The Art of Terror

by Paul Dellevigne

I was late to the whole Terrifier party, if you want to call it that. I had a vague knowledge that the movie existed, but never came upon it or really felt the need to seek it out. I just let it hang out in the back of my mind as what was presumably a very low-budget slasher. It wasn’t until I started hearing reports of people getting sick at screenings of Terrifier 2 that I started to become intrigued. First of all, I was somewhat surprised there was a sequel. Second of all, how could a movie so clearly low-budget have special effects good enough to make people sick? I was officially intrigued. I found out that the first film was available on Tubi and watched it as soon as I could.

I was blown away. As soon as it was over I watched All Hallow’s Eve, the first film to feature Art the Clown. I almost liked that one even more. Somehow the slightly stilted acting made the whole nightmare feel even more real. I was hooked. I hadn’t been that frightened or disturbed by a horror movie in ages. I spent the next few weeks telling everyone who would listen about Terrifier.

Obviously, not everyone was in concert with my opinions. I had one coworker fly into an expletive-laden rant about how he considered it to be “the most misogynistic movie I’ve ever seen.” I couldn’t argue with him. It certainly featured one of the most shocking scenes I’ve ever seen (more on that later), but at the same time I was surprised as a horror fan that he didn’t appreciate the, well, the horror of it all.

It wasn’t until a few months later that I had to genuinely reconsider my relationship with the Terrifier movies. After weeks of me mentioning to this site’s co-editor how they absolutely had to watch at least the first film, JJ came to my bar one night to tell me that they had. 

“Well, what did you think?” I asked excitedly, certain that they of all people would share my appreciation.

I was wrong.

“I guess it’s not my kind of thing,” they said.

I was crestfallen.ⁱ Was I in the wrong? Did my enjoyment of this movie mean something was broken deep within me? I pushed them to elaborate, and what they said completely threw me. “I just can’t fathom the idea of people rooting for that monster” they said. I stopped what I was doing and just looked at them, dumbfounded.

“Who would ever do that?” I responded. I genuinely could not fathom that people would watch these movies and root for what was, in my opinion, the most (pardon my choice of words) terrifying monster I’d seen in the movies in decades. It dawned on me that the reason I had become so hooked on these movies, what I “liked” most about them, was in fact the complete and total unlikeability of the character Art the Clown. 

It wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, horror villains were never meant to be idolized. When we think back on the first time we laid eyes on them—Freddy with his unnaturally long arms scratching the walls of the alley, Michael staring from behind the fresh linens—there was no sense of mirth or coolness. There was fear and dread. Freddy Kreuger was a killer of children, for Christ’s sake. And Michael Meyers was simply a monster. Pure evil, as his doctor put it. No rhyme or reason to it, he existed simply to kill. Even Norman Bates, as charming and demure as he is throughout the bulk of Psycho, in the final shot is revealed to be what he truly is—something evil, something to fear.

Leatherface remained disturbing all the way up to “Do your thing cuz!”

But then, even the shark from Jaws became laughable by the third movie.ⁱⁱ Perhaps it’s inevitable. Maybe by Terrifier 4 we’ll also be laughing as Art claims victim after victim. Maybe it will be the only reaction we have left after watching him flay too many people. But until then, he remains, to me, the single most terrifying character in the movies today. Why? 

Because of The Scene.

If you’ve seen Terrifier, you know what scene I’m referring to. It’s the same one that made my co-worker stop watching. I almost stopped watching myself, if I’m honest. I thought about similar scenes in other movies that did in fact repulse me so much that I turned the movie off. The broken bottle scene in New York Ripper jumps to mind, or the knife to the vagina in Mother of Tears.

But there was a difference in Terrifier. The difference, to me, is that where the killers in New York Ripper and Mother of Tears performed brutality out of sheer fetishistic aggression and impulse, Art knows he has an audience. Thus his horrific act becomes even more disturbing, because he is specifically performing for someone, making it torturously clear to Tara what he is capable of. He is fully aware of the traumatic effect his act will have on her. His actions are not just to repulse, they are to terrify, and they do. They terrify us as much as they terrify the character bearing witness.ⁱⁱⁱ And all the while, he laughs that silent, morbid laugh. That silent laugh is the antithesis of Freddy’s increasingly sophomoric quips.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about it. My goal isn’t to make you like Terrifier. It is an incredibly visceral, polarizing film. I just know that whatever your reaction to the film ends up being, I’m pretty sure Art the Clown isn’t trying to make you laugh.

Yet.

ⁱ On Paul, this looks a lot like disapproval, or like you are maybe cut off for the night. —ed.

ⁱⁱ We maintain that the scene where a marine biologist tries to revive an unconscious shark by walking it in circles around a shallow tank is unbearably frightening. That it turns out to be Jaws Jr., and a much bigger Mama Jaws is out there in the park, extra pissed now that they’re messing with her boy, is enough to make a 3D SeaWorld monster movie starring Dennis Quaid scary. —ed.

ⁱⁱⁱ All those moments where Art shrugs at the camera extend his audience: I see you there watching this, you fucking sicko. Let’s see if you like this next bit. Cue That Scene: The Sequel, the bedroom torture set piece that launched a thousand pukes. —ed.

Paul Dellevigne studied film at Temple University before getting caught up in bureaucracy and the service industry. He fronted Philadelphia band The Sinners for 10 years and was a contributor to bizarre Christmas band The Hot Buttered Elves for multiple decades. He is now old.