I’ve always been afraid of decomposing bodies.
Not that I’ve seen any up close, thank God. I’m talking about in the movies, where they’re as prevalent in the horror genre as chatty friends in terrible rom-coms.
So that’s why I don’t watch many horror flicks. Oh, sure, I’ll turn to them now and then if they’re on TV, but I invariably shield my eyes. It doesn’t even matter if the picture is lousy cinematically; I don’t enjoy watching zombies or any other being made up to have putrified flesh jump out at me.
A long time ago, I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark over and over again to make sure I could stand the scene where Indy and Marion are trapped in a tomb with a host of dusty mummies. Nowadays, it seems pretty tame, but at the time, it scared me out of my wits. There’s something about rotting corpses that makes me want to say, “Zoinks, Scoob!” I don’t like ’em.
I’m probably not alone. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who’s like “Hey, I really enjoy seeing flicks with a whole lotta decomposing bodies.” It’s not exactly an audience-pleaser, is it? Still, some movies can’t do without them, and I suppose they’ll always be a fixture of horror pictures … coming out of nowhere in the dark, with a crash in the soundtrack.
Maybe it’s the jolt I really can’t take. Whatever it is, I’m not down with rotting corpses in my films. You can keep ’em.