FILMS: The Death of Horror Films

Thirty years after The Exorcist, the horror film industry is faced with a new and troubling dilemma: We're not afraid anymore.

Sure, there are the random phobias; there'll always be a couple people who are afraid of heights or those who can't deal with spiders. But the fact remains: A movie will never again wreak havoc on the scale of Jaws or even Silence of the Lambs. As Michael Moore showed us in Bowling for Columbine, we live in a society of fear - so much so that even horror movies fail to freak us out anymore.

Willard is an interesting example. The recent release starring Crispin Glover is a remake of a relatively popular horror classic from 1971, and in the differences between the two editions, it is clear that our jaded culture is pushing the limits of what a film can do to get under our skin. The plots of the two films are nearly identical: Man befriends rats, man uses rats to do his dastardly deeds, then rats turn on him. In the details, however, one can begin to see how far we've sunk.

The title characters from each share very little in common. While Willard 1971 is something like a friendlier Norman Bates in a Beach Boy's body, Willard 2003 is a mix of Ted Kaczynski and Dr. Frankenstein with a little dash of Christopher Walken. The house in which Willard resides changes from a suburban dream to a Victorian nightmare in the time between the two films. Even the rats themselves have gotten bigger, more vicious and more deadly. Their ringleader, the mysterious rat Ben, looks relatively similar to the other rats in the 1971 version, while in 2003 he could probably kill a small horse.

In all aspects of the film, Willard seems to have been pushed to the extremes. No longer do the rats themselves induce fear, as was the main focus of the '71 version. In 2003 we need a crazier Willard, meaner rats and a nastier antagonist in the boss Martin, to even make it past the script readers. Admittedly, the direction is cleaner, the plot more economical and the special effects more spectacular, yet Willard 2003 comes up short of even raising a goose pimple. In the disappearance of the subtle aspects of horror, it seems that something else has been disappearing as well: that sublime, intangible feeling that makes you want to scream and continue watching at the same time.

Sadly, it may be too late. The days when creaking doors and fluttering curtains sent a shiver up our spines are gone. Recently, The Blair Witch Project and even The Ring sent tremors of panic through movie-going audiences, but with live feeds from cities being bombed out of existence and grisly murders leading off every nightly news broadcast, with our own safety in constant question in the face of terrorism or even at the hands of some sketchy street crawler, how does Hollywood even have a prayer?

Here's one person who hopes the days of an innocent scare at the theater aren't gone forever.

• Jon Schnaars