One of the major reasons that contemporary horror films so often fail to inspire dread or terror or, worst of all, horror is that so the genre adopted in almost unanimous fashion the acceptance that a kinetic approach to editing utilizing rapid editing of the short take is the key to inducing the emotion response of fear. Despite the inescapable fact that Alex Roman’s film The Third and the Seventh in no way belongs to the horror genre, it stands as testament to just how wrong horror film directors got it.
Despite the fact it is not a horror film, several individual shots are highly suggestive of that genre by virtue of the composition afforded by the stark contrast achieved a wide angle focal length and stark but crisp white balance. These shots are punctuated throughout the film and can be described quite easily: the shots that feature silhouetted objects in shadow. These punctuations act as evidence to support the theory that hard shadows filmed in high resolution with a deep depth of field have the power to instill a certain sense of anxiety. That there is no cinematic aspect that directly contributes to instilling a sense of unease is indicative of the power of such framing of silhouettes. It is either fascinating or disheartening to think of what the past thirty years of horror film might be like if the decisive influence on the genre had been Stanley Kubrick’s long slow takes that build tension and anxiety to an almost impossible degree in The Shining rather than the Hitchcock’s flurry of cuts in the shower scene from Psycho.

While it may seem strange to read so many references to anxiety, dread, terror and other emotional aspects associated with the horror genre associated with viewing The Third and the Seventh, I must admit that the one single film that kept coming back to my mind while watching the long, slow takes and the seamlessly integrated smoothness of the editing was, indeed, The Shining. Of course, this may be due to my choosing to watch it a second time with the sound muted. The very brief sequence that begins at the 2:50 mark and ends at the 2:57 is a perfect example of one of silhouettes framed in wide focus within a deep depth of field that engenders a disquieting atmosphere. When the stark contrast of the hard shadow of the crane is photographed from a suddenly stationary camera, the only movement suddenly become the object within the frame. This represents a jarring departure from the nearly three minutes of constant motion by the camera resulting either from actual tracking or panning or from techniques of focus shift to manipulate the depth of field. For almost the first time—and certainly for the first important time—all the movement is contained and sustained directly within the subject of the frame. At first it is difficult to determine exactly what the crane is lifting before becoming clear that it is a movie camera preparing for a crane shot.

Within those few precious seconds of indeterminacy is created a mise-en-scene in which everything comes together to suggest anything is possible. The suddenly decision to stop moving the camera and focus solely on what is being shot subliminally signifies that what is being shot is important and needs the focus of attention. For maybe three or four seconds at most, the silhouette is moving in a way in which anything imaginable could be caught within the grip of the crane’s claw. Clearly, the DP is intent on creating a world of mysterious contemplation through the effects of camera movement, focus, lighting and other aspects of filmmaking techniques and for others the slow, languorous movements could instill a quite different emotional response, but throughout the entirety of the film—but especially in those moments focusing on shadows and silhouettes—those techniques instill for me a disquieting sense of anxiety suggesting that not far beneath the surface of the immaculate objects not presented in silhouette lies a horror or terror just waiting to unfold and catch the observer in its grip just like the crane has for a brief time seemed to catch something unknown in its grip.