HOW TO BE AFRAID CORRECTLY: A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO HORROR FOR PEOPLE WHO THINK THEY’RE ABOVE IT
Look, the problem isn’t that you hate horror movies, it’s that you think horror movies hate you.
You think it’s all jump scares and entrails; punishment, not entertainment. And sure, there’s plenty of splatter out there to haunt a dream, but this kind of POV on horror movies is like letting one ghost pepper you ate on a dare during Spring Break in between tequila shooters ruin your experience with food.
Horror’s a big, greasy, glorious country, you just got off at the wrong exit—I’m here to help.
This isn’t a syllabus, it’s an acclimation program: Five tiers of fear tolerance, escalating from ‘spooky but safe’ to ‘please don’t text me after this’. No gatekeeping. If something speaks to you, follow it, but if it spikes your heart rate for the wrong reason, bail to any of the fallback titles and take a breath.
You’re not being thrown into the deep end, you’re being coached into the dark, one well-lit step at a time.
TIER ONE: LIGHTS ON
For horror skeptics , the ones who flinch at trailers and think the Monster Mash ‘goes kinda hard’
The kiddie pool of horror—a ‘shallow deep’ where haunts have union breaks and nobody bleeds without consent. These movies don’t want to hurt you, they just want to hang out with you uncomfortably and show you alternative inspirations for interior decor.
Start with Beetlejuice (1988) — Afterlife as ‘the grind’. Alec Baldwin in khakis (scary), Geena Davis in pastel (not scary). The scariest thing is all the post-modernism.
Then meet The Addams Family (1991) — Plot? Who cares. It’s affectionate morbidity doing bits. And Wednesday is a blueprint for all gifted kids gone goth.
Next up, call the Ghostbusters (1984) — Paranormal exterminators running an unlicensed small business; fright meter is in OSHA violations per minute: infinite.
Finally, bunk up with What We Do in the Shadows (2014) — Vampire roomies! Centuries of petty resentment, passive-aggressive fang care, and the scariest thing is if there’s no rent control.
If this tier feels too spicy: Go watch The Muppets Haunted Mansion (2021) where everyone sings and no one dies (unless it’s a gag).
TIER TWO: THE GATEWAY DRUGS
For those that want to flirt with horror but sleep at their own apartment after
Don’t get scared, get seduced. This is where horror makes prolonged eye contact from across the room, and you learn that the genre doesn’t need to be loud to get your attention. It just has to whisper its curse in Dolby Surround Sound.
Start by letting out a Scream (1996) — The slasher that hands you a study guide for itself. Everyone’s hot, everyone’s meta, and someone dies every time you start to get comfy.
Then tap into The Sixth Sense (1999) — World’s favorite prestige ghost story and the likely reason memes exist. It’s about communication breakdown, avoidance of psychological well-being, and, well, environmental awareness.
Next, play main character with The Others (2001) — Nicole Kidman vs. fog. The house is the villain and also a very. Dope. Fit.
Climb to the top of Crimson Peak (2015) — Del Toro’s operatic love letter to bad husbands. Every frame looks like it’s been moisturized with blood.
Finally, Shaun of the Dead (2004) — Like jokes with your scares? The only zombie movie that’s just about friendship. You’ll scream, then laugh, then go meet the lads for a pint.
If this tier feels too spicy: Watch The Frighteners (1996) — Peter Jackson’s pre-LOTR paranormal goofball conman comedy, with Jeffrey Coombs screen-chewing CGI-laden scenery as a human migraine headache with the world’s worst fade.
TIER THREE: THE FIRST REAL TEST
For people who’ve finally stopped flinching at jump scares and started asking follow-up questions
Welcome to the therapy wing of the haunted mansio. These aren’t movies you ‘watch’, but movies that diagnose you with untreatable obsessive-compulsive paranoid delusional horror fandom.
Go in on Get Out (2017) — It’s the rare horror film that can make you laugh, shudder, startle, and text an apology to all your Black friends—before the credits even roll.
Then get led by It Follows (2014) — The most effective PSA for boundaries since abstinence education failed. You’ll never look at a long tracking shot the same way ever again.
Next, it’s, uh… the uh… The Babadook (2014), yeah — A mother, a son, and a children’s book with teeth. The monster isn’t in the house, it is the house (and it wants to talk about attachment styles).
After that, walk softly into A Quiet Place (2018) — A film that dares to ask, ‘What if parenting was worse?’ It’s not about an alien invasion, it’s about trying not to scream in Target.
Finish with a spell cast by The Witch (2015) — A slow, grim purge of shame and Puritanism where the punchline is self-actualization and the goat always wins (i.e. the goat is the G.O.A.T.).
If this tier feels too spicy: Try The Invitation (2015) — Dinner-party dread for people who fear RSVP-ing more than death.
TIER FOUR: NO TURNING BACK
For the unhinged who now describe horror movies as ‘vibes’ and think blood spatter has compositional value
This is your grad program. These aren’t popcorn flicks, these are spiritual audits with practical effects. You’re here because you’ve stopped incanting “it’s just a movie” and started lamenting “that CGI gore just isn’t doing it for me.”
