When Horror Dishes Out Comeuppance: Did They Deserve It?

I’d like to start this off by prefacing where the idea for this article came from, as I feel it’s just as important as the article itself. I should also say that if you haven’t seen Midsommar (2019), I suggest you watch it before reading any further, as there will be spoilers aplenty.

It was May of 2019, and my sister had just died. I’d been back to work for a couple weeks but decided I needed another “me” day, where I could spend some time reflecting on what had happened by myself and weave in some things I enjoy. I decided I was going to eat a couple of chili dogs (not by the Tastee-Freez) and catch an early afternoon showing of Midsommar. I had seen Hereditary in 2018, and was blown away by the film’s style and acting, and was excited to give Ari Aster another go.

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Needless to say, the beginning of Midsommar was absolutely brutal for me, when Dani loses her family, a similar feeling I was currently going through. My present emotions had me completely engaged in every aspect of the film. The raw and powerful acting from Florence Pugh; the fulfilling and beautiful score from Bobby Krlic, and the bright and luscious cinematography (which was such a stark contrast to Hereditary). From jump street, I felt for and connected with Dani. The second she explained to her boyfriend (of four years) Christian (Jack Reynor), that she was worried about her sister; his response told me everything I needed to know. He sighed and I wanted his blood.

Every moment this man was on screen, I seethed. He was a liar. He was a fake. He didn’t care about her or her family. He even gaslit her to make her seem like she was being unreasonable when he didn’t let her know he was traveling abroad in two weeks. He used his position to make her feel guilty by leveraging his presence to comfort her. The list goes on as the film goes on.

Without going into too many spoiling details, the film concludes with Dani feeling like she finally has a family to grieve with and smiles on as her boyfriend meets his demise. I was so pleased. My crazed smile matched Dani’s, and if I had been alone in the theater, I would have stood up, put a fist to the sky, and given a mighty war cry. I was so pumped that I specifically remember sitting in my car afterward and saying out loud, “I am so glad that asshole died.” This was now not only my favorite horror movie of the year, but just my favorite movie in general.

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Fast-forward to October, to my second viewing of the film. Obviously, emotions were still running high, but the shock of my sister’s death had worn down quite a bit. Remembering how enthralled I was with Midsommar the first time through, I expected to be at least 70-80% there, and I was, except for one thing. I no longer felt like Christian deserved to die. Was he a total asshole? Absolutely! Was he the worst boyfriend in the world? Pretty fucking close! Did he deserve to be drugged, forced into breeding, paralyzed, stuffed into Teddy Ruxpin and cooked alive? Now, I was feeling that was a little extreme. Then it really dawned on me. On my first watch, my subjective emotions went completely feral and told me it was okay for this guy to basically be tortured to death because he’s an asshole. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I was, right? It got me thinking about all the horror films I’ve watched over the years, and how many times my current subjective mood, or the moods of those I’ve watched them with played a part in how I interpreted the death or comeuppance of an unlikeable character, and in horror, there are many, many moments. Let’s look at a few that popped in my mind.

I want to start with the dusty curmudgeon known as Mrs. Ruby Deagle from the hit Christmas-themed horror movie (or is it a horror-themed Christmas movie?) Gremlins. This woman is downright insufferable from the moment you see her on screen. The score lets you know she’s trouble as she walks onto scene and tells a young mother and her children tough shit and that she doesn’t give deadbeats extensions on their loans, especially at Christmas. She then follows that up with personally offering to take Billy’s dog to the vet and put him down. What. A. Bitch. So here we are, happy as a bunch of chicken-devouring Mogwai, that this senior citizen woman is being assaulted by Gremlins, and eventually ejected from her electronic motor chair through the window to her death. We clapped. We cheered. We were merry! It’s Christmas and we just got the best present ever! Wait a second… did we just clink some glasses of eggnog together because an old lady that was mainly just a heartless jerk with a distaste for dogs got brutally murdered by monsters? What’s wrong with us?

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Now, we’ve arrived at my example number two. Let’s jump two years ahead to David Cronenberg’s masterpiece remake of The Fly. An absolute unmatchable force of 1980’s body horror blended with great writing and unforgettable characters. Unfortunately, one of those unforgettable characters happens to be Stathis Borans (I know, he even has an asshole name!). Stathis, played by John Getz, a guy who excels in playing jerks, is a slimy overbearing ex-boyfriend that uses his work position to constantly create awkwardness and uncomfortable moments in Veronica Quaife’s life. They’ve been broken up for months, yet she still comes home to him using her shower, which is just another power-move way for him to say, “We’re done with this relationship when I say so.” Granted, as the film goes on, Stathis at least taps into his shady after-hours abortion doctor tank and offers to take Veronica to get whatever maggot-human monster baby is growing inside of her removed. It’s pretty noticeable that he’s mostly doing this to be owed a favor, not out of the goodness of his heart. Cronenberg decided (and we agreed!) that an equal punishment for his all-around creepiness was to have his foot and hand completely melted off his body, rendering him the use of only two limbs for the rest of his life. Hell yeah! Gore! Monsters! Jerks getting what they deserve! Wait… what? I’m all for this guy getting some SERIOUS boundary training and possibly a grade-A teaching moment ass-beating, but doesn’t crippling him in a way that will surely give him giant-insect-induced PTSD for his remaining days seem a little… inhuman? (Please don’t stop reading after that pun).

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Lastly, I thought about a more modern movie, and honestly, a flick that gives me so much anxiety that I can barely watch it. I’m talking about The Descent from 2005. If you’re familiar with this film, you already know who I’m referring to. Juno (Natalie Mendoza), the bossy self-proclaimed leader of the group that impulsively leads them into unmarked territory, that houses a cave of albino CHUDS. Juno is a little bit of a different case, because she does accidentally kill someone in a traumatically shocking incident and leaves them for dead. Not a great look, Juno. To top it off, the movie wants you to hate her extra hard, by writing in that she was having an affair with one of her friend’s husbands. These things combined are enough to warrant her getting stabbed in the leg by her friend and being left to be torn apart by beasts in the pitch black. But hey, the protagonist made it to safety, even if she did have to hear the murder screams from the tunnels below as she was doing it. Juno was a cheater! She totally deserved it… right?

We all tend to get so wrapped up with how our personal emotions are processing these stories that we unintentionally become a little overly bloodthirsty. The genius of horror writers and directors is that they can take advantage of those feelings without us ever really knowing or stopping, to think about it. As horror fans, we’re already going into a horror movie craving blood, death, and darkness, so when you factor in our personal lives and emotions, anything goes. We want their blood because we’ve all been hurt by these characters. It’s the only way for us to get back at them. Christian has never supported us when we’re grieving. Mrs. Deagle has taken our homes when we’re broke and threatened our dogs for doing normal dog things. Stathis is the creepy ex that holds power over us, and Juno is the betraying “friend” whose decisions create more trouble than help. Their make-believe punishments give us freedom from our real-life emotions. Surely this is no big discovery, but maybe you’ll stop to think about it the next time douchebag Rod gets hanged in his cell by Freddy or annoying Ted gets gutted by Jason. I know I’ll constantly be wondering… did they deserve it?

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