In this blog post, focusing on the ‘Insidious’ series, ‘Paranormal Activity’, and ‘Two Moons’, I’d like to discuss the characteristics of house horror—where the familiar space of the home transforms into a place of terror—as well as the patriarch’s powerlessness and recovery, and the potential of Korean-style house horror films.
Why I’m Drawn to House Horror
While I generally enjoy watching any movie regardless of genre, it’s rare for me to become wildly enthusiastic about one or for that enthusiasm to extend to an interest in its production. I’m particularly fond of fantasy and sci-fi films, but just as much as I love ‘The Lord of the Rings’ or the ‘X-Men’ series, I never feel the urge to make films like them myself. Some might argue, “Don’t you really like them?” but that’s not the case. It simply stops at “enjoyment.” In that sense, the three films mentioned above are the ones that inspire me—they spark a deep interest in filmmaking.
I’ve actually experienced many paranormal phenomena since I was a child. Of course, they weren’t things like doors opening on their own or hearing footsteps, as seen in movies, but I’ve occasionally seen ghosts and, in extreme cases, even experienced out-of-body experiences. Perhaps that’s why. I have a deep interest in what lies beyond the series of experiences I’ve had—namely, death (commonly referred to as the afterlife) or some “world” that transcends space and time (a place beyond the reach of reality). Although I haven’t experienced anything like that recently, when I watch movies or read news reports, I see that such phenomena sometimes lie dormant only to reappear rarely, so perhaps I should be careful too!
That’s probably why I’m even more drawn to movies that deal with these paranormal phenomena. Of course, not everyone who seeks out this genre has had the same experiences as I have, but perhaps they’re motivated by similar reasons? After all, people will die someday, and since we don’t know what lies beyond the threshold of death, a deep-seated desire to understand the existence or world on the other side—in the face of that vague anxiety—is rooted deep within our hearts. That’s why, even while we fear the unknown and mysterious, we remain curious about it. The key here is “the unknown.” That’s why, even though we know we shouldn’t, we try to dig deeper, see it, and feel it. The core of horror stems entirely from these elements.
The setting is always an ordinary “house”—the very place we live, our living space. Of course, a two-story house with a wooden staircase is even better. If there’s an alarm clock in the stairwell, it couldn’t be more perfect. The means of instilling fear are also very simple. All it takes is for a closed door to open on its own, for the piano in the living room to start playing by itself, or for the sound of footsteps to echo from the ceiling. That alone is enough to make people feel extreme anxiety. Why?
While movies like ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ may seem like unrealistic horror to us, “this” kind of horror is anything but! Isn’t this something that could easily happen—without a single sound—to you, who must spend the night alone right now? In this place where you’ve always lived your daily life, there exists “it”—something you don’t know, whose very origin is unknown—lurking around you. And it harbors malicious intent toward you. This entity is even a transcendent being you cannot defeat. In some ways, this is even more terrifying than a murderer chasing you with a knife.
Ordinary objects transform into objects of fear, and familiar spaces feel alien. Fear expands into the very space where you live. That is precisely the greatest appeal of “house horror.”
The Helpless Head of the Household and the Transcendent Entity
The head of the household must acknowledge his own helplessness.
As is true in most horror movies, the only common trait among the survivors is that they “acknowledge their own helplessness and struggle desperately to stay alive.” The key here is acknowledging that helplessness. Among the characters who confront a being that is neither human nor ghost, those who assert their patriarchal authority—such as Mika from ‘Paranormal Activity’ or Seok-ho from ‘Two Moons’—almost always end up suffering a brutal punishment. Approaches such as “It’s my house,” “I’m the head of the household,” or “I’m a man, so I’ll handle this” never work against these transcendent beings; on the contrary, they often backfire.
Yet they are reluctant to admit it. The heads of households try to deny that they are powerless to resolve anything. And that is what invites disaster. The head of the household is, by definition, the person who holds the highest position in the family, leading the household and possessing the status to do so; yet, in the face of supernatural phenomena, this becomes a completely useless, insurmountable force. They are powerless.
They must acknowledge that they need to rely on others. Only then can the story hold together and they can survive. This is why problem-solvers—known by various names such as exorcists, psychics, and priests—appear in these stories. Here, the problem-solver surpasses the head of the household.
Certain irresistible supernatural phenomena that the head of the household cannot resolve must be addressed through religious or “spiritual” means. However, this is by no means something tangible or based on established science; perhaps the psychological aspect plays a greater role. Of course, those who are skeptical of such realms may not agree with this narrative and might even scoff at it. Consequently, they are left feeling frustrated, unable to come up with any independent solutions to the phenomena that have befallen them.
