Scared Stupid

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who enjoy a good Halloween movie and those who apparently need to be reminded that watching a fictional demon crawl out of someone’s body is not a normal way to unwind after work. Naturally, I work with both.

As part of my highly scientific, entirely unofficial research into Halloween traditions, I decided to ask my coworkers at the CDA Press a simple question: What’s your favorite Halloween movie?

It turns out that even in a newsroom, where we spend our days sorting through facts, chasing down answers and occasionally arguing over commas, a simple question about Halloween can be surprisingly personal. Because our favorite spooky-season movies aren’t necessarily about what’s scariest.

I expected a few classics, maybe some nostalgia, perhaps a disagreement or two. What I got was a reminder that the definition of a Halloween movie is about as varied as the people watching them.

Most people gave me one title. One movie. One definitive answer. My editor, Bill Buley, gave me five.

Young Frankenstein, The Exorcist, Poltergeist, Willard and Wait Until Dark were his picks. His list ranges from Mel Brooks comedy to demonic possession, supernatural terror, killer rats and psychological suspense.

I won’t speculate on whether five titles was an inability to commit, an unusually deep appreciation for cinema, or a subtle editorial challenge to my methodology. I’ll simply report the facts and leave the investigation open.

Then there’s Chris, whose choices included Alien, Hellraiser, Hellraiser II and The Thing. Chris apparently prefers his Halloween entertainment with a generous helping of existential dread and the possibility that the person sitting next to him may not actually be human.

Audrey chose The Rocky Horror Picture Show, because nothing says Halloween quite like a musical featuring eccentric characters, outrageous costumes and enough cult appeal to keep people singing along decades later.

Jason went with Shredder, a slasher film shot in Idaho. It’s always nice to find a local connection, even when that connection involves people being terrorized on a snowy mountain.

Josh selected Shaun of the Dead, proving that the zombie apocalypse is considerably more entertaining when accompanied by British humor.

Josh’s alter-ego characters (since he didn’t want to fully admit to having more favorite Halloween movies than Bill), Junior, Julio and Julia, chose the following:

Junior chose Ghostbusters, because if there’s something strange in your neighborhood, you know whom to call. Julio picked Army of Darkness, a film that suggests fighting the forces of evil is best accomplished with a chainsaw, a shotgun and a healthy supply of one-liners. Julie chose Coraline, which is technically a children’s film but also a reminder that buttons sewn over your eyes are a perfectly reasonable reason to distrust an otherwise welcoming alternate universe.

And then there’s me. My favorite is Ernest Scared Stupid.

I realize this puts me in a slightly different category from the people watching demonic possession and interdimensional monsters. But I stand by my choice. Give me Ernest P. Worrell, a bunch of trolls and some good old-fashioned slapstick, and I’m perfectly happy with my Halloween viewing schedule.

Besides, my choice comes with a little family history. Ernest Scared Stupid was a movie my dad loved watching with us when we were growing up. He’s always been a fan of Jim Varney, and to this day, he still drops an occasional “You know what I mean, Vern?” into conversation.

Some things stick with you.

At some point, a movie becomes more than a movie. It becomes a memory of sitting together on the couch, laughing at the same ridiculous character, hearing the same jokes and eventually carrying those jokes into adulthood. I can watch Ernest Scared Stupid now and remember not just the movie, but the person who made it part of our family traditions.

Which got me thinking about Halloween itself.

We’ve come a long way from the ancient traditions and folklore that helped shape the holiday. Today, Halloween is a curious mixture of old customs, commercial spectacle, neighborhood traditions and entertainment. We dress up, decorate our homes, stockpile candy and voluntarily spend money to be frightened by people in rubber masks.

Some of us even turn our living rooms into miniature haunted attractions, complete with elaborate decorations that took six months to plan and cost more than a reasonable person should admit. Others are perfectly content to switch off the lights, put on a movie and pretend nobody is home when the doorbell rings.

There is no wrong way to celebrate, really. Unless you’re the person who hands out raisins. Then we may need to have a conversation.

Halloween movies have become part of that seasonal ritual. Every October, we revisit the stories that frighten us, make us laugh or remind us of being children. The films change, new monsters arrive, and special effects become increasingly realistic. But the appeal remains remarkably consistent.

We like being scared when we know we’re safe. We enjoy a little mystery when the world feels predictable. And sometimes, we just want an excuse to watch something ridiculous while eating an irresponsible amount of candy.

Perhaps that’s why my coworkers’ choices were so different. Halloween means something a little different to everyone. For some, it’s a chance to revisit the classics. For others, it’s an opportunity to embrace the strange, the gruesome or the downright absurd. And for a few brave souls, apparently, it’s a chance to watch Hellraiser and call it entertainment.

As for me, I’ll happily stick with Ernest. After all, the best Halloween traditions aren’t necessarily the oldest, the scariest or the most elaborate. Sometimes they’re the small things we repeat year after year, the movies we share with people we love, and the jokes that somehow survive long after the credits roll.

So this October, whether you’re watching The Exorcist with every light in the house switched on, singing along to Rocky Horror, revisiting Coraline or watching Ernest battle trolls for the hundredth time, I hope you find something that makes the season feel like yours.

And if you happen to hear someone quoting Jim Varney in the middle of an otherwise ordinary conversation, don’t worry. It’s probably just my dad.

You know what I mean, Vern?