Today is a symbiotic day for me to write this piece. I spent the day traveling to Virginia and, as I drove further and further south, I had flashbacks to scenes from Wrong Turn (2003) and Jeepers Creepers (2001). At one point I was certain that I drove past the exact point where Darry (Justin Long) climbed down that creepy pipe in the monster’s yard and I was momentarily convinced there were bodies down there. Unlike those in every horror film made, I was smart enough not to go back and investigate. That being said, I pondered something that I heard in a the documentary Why Horror (2014) where someone makes this beautifully obvious yet understated point that horror is really the only genre that leaves a lasting emotional imprint on a person. It becomes a reference point for so many things in our lives. Its images are the darkness beyond the trees, the monster beneath the bed, and the reason we know to never say “I’ll be right back.” Every time I drive south, I immediately picture these scenes from wrong turns down dusty roads. And every time anyone, I mean anyone, goes in the water they certainly conjure up images of…Jaws (1975).
