, why, because God has power. Dr. Lecter says to Will, “And if one does what God does enough times, one becomes as God is.”

This is a microcosm of what has existed throughout human history. Caesar Augustus, the first ruler of the Roman Empire, declared himself God. Tiberius succeeded him upon his death and was declared son of God. It was the pedestal of ultimate power – which corrupts absolutely – that motivates them to this maniacal push to oppress the Roman citizens and invade nations in other regions of the world. Mass bloodshed from empire expansion bathed this need to be supreme beings above all.

So, I invite you, of course to go to the Parkway – support your local theaters – or the theater closest to your home location to see Candyman. I hate to use a cliché, but I believe the film has something for everyone. And, as I continue this conversation about horror films and ethics, think about such films you have seen, and what themes that played underneath the surface. You will be surprised what you take away when you open your mind to what each one has to offer. Feel free to email me and share what you have discovered. Until then, happy viewing!


Ron Kipling Williams