Here, the audience experiences a kind of catharsis. Audiences raised under the belief that “the head of the household is supreme” will constantly ask themselves, “Will I, and my father, be just as powerless as that?” and will always arrive at the vague conclusion that “yes, we will.” This is likely why most films in the house horror genre end with an unsettling conclusion—one that, while not offering complete resolution, merely resolves the immediate phenomenon at hand. It’s because they can do nothing more than instill a small sense of reassurance within the continuity of life regarding a fear of unknown origin that even the film itself cannot definitively resolve.
The Restoration of Patriarchy and the Twist in ‘Insidious’
If ‘Paranormal Activity’ is a prime example of the house horror genre mentioned earlier, the ‘Insidious’ series is slightly different. This series reduces the motif of the “helpless patriarch” to a source of horror—and then restores the patriarch’s authority. This is where the twist on the house horror genre emerges.
“Insidious” is a film that’s unique—if you will—in that it combines the “out-of-body experience” trope with the house horror genre. In this film, the father, “Josh,” sets out in the first installment to confront supernatural phenomena and find his son’s soul; after saving his son, his body is possessed, and he becomes the very source of terror threatening his family. However, in the second installment, he returns to his role as a father and is the one who resolves all the supernatural occurrences.
He no longer remains a “helpless” head of the household; instead, he transforms from an authoritarian figure who instills fear in his family into a father who ultimately saves his son and wife and restores peace to the household. Of course, another spirit (a malevolent medium) intervenes along the way, but since he ultimately brings about a resolution, this can be seen as the restoration of patriarchal authority.
The horror revealed through the “defamiliarization” of the familiar space known as “home.” At the end of this process lies the “father” and the “head of the household”—the very embodiment of “home”—and I suspect that the horror reaches its peak precisely when these figures feel the most “alien.”
The Potential of the Korean-Style House Horror Film ‘Two Moons’
‘Two Moons’, which I saw in theaters last summer, is also a horror film belonging to the house horror genre. Having watched other Korean horror films like the ‘High School Ghost Story’ series, I had often thought that the future of the Korean horror genre looked bleak. I wondered, “Is it really impossible to produce anything this original in the horror genre?” However, after watching ‘Two Moons’, my perspective shifted somewhat. It is entirely possible. It is entirely possible to deliver a fresh kind of horror. That was my conclusion.
If you watch ‘Insidious’, you can see that, like many other horror films, it was made on a low budget. A single space—the house—serves as nearly the entire location. While zombie movies are also a low-budget genre, they require even fewer resources than house horror. This is because they require a large cast and multiple locations. The film is driven by the characters’ psychology and the unfolding of the plot. This doesn’t incur much additional cost. There’s no need for Hollywood-style action or CGI. Just bizarre rumors and incidents tied to a specific “house”—that’s all there is to it. That’s all you need. That’s why it’s competitive.
‘Two Moons’ centers on a certain “house” where ghosts gather. The area around the house is entirely surrounded by woods and barbed wire, and everything takes place exclusively within the “house.” There is only one entrance and one exit—that house itself. The one slight difference is that the house is an unfamiliar space—it belongs to none of the three men and women! However, I see a variation in the way the space—one where they repeatedly wake up, a space they’ve grown accustomed to—is perceived as unfamiliar. Although it isn’t a two-story house, the story features well-utilized pathways and events that make good use of the house’s layout.
Three men and women, with no connection to one another, are attacked inside the house by a murderer without knowing why. They die while trying to escape, but keep coming back to life. As time passes, the secret of the “house” in the afterlife—a world with two moons—is revealed, and the story takes a turn when a twist is unveiled: everyone except the protagonist—who had entered the house where the murders occurred to investigate ghosts—was actually a “ghost.”
Unsurprisingly, the patriarchal character “Seok-ho” appears, but upon realizing he is a ghost, he transforms into a menacing presence. As a result, the protagonist—who believed he was safe—is pushed to the absolute limit. True to form, the ending betrays the audience by offering no resolution whatsoever.
I believe this was a fresh attempt that fully embraced the archetype of “house horror”—where the house feels as though it’s alive—while cleverly twisting the narrative within it. Although it was a box-office flop, I believe I saw the potential for a Korean-style house horror film in this movie. It made me realize that even without a large budget, or racking one’s brains to come up with a completely new screenplay—simply by fully understanding the genre’s characteristics, adapting them well, and shooting it lightly on a low budget—it’s possible to create a good film that captures the attention of many people.
The Appeal of a Genre That Captures Everyday Fears
The “house horror” genre is incredibly compelling. Of course, even though director James Wan’s ‘Insidious’ and ‘The Conjuring’ have been criticized for being similar, they’re never overlooked—likely because this genre doesn’t rely on fleeting trends but taps into people’s enduring interest in the everyday fears that will never disappear.
Even if you don’t believe in demons or paranormal phenomena, it still feels logically plausible and creeps right up to the tips of your fingers, instilling fear in us. The reason I want to try making a film in this genre is partly because I want to convey the everyday fears I’ve experienced in the past, but the biggest reason is probably my desire to share that deep, inner, invisible, and inexplicable “anxiety” that lies within us all.
