Horror, the warning, the chase
Climate change is starting to seem more and more like a true horror film. But remember to watch until the end.
If you remember anything about the movie No Country for Old Men, it's probably Anton Chigurh. More than the villain of the story, he is a force: a presence made of heartlessness, capability, and relentlessness that together make him nearly supernatural.
I don't watch a lot of horror movies, but the ones that I like have something like Chigurh in them. No Country isn't a horror film, but you can see the same kind of terror in them: Michael Myers in the Halloween films is an iconic version of an unstoppable, pursuing supernatural force. The Ring features a videotape that when watched, leads a ghost to kill you within 7 days, no matter the obstacles you try to put in its way. In Final Destination, one of our trashiest franchises, a premonition that allows a group of teenagers to avoid a disaster leads their pursuit by death, which always ends with their demise.
All of these movies start with a warning, followed by a chase. The chases have a cadence to them, where the lead characters seek out some kind of safety, only to have their hiding places, secure rooms, or distant locations fall to the power of whatever is pursuing them.
I think it's interesting to contrast these with movies about being trapped, or isolated (which I do not watch as much) such as
, or any number of haunted house films are primarily about the inability to leave to find safety. In movies where supernatural forces chase you, there is no place safe to leave to.
I've been thinking a lot about this particular kind of horror as I watch the leaves on the elm tree in my yard fall from water and heat stress, and see the lakes and rivers around Texas shrink. The relentlessness of 100 degree days feels something like being constantly hounded by a force that is just so much bigger and more powerful than you.
I've lived and traveled to many wonderful places, but all of them now have this omnipresent threat surrounding them. Every policy change we could make to address it is already very late, and even those solutions we already have are hounded by the power of greed that wants them gone.
In some of these movies, like The Ring, the danger can only be solved by sacrificing someone else, which also feels apt. Making a copy of the deadly tape and forcing someone to watch it will pass the curse along, which is a fitting analogue the rich building seawalls around their mansions that will push dangerous storm surge onto their neighbors instead.
Of course, these movies are not perfect analogies, and I don't think anyone should embrace despair. Horror movies are fun, and interesting, because they offer radically simplified versions of real world fears. These moments of vivid dread when the crisis seems unstoppable never tell the full story. There are many pathways forward that will protect the things we love about the world, and make healthier, safer lives for people all over the planet.
But I think when dealing with a problem as large and complex as climate change, it's also ok to give yourself room to feel the scariest moments. The rest of our lives will in some way be disrupted and shaped by this issue, and you cannot spend every moment of every day in unwavering optimism.
If there's any real world lesson to learn from this kind of horror movie, it's probably that the people who do survive are the ones who keep fighting, and never give up. Eventually, you'll find a way to pull a Laurie Strode and Michael Myers will fall out of a window.
But the cryptic ending to No Country for Old Men is another way to think about the future with an odd kind of hope. Even the most dangerous people can be afflicted by unforeseen events, and answers can emerge out of the unknown. The only answer is to keep going forward, as far and as fast as you can, and be ready for what can't be expected.