Physical violence: The horror movies which are fully evaporated with fighting are a majorcause of physical violence.2. Emotional damage: Horror movies, according to the findings of the researcher, have theelements of emotional disturbance children watching such movies can be emotionally sick.3. Psychological damage: Watching horror movies damages the psychological health ofyoung people. They become victims of different behavioral and psychological disorders.

Favorite type of Movie

Horror movies can produce nightmare in children. Youshould protect your kids by watching scary films; there is not only one reason of harm but many.

serious case ofanxiety in teens and even pre-teens

being observed among youththese days. That is why the researcher selected this topic for study.

Irem Sultana * Arshad Ali † Ifra Iftikhar

Just one year after presenting the first movie to the world in 1895. A French made a horrormovie in 1896.it was short and sweet, not scary. After that, America followed this trend and mademovies. After the First World War, German-made Horror movies with a cheap budget, betterstory and more creativity, strong social impact. Horror movies had to focus on style in 1920. Morerealistic monsters with a bigger budget and fancier sets and many characters were introduced in1930. After the Atom bomb trend of horror movies was changed into fighting. Earlier horrormovies were black and white and without any special effect. After that, a disturbing image wasadded in horror movies. After watching these horror movies, some people institutionalized inpsychiatric wards.

Human minds are very strong, and it tends to remember each and everything if watched withinterest. And movies are mostly watched with great interest, so they affect human minds, andsometimes we do feel that we are related to some character and do play it at least for the day wehave watched the movie. (Veena Sharma 2012)

t is observedthat watching Horror Movies cause long-lasting effects on young kids like nervousness, escapism,fascination, Nightmares

Not everybody enjoys horror fiction, however, and apreference for seeking out scary entertainment appears to begreater in adolescence, the period where especially boys areprone to risk-taking “show-off” behavior (cf. Kruger andNesse). That, at least, would go some way toward explain-ing social horror rituals like cinema screenings.

Consider the Kali-monster in Dan Simmons’ Songof Kali, which “crouched on six limbs like some huge andhairless spider,’ and whose impossibly long tongue slidesout “like a questing serpent” (202). And in Blatty’s TheExorcist, possessed Regan descends a staircase: “Gliding spi-derlike, rapidly, close behind [her mother], her body archedbackward in a bow with her head almost touching herfeet ... her tongue flicking quickly in and out of her mouthwhile she hissed sibilantly like a serpent”

ambiguous, as it is, for example, isShirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, when it is notwitnessed at all, as in The Blair Witch Project, or when somesort of supernatural, homicidal agency is just intimated, asin the Final Destination series. The monster is of coursethreatening but also “impure” (Carroll, Philosophy 42-43).Very often it is disgusting as well as frightening.

car-phobia is virtually nonexistent.

Fear is a human universal, one of the basic emotions, uni-versally recognizable in facial expression; and it has a distinctphysiological signature.

Freudian horror study claims a mostly unwarrantedcrypto-sexual, perverse dimension to the genre. For example,Elaine Showalter reads Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hydeas a “fable of fin-de-siécle homosexual panic, the discoveryand resistance of the homosexual self” (107). This, surely, isa historicist-psychosexual reading gone utterly berserk. Toanyone but a high-strung Freudian critic, would the factthat Hyde travels in “chocolate-brown fog” be “suggestiveof anality and anal intercourse”

he claimed that horror “hasalways existed, and always will exist”

not only inadequate but also false, simplybecause orthodox psychoanalytical theory has not been borneout by scientific investigation.

the horror-tale is as old as humanthought and speech themselves.”

Horror is not, exactly, a social or cultural construc-tion, but rather a predictable product of an evolved humannature. Horror is what happens when Homo sapiens meetsthe world; it is a “‘natural” genre, not the chance product ofan unusual mind or a specific set of cultural circumstances.

Even as horror is not defined according to contentbut rather affectively (in terms of intended audience reac-tion), a limited stock of situations and characters makesup most horror stories. As the historian David J. Skal hasobserved, “very little about the underlying structure of hor-ror images really changes, though our cultural uses for themare... shape-changing”

unveiling the culturalor subconscious fears and anxieties which have metamor-phosed into monsters. A purely constructivist account ofhorror fiction cannot explain why horror fiction generallytravels well in space—why Western teenagers are scared wit-less by Japanese and Korean horror movies, for instance.

vast hordes ofpeople read books and go to movies designed specifically tocreate simulations of such experiences. Why? Most theoristsof film and literature have tried to answer this question byappealing to Freudian psychoanalysis, cultural contexts, orboth. They have on the whole invoked obsolete models ofthe human mind and neglected evolutionary findings onhuman nature.

