Thesis #2: How I Met Your Human Centipede

Okay, I went to go see it. Standing in the cold rain outside the theatre, I was alone, tucked inconspicuously in my jacket. For some reason (okay maybe a good reason?) I felt embarrassed to be out there. I had a Harvey’s burger hidden in my pocket. I swear I’m not a pervert! I was there to see the Human Centipede.

It’s an unlikely comparison between shocking gross-out horror film The Human Centipede and young Manhattanite, post-Friends sitcom How I Met Your Mother. Stay with me for a bit on this one.

The concept behind the aforementioned CBS laugh-track laden hip sitcom is that the main character, Ted, is telling his children in the future the story of how he met their mother. It’s an interesting gimmick, and it changes some of the dynamics of the typical narrative; particularly in the element of suspense. You are explicitly told in the beginning of the first episode that the main character will indeed find his true love. You are shown that characters Marshall and Lily,  half of the principle cast and the main couple throughout the show, will stay together forever. 

For this reason, an element of the tension is removed, because the audience knows that whatever conflicts occur between these characters, everything will turn out okay. Indeed, this assumption is often implicit in a sitcom, and on some level we usually know that by the end of the 22-minute ordeal, things will turn out largely unchanged from how they began. But when we know the couple is going to stay together, their fights lose much of the importance. Whatever happens to them, they’ll be okay.

Now, keep this predestination for comfort in mind and reverse it.

If you haven’t seen the trailer for the Human Centipede yet, first of all you’re not spending enough time on the internet. Second of all, you’ve basically seen the entire film. You see that the characters get captured by a mad doctor, and that he turns them into the centipede. This is hardly a spoiler. We go into the movie knowing this central element, and it too removes much of the tension, and our sense of empathy starts to become twisted. 

You know that whatever happens they certainly won’t be okay, and all of a sudden when a character tries to run away and almost gets drowned, you think to yourself, “jeez, I hope she drowns”. Or if a gun is pointed at their face, the thought arises “I hope she gets shot.” Because whatever happens, it will be better than getting turned into the centipede.” We know she won’t escape her fate, and like How I Met Your Mother, this assured fate removes an element of the tension. The difference is, while in the light-hearted TV show you aren’t afraid for them because you know everything will turn out peachy, in The Human Centipede you aren’t hopeful for victims because you know they will fall to their eventual horrible fate. It’s the same device, used for opposite effect.

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OH, AND

On the topic of the implicit/explicit formulas of the horror movie, I want to bring up the Final Destination series of films.  First of all, I know they’re not really that good. But what is interesting about them is that they too eschew any kind of suspense, except it’s even more deliberate. We are made not to wonder if the cast of teens is going to die, but how. Again, this is not especially different from the implicit assumption when watching a teen slasher film that most of the characters will be killed, but in this case the film is winking at the audience, and making no illusions. It exists to satisfy our bloodlust. So does Friday the 13th, but at least the Final Destination series pretty much admits it.