Get familiar with Hereditary (2018) — There are decapitations, séances, and that one clicking sound that will ruin your nights. It’s less a movie than a generational curse that killed at Sundance. Also, Toni Collette invents a new screaming frequency.
Make The Thing (1982) your new thing — Antarctica, masculinity, goo. Every frame is a trust issue and the ending is just two grown men realizing adult friendship is impossible. Long live flamethrowers!
Watch The Fly (1986) and take off — Jeff Goldblum proves love can mutate, and so can you! A slow transformation from scientist to metaphor for bad relationships. Equal parts tragic and, uh…wet.
Glow up with The Shining (1980) — Is this just couple’s therapy with ghosts? Kubrick turned cabin fever into a tesseract and Jack Nicholson into a walking Reddit thread about ‘grindset mentality’.
Last, get weird with Suspiria (1977) — Color, sound, murder, repeat. It’s like if Technicolor and psychosis had a baby and sent it to boarding school in hell.
If this tier feels too spicy: Try The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016) — Small-scale horror for people who prefer their dread tidy and monsters pretty.
TIER FIVE: ENTER THE VOID
For the sleepless elite—the ones who stare into the abyss and start taking notes and use ‘elevated’ like a threat
Not ‘scary’ movies so much as ‘decimating’ movies, so welcome to the open sea. These don’t end, per se, but they do dissolve, quietly, rearranging your soul into new moral configurations.
Get taken by Possession (1981) — A marital breakdown shot like an exorcism. Isabelle Adjani gives the kind of performance that makes you worry for everyone on set. Half domestic tragedy, half metaphysical crisis, all screaming.
Next, take a dip in Lake Mungo (2008) — You’ll be waiting for something to jump out. It won’t. But that’s the point. It’s the quietest horror movie that’s ever ruined my life.
Step into The House That Jack Built (2018) — Lars von Trier’s five-act confession. It’s art about art about cruelty about art about serial murder. Stay hydrated.
After that, come see Come and See (1985) — OK, not technically horror, just the reason horror exists. War is like a hallucination, and childhood is collateral damage.
Finish by putting on Threads (1984) — OK, not necessarily classifiable horror either, just nuclear annihilation narrated like a weather report. It’s British stoicism and the worst kind of realism: plausible.
If this tier feels too spicy: Try The Vanishing (1988) — No monsters, no jump scares. Just the suffocating realization that you might have to die to get closure.
TIER FIVE-POINT-FIVE: THE UNAUTHORIZED ZONE
For the now spiritually compromised ; the ones who say ‘Western horror feels a little safe’
Well, now you’re beyond the wall, and I can’t protect you here. The ghosts don’t haunt, they network.
If you must, Tetsuo: The Iron Man (Japan, 1989) — Imagine if David Cronenberg made a Nine Inch Nails video and blacked out halfway through.
Then, if you can possibly stand it, Cure (Japan, 1997) — You’ll start to wonder if you were hypnotized into watching it, and you’ll never quite be sure the answer’s no.
You’re still here? Pulse / Kairo (Japan, 2001) — The dead want broadband. This is like someone turned Y2K anxiety into a séance and never logged off.
No. Stop. Don’t. Not A Tale of Two Sisters (Korea, 2003) — Good grief. Great wallpaper.
If there’s anything left in you, Noroi: The Curse (Japan, 2005) — This found footage feels a little too found.
The Wailing (Korea, 2016) if you’re still upright — Faith vs. folklore. Cops, priests, shamans all arguing with the devil while the world molds around them. Makes doubt feel like an action set piece.
If this tier feels too scary: Dude, just get high and watch Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island (1998). It’s got ghosts, it’s got sandwiches, and nobody needs therapy.
POST-MORTEM: WHY WE DO THIS
If you made it this far, congrats! You just completed cardio for your amygdala. No trophies, just a calmer pulse and a slightly weirder smile.
But here’s the point: horror movies are practice—for uncertainty, for empathy, for sitting with the unsolvable and still eating popcorn. Some nights you’ll want a gentle haunt and a blood pressure check. Other nights you’ll want to stare so hard into the abyss until the abyss turns on the lights and asks you to keep it down.
Both are fine. Your guidelines going forward:
Start where it’s warm.
Use the exits. (Fallbacks aren’t failure; they’re design.)
Chase the flavor, not the flex.
Listen to your body, then your friends, then maybe the goat.
So after you log a tier, take a lap around the living room, text someone a heart emoji, sing your favorite Taylor Swift song. If tomorrow feels louder than usual, go lighter. If tomorrow feels interesting, go deeper.
Being afraid correctly isn’t about surviving the movie. It’s about noticing you’re fully there when the credits roll.
#JournalOfFearManagement #ProceedingsOfTheHorrificArts #EmotionalMaintenanceDept #FearAsMethod #AppliedScreams #PublicTherapyForTheDamned #TheologyOfGoats #OverthinkOrDieTrying