recent ex-perience of the collapse of the conceptual fixi-ties, or more aptly, the presuppositionsof PaxAmericana. In this respect, the currentascen-dancy of the genre of horrormay be the masspopular expression of the same anxiety con-cerning criteriathat preoccupies the more eso-teric forms of postmodernism

outside culturalcategories and is, perforce, unknown.(4) Finally, we began by noting that we arein the midst of a period in which art-horrorisone of the major avenues of mass aestheticstimulation.Thus, it would be interestingif ourtheory of art-horrorcould contribute to ourunderstandingof why at presentthe fascinationwith horroris so unquenchabl

our dependence on thoughts appearsmore pal-atable than the postulationof pretendemotionsor audience beliefs in vampires.

We are not really horrified,for we know Dracula is nonexistent, but wepretendto be horrified.

Douglas's observations, then, may helpdispell some of the fuzziness of the impurityclause of our definition of art-horror.They canbe used to supply paradigmaticexamples forour applicationof the impurityclause as well asa roughguiding principlefor isolating impurity,viz., that of categorical transgressio

are not classifiableaccordingto our standardcategorie

Undoubtedly, the use of "impure" in ourdefinition will strike some as too vague. Butperhapswe can relieve some of those anxietiesconcerning vagueness by saying somethingabout the kinds of objects that standardlygiverise to, or cause, reactions of impurity

My muscles going limpcould be associatedwith many emotional states;what makes my emotional state fear in this caseare my beliefs. That is, cognitive states differ-entiate one emotion from anotherthough for astate to be an emotional one there must also besome kind of physical agitation that has beenengenderedby the presiding cognitive state

specific emotionalstate one is in is not determinedby the kinds ofphysical agitationsone is suffering

Just before the monsterisvisualized to the audience, we often see thecharacter shudder in disbelief, responding tothis violation of nature. Their faces contort.They freeze in a moment of recoil, transfixed,sometimes paralyzed. They start. Their handsare drawn toward their bodies in an act ofprotection but also of revulsion and disgus

That the audience's emotional response ismodeled on that of charactersprovides us witha useful methodological advantagein analyzingthe emotion of art-horror.It suggests a way inwhich we can formulate an objective, as op-posed to an introspective, picture of the emo-tion of horro

A creaturelike Chewbacca in thespace opera Star Wars is just one of the guys,though a creature made up in the same wolfoutfit, in a film like The Howling, would beregardedwith utterrevulsion by the humans inthat film. In examples of horror, it wouldappear that the monster is an extraordinarycharacter in our ordinary world, whereas infairy tales and the like the monster is anordinarycharacterin an extraordinaryworld

But the genres thatare named by the very affect they are designedto provoke suggest a very tantalizing strategythroughwhich to pursue their analysis

refer to theproduct of a genre that crystallized roughlyaround the time of the publication of MaryShelley's Frankensteinand that has continued,often cyclically, to persist through the novelsand plays of the nineteenth century and theliteratureand films of the twentieth

art-horror.It is differ-ent from the sort of horror one expresses insaying "I am horrified by the prospect ofecological disaster" or "Terrorist acts arehorrifying." Call the latter usage of "horror"natural horror.

spawningvampires, trolls, gremlins, zombies, were-wolves, demonically possessed children, spacemonstersof all sizes, ghosts, and other unname-able concoctions at a pace thathas made the lastdecade or so seem like one long Halloweennight.

horror has flourished as amajor source of mass aesthetic stimulation.Horrornovels seem available in virtuallyeverysupermarketand pharmacy, and new titles ap-pearwith unnervingrapidity

Of course, why any particular individual enjoys feeling fear, and anotherdoesn't, or why some horror films are enjoyable and others not, is an interest-ing and no doubt complex matter. But it is the proper subject of empirical,psychological investigation and it would be unproductive to engage in arm-chair speculation about why this is so. What I have shown here is that thisempirical investigation is possible. For I have argued that there is no a priori,conceptual problem about the enjoyment of negative emotions in real life, orin fiction. There is no paradox of horror

The paradox seems to arise only becausewe construe the negativity in terms of these emotions being intrinsicallyunpleasant, whereas we should really construe their negativity in terms of thefact that the emotions essentially incorporate negative evaluation

This itself might seem a paradoxical result, but it is not. It is, in fact, aperfectly familiar result of holistic theories about the mental. The position Idefend here does not assume, or entail, the truth of functionalism. But likefunctionalism it is a holistic view, and functionalists similarly define mentalstates by means of a 'typically' operator, in order to respect the holism of themental.

