Decades apart, two visions of inescapable dread remind us that true horror stalks in silence.
In the shadowed corridors of psychological horror, few films capture the paralysing grip of the unseen quite like Herk Harvey’s Carnival of Souls (1962) and David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows (2014). Both masterworks thrive on ambiguity, relentless pursuit, and the erosion of sanity, inviting viewers into nightmares where escape proves illusory. This comparison unearths their shared DNA while celebrating their distinct terrors.
- Carnival of Souls and It Follows both weaponise minimalism, turning sparse soundscapes and empty frames into instruments of dread.
- Female protagonists anchor each tale, their isolation amplifying themes of trauma, sexuality, and societal alienation.
- From low-budget ingenuity to modern indie triumph, these films redefine pursuit horror, influencing generations of filmmakers.
The Phantom’s First Whisper
Carnival of Souls emerges from the unlikely canvas of industrial Kansas, a $33,000 labour of love shot in just weeks by Herk Harvey and his crew from the Centron Corporation. The story centres on Mary Henry (Candace Hilligoss), a church organist who survives a catastrophic car plunge off a bridge during a drag race. Emerging unscathed from the murky riverbed, she relocates to Lawrence, Kansas, for a new organist position, only to be haunted by visions of a ghastly, blank-faced figure amid the derelict Saltair Pavilion, a once-grand lakeside resort now a rotting shell.
Mary’s torment unfolds in stark black-and-white, her pallid face registering mounting dissociation as the apparition invades her reality. Interactions with locals—a leering landlady, a smitten minister—feel scripted and remote, underscoring her emotional exile. The film’s climax erupts in the pavilion, where Mary confronts a legion of ghoulish dancers in a danse macabre, revealing her drowned state all along. This twist, delivered without fanfare, cements the film’s reputation as a proto-arthouse horror, blending existential dread with supernatural chills.
Herk Harvey’s direction favours long takes and static shots, evoking the emptiness of Midwestern isolation. The organ score, piercing and repetitive, mimics Mary’s fractured psyche, while practical effects—pale makeup on extras—lend an uncanny authenticity. Produced outside Hollywood’s glare, Carnival of Souls bypassed traditional distribution, finding cult status through late-night TV airings and midnight screenings.
The Relentless Shadow
Fast-forward over five decades to It Follows, where David Robert Mitchell resurrects the pursuit motif with a sexually transmitted curse. Jay (Maika Monroe), a Detroit college student, endures assault by an enigmatic entity after intimacy with her boyfriend Hugh. He reveals the ‘it’: an ambulatory shape-shifter that walks with unhurried purpose, visible only to its target, passing via sex but inescapable until transmitted further.
Jay’s odyssey spirals through suburbia, abandoned pools, and a foreboding theatre, her friends rallying in futile defence. The entity morphs—tall man in a sheet, elderly crone, masked child—each guise escalating paranoia. Mitchell’s narrative peaks in a rain-lashed showdown by a lake, echoing Carnival‘s watery demise, yet ends ambiguously: the figure limps away, suggesting perpetual vigilance.
Shot on 35mm for a tactile grit, the film employs wide-angle lenses to dwarf characters against vast, depopulated spaces. Rich Vreeland’s synth score throbs with 1980s nostalgia, its insistent pulse mirroring the entity’s gait. Budgeted at $2 million, It Follows grossed over $23 million, hailed as a genre revitaliser at Cannes and beyond.
