The exchange is swift, startling, and the beginning of one of cinema’s most memorable and terrifying character debuts.
While Pam is recoiling from the porch-side human teeth, Kirk enters the house to find a taxidermist’s paradise, jogging inside ( why?) only to trip and come face to face with a mallet-wielding Leatherface. Spying a spluttering generator, Pam waits while Kirk enters through the unlocked door to inquire about gas. Kirk and Pam wander off to seek out a local swimming hole but find only dust, and then, of course, they find the house. By the time we get to the homestead tensions are running as hot as the sweltering Texas sun. There’s nothing quite like a whole 35-minute opening act of just build-up. Introducing: Leatherface! in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) We’re gonna need a bigger boat and a fresh pair of drawers. The landlubber lawman is tasked with chumming the waters, muttering his contempt for the know-it-all-Navy-man with a “Come down here and chum some of this shit.” The moment he turns away from the ocean, big bad Bruce pops his dome past the surface, and Brody fills his pants with all that brown. His job here is to lull us into a sense of pleasure, where we can enjoy the bickering love affair brewing between Quint ( Robert Shaw), Hooper ( Richard Dreyfuss), and Brody ( Roy Scheider) before he really gives us the goose. By the third act of Jaws, Steven Spielberg has already induced a lifelong fear of the deep in his audience. They’re all outsiders, and they’re all hunting an obscenely large, child-snacking shark for different reasons. There’s the ol’ sea dog captain, the young rich kid scientist, and the dutiful cop who’d rather be anywhere else. This is what a good jump scare does: it spikes your adrenaline and allows your own nightmares to overtake your emotions. We’re left to fill in the gruesome details and, as always, our own imaginations are home to the scariest ideas of all. The quick zoom in on a shear-wielding demon nun, the jarring score, the brilliant cut-to a beheaded statue - it all tells us everything we need to know about the murder that’s happened and it does so without actually showing a thing. The camera is stationary as we watch the goings-on of a nurse’s station and then, just when the anticipation has reached its peak, the music, camera work, and editing all join forces to scare the bejeezus out of even the most seasoned horror fans.
#Jump scare how to
This jump scare is a perfect model for how to simply, but effectively, create a sense of dread and how to then have it pay off. It’s a perfectly executed jump scare, but it’s only the beginning of the terror that’s in store for the poor bastard. He kicks it a couple of times and nothing happens, and then, out of the blue, the person in the sack suddenly darts toward him.
Later on when Shigeharu discovers it, however, the bag appears to be lifeless. Earlier in the film, we learn how wicked Asami is when we see a body bag moving in her apartment. As it turns out, Asami isn’t exactly stable. What begins as a story about a widower, Shigeharu ( Ryo Ishibashi), and his new squeeze, Asami ( Eihi Shiina), forming a relationship eventually turns into a nightmare. If you go into this depraved masterpiece from director Takashi Miike with no prior knowledge of the film, you would be forgiven for thinking it was a romantic dramedy. It’s a glorious testament to the film’s practical effects that this jump scare is genuinely thrilling and frightening, not to mention it conjures a feeling of fear that lingers long after the credits.
With the iconic defibrillation scene, John Carpenter saw Alien’s chestburster and said “Hold my beer.” Norris ( Charles Hallahan) suffering a heart attack is just the beginning of the end when his chest rips open and devours Cooper’s ( Richard Dysart) arms before transforming the man himself into a monstrosity. This jump scare couldn’t possibly be cheap because there’s absolutely not a single moment in The Thing that feels cheap.
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