The latter are helped by the fact that they know the film is fictionaland that neither they nor the actors depicted are in real danger.

So the evaluative theory of the emotions is not susceptible to the counter-example based on the unintelligibility of the tribal people who feel sorrow,yet find the emotion pleasant. For, we can note that the emotion concernedis not typically unpleasant for them, and therefore is not sorrow. But havewe not now reproduced the paradox of horror, by showing that one cannotfeel fear, and hence evaluate something as threatening, without experiencingthe emotion as unpleasant?

find the idea of the desiredthing pleasa.nt, makes the connection too strong, for one may, for instance,do one's duty without enjoyment.

having a motivatingreason (a desire, in the broad sense in which philosophers use that term)and finding something pleasant. Hedonists try to capture this connection byclaiming that the only thing desired for its own sake is pleasure

Internalists about evaluation hold that there is a necessary connectionbetween judging a situation to be good and having a motivating reason tobring it about (the reason need be only prima facie, and so may be overridenby other, conflicting reasons).

But he does not see in his book that the 'abnormal,physically felt agitation' (p. 27), which he requires for fear to be present, neednot be an intrinsically unpleasant state, for the negativity of the emotion canbe explained in terms of the object of the emotion being negatively evaluated,rather than the emotion itself being unpleasant. Indeed, Carroll himself arguesthat what the agitation feels like can vary massively from person to personand from time to time in one person, so it is doubly puzzling why he assumesthat the agitation must be experienced as unpleasant

nothing paradoxical about the enjoyment of negative emotions,for it is only required that one disvalue the objects of these emotio

Now, if the emotions are to beindividuated by the evaluations, then the difference between 'positive' and.'negative' emotions must consist in the difference between the evaluativethoughts

we can dissolve the paradox bydisputing Hume's analysis of the emotions. In fact, as I will now argue, thecorrect view of the emotions entails that negative emotions are such, not inrespect of unpleasant feelings, nor even in respect of the unpleasantness oftheir objects, but, rather, in respect of the negative evaluative thoughts theyincorporate

This move would allow us to counter the objection I raised about thedispositionality of the unpleasant. Hence we could allow that when peopleare enjoying negative emotions it is not because they regard the objects of theemotions as unpleasant, even though they enjoy the emotions, but becausethey regard the objects of the emotions as undesirable, and to believe thatsomething is undesirable, is not ipso facto to find it unpleasan

Neilltries to counter his objection in a footnote by claiming that the unpleasantnessmay be in the situation itself rather than in the feelings I have towards theobject. He gives the example of pity, which is an emotion directed towardsothers' suffering. So the painfulness figures here as something which thepeople whom I pity suffer, rather than as something which I experience.

We would, I take it,be justifiably reluctant to translate the word they used to name this emotionas 'grief.

aren't painful in the way that stepping on a thumb-tack is. Instead, hesays, 'In describing an emotion as "painful" or "negative" or "unpleasant", Isuggest, we are in fact saying something about the situations in response towhich we typically experience those emotion

it is the objects of the emotions which areunpleasant or disvaluable

People vary greatly and unpredictably as towhether or not they enjoy horror films. If Morag does not enjoy them, thatneed not be because she cannot adequately control her attention with respectto them. Rather, her reason for not enjoying the film is that when she doesdirect her attention to the bloody corpse, she does not like what she experi-ences. Conversely, Norman may believe that the very height of enjoyablefear is when his gaze is riveted to the gruesome spectacle, when he 'cannottake his eyes off the unfolding carnag

one's negative emotionsbecome too strong, then one will not enjoy the emotions.

It is peculiarly easy to enjoy negative emotions in the case of fiction,since the fiction has no practical consequences for its audienc

Morreall holds that one canenjoy negative emotions when one is 'in control' of the situation which pro-duces the emotions, where control is understood in terms of an ability todirect one's thoughts and actions

Hence, theobjection continues, such cases are misdescribed, and what is enjoyed in themis something other than the presence of a negative emotion. For instance,Susan Feagin in her critique of Carroll's solution to the paradox discussesseveral examples, including the roller-coaster case, of the enjoyment of nega-tive emotions and their associated sensations.

ikewise, it is possible to relish afeeling of quiet melancholy, dwelling on the sorrows and disappointments oflife, and weeping for the sadness of the world

She enjoys putting herself intodangerous situations, feeling the thrill of fear as she dangles over the edge,knowing that it is only her skill and equipment that save her from certaindeath. She finds life simpler, more elemental in such situations, her fear givesan acuteness and 'edge' to her experience that is lacking in everyday life. Sheappreciates many aspects of the experience, and her fear is an inextricable partof the composite whole which she enjoys

horror attracts becausepeople can enjoy being scared and disgusted. This thesis has the merit ofsimplicity, and it accounts for the intelligibility of Norman's complaint. Itcan also explain a salient fact about horror, of which it is easy to lose sight.The genre has as its self-conscious aim the production of fear and disgust inits audience, and it has become increasingly sophisticated and successful inachieving this effect.

Interpretations of horror fictions as expressing covertsexual fears, or fear of death and the physicality of the body, or of loss ofsexual identity, are legion, and are, in many cases, quite plausible.

Finally, if the expressivist doctrinewere correct, we should expect to dislike the arousal of our emotion of fearwhen watching a film, and then only start to enjoy ourselves when the emo-tion was dissipated at the end of the film, assuming that it has an end thatdid not further enhance our fear.

Ifwe are attracted to horror for its cathartic effect, so that watching a horrorfilm is the equivalent of 'talking out' one's fears, it is odd that these films areleast attractive if one is in an uneasy or fearful mood. One doesn't say 'I'mscared, so I think I'll go to see a horror film'. Rather, one needs to be in afairly robust psychological state in order to enjoy these fictions at al

powerfully metaphorical form

, but,rather, we enjoy the expression of these emotions, by which we relieve our-selves of them, or lighten the grip they have on us

We are back to the core of the paradox ofhorror again: people seem to enjoy experiencing negative emotions.

believe thatour curiosity could very often be sufficiently stimulated to overcome thepurported disadvantages such works incur in producing disagreeable emo-tional states in us. The conventions of genre weigh too heavily on most horrorfictions for Carroll's solution to be a plausible one

suchfear and disgust are less intense than they would be if we thought these beingswere real, but, even so, as his many examples and common observation show,we can feel great fear and disgust during horror films

monsters depends on a metaphorical extension of theterm 'monster', and to talk of psychopaths as categorial violations extends thenotion of a categorial violation to the point where beings simply with unex-pected or unusual traits will be counted as categorial violations: yet we clearlyneed not feel disgust at the unusual. Moreover, to hold a position from whichit follows that films such as Demme's The Silence of the Lambs are borderlinecases of horror marginalizes what look like paradigm examples of the modernhorror film

Thus it transpires thatwe can enjoy fear and disgust, so there is nothing paradoxical about our enjoy-ment of negative emotions, nor about our enjoyment of horror fictions.

His view depends crucially on claims aboutmonsters, defined as beings not believed to exist now according to contempor-ary science (p. 27). Yet not all horror fictions involve monsters: an importantand popular sub-genre of the modern horror film is the 'slasher' movie, whichdeals with psychopathic serial killers

Moreover, because we know that the monstersare only fictional, the fear and disgust they arouse in us are muted in compar-ison with what they would be if we were to meet such monsters in real life,which allows the pleasures of curiosity more easily to outweigh the displeas-ures of fear and disgust.

, monsters being peculiarly suited to elicitour interest because of their status as categorial violations.

which entice us to wonderwhether the monster exists and what it looks like, involve us in the questionof whether the characters in the fiction will come to believe in its existenceand can destroy it, and so on

that such violations are seen as threatening andimpure, and this is Carroll's explanation of why works of horror generate fearand disgust. But because monsters are categorial violations, being physicallyimpossible according to our conceptual scheme, we are also curious aboutthem, and find them fascinating

characteristically produce fear and disgust in their audience.

Hume open his classic discus-sion of the paradox of tragedy, and it can as properly serve as a statement ofthe kernel of the puzzle found in the closely related paradox of horror.

investigatory modemight appear to be self-determined, itdemands a ritualized, mechanical response toevents. The moral occult of a game’s internalstructure pulls the player towards its goal ofdefeating evil.

Unlike that of the horror film, theoperation of the moral occult in videogames israrely oriented around the punishment ofcuriosity. 19

Horror games interfacewith the way in which technology is oftenimagined as demonic and Othered; the playeris offered the challenge to defeat the techno-logically-based demon (aided by the “good”elements of the technology), which, ifachieved, can offer a pleasurable sense thatthe technology has been mastered

authored aspectof narration governs the fabric of game andfilm, channeling the way we negotiate andexperience it. As Andrew Darley notes, and Ibuild on this to underpin my argument aboutthe moral occult, there are points in a game atwhich its pre-programmed nature meansthat the “element of control and choice...is revealed as illusory.”

playerdoes have a sense of self-determination; whenit is lost, the sense of pre-determination isenhanced by the relative difference.

hapless teenagers who ignoreall diegetic warnings and persist in entering intothe spook house. The formula is well rehearsed,soliciting groans and verbal advice, yet thepleasure entailed in this process is founded onawareness of the inevitability of the events thatwill unfold.

ThePlayStation’s “dual-shock” handset registersthe effects of the attack through actual, feltvibration administered to the physical bodyof the player, but because the avatar’s and theplayer’s viewpoints are not correlated, there isan odd disjunction between sensation andwhat is seen—though the player experiencesthe rumble, equated with the attack, of thehandset, the player sees his/her game avataras a separate figure, visually as distinct fromhim/herself as any other character on thegame screen.

In Resident Evil 3, theconnection between player and avatar is di-minished by the use of a third-personperspective and the game’s heavily managed,shifting and pre-rendered framing, which dis-tances the player from close contact with thehorror. Yet even here there is a less complexpattern of viewpoints than occurs in film,precisely because shots are always orientedaround the avatar.

he player can donothing in these sequences but helplesslywatch them unfold. In this particular use ofsuch framing, the cut-scene clearly borrowsfrom horror films which deploy the iconicanthropomorphized “I-cam” moving cameraas representative of a demonic, threateningforce used to great effect in such films as TheShining (1980), Friday the Thirteenth (1980),Halloween (1978) and Evil Dead II (1987), 1

, acut-scene intrudes on the action as the playerwalks down a corridor. This is likely to takethe player by surprise because it is not linkedto a conversation or to the end of a mini-quest,as is more usual in this and other games.

3D virtual space, providing a radicalpoint of departure from film’s use of restric-tive framing to manage what the viewer sees.

which other in-gameevents are determined by the player’s actions.Resident Evil 3 (like Silent Hill) offers points atwhich the player decides how to proceed. InResident Evil 3, the choices made along theway determine the ending of the game

The flexibility of digitally-produced cameramovement found in cut-scenes is oftenmarkedly more mobile than that foundin non-animation-based cinema, therebypermitting a greater continuity between cut-scenes and the relatively rapid speed ofthe avatar ’s movement during most of thegameplay.

increased visualproximity to what lurks within such shadowyplaces, heightening the sense of contact. Thisheightened proximity to potential dangerbuilds disquietude and tension and, becauseexploring such places is central to the game,Undying handles horror in a markedlymore uncinematic way than Resident Evil 3

through editing andfixed framing, which is often used to createshock effects

horror filmsuse editing and framing to create tension andclaustrophobia.

These two games havevery different ways of handling interactivity,however, which impact their structure and thekind of experience offered to the player.

The Alien games (Acclaim/Probe, 1996;Argonaut/Fox, 2000) use the monster-in-space theme, presold by the films.

aesthetic and mar-keting advantages in translating cinematichorror to interactive media.

Themoral occult is also evident in other types ofhelp offered to the player, such as clues towhere to go next planted along with way, andin the series of rewards given for overcomingobstacles.

All horrorvideogames are resolutely grounded in ahidden “occulted” or metaphysical dimension,determined by programming, that shapesgameplay.

has torestore balance to a world corrupted by evilforces that threaten humanity and rationality,and the aim of these games is to defeat themanifestation of such forces

Horroroffers death as spectacle and actively prom-ises transgression; it has the power to promotephysical sensation, and the genre appeals tothe youth market that is central to the gamesindustry. 4

consolidates formally a theme often foundin horror, in which supernatural forces act on,and regularly threaten, the sphere of humanagency.

placed on cer-tain important differences from and similaritiesto the horror film; this material will then beused to indicate the specific types of pleasuresoffered in this interactive intersection of “hor-ror” and “games.”

Resident Evil 3 is a se-quel to two earlier games, each set in animaginary but contemporary American city. To“beat the game” (and defeat evil) the playermust explore the virtual city, solve puzzles, ac-cumulate and use different objects andweapons, and do battle with—or run from—arange of undead monsters.

from the perspec-tive of games that the most insight intochanges in horrific forms across media can bemapped and most productively considered

But the overwhelmingly disappointingand unengaging nature of most of the films sofar seems to suggest that while media interac-tion works in multiple directions, it is in therealm of games (and how they adapt and ex-change templates inherited from cinema)

Given the recent release of several filmsbased on games, such as Lara Croft: TombRaider (2001), Final Fantasy (2001) and mostpertinently Resident Evil (2002),

kinetic and emotional responses thatmight be produced in cinema

player must summon thewillpower to learn the skills needed to with-stand the onslaught of evil monsters and restoreequilibrium.

a question that explic-itly positions the game within the rhetoric of thehorror film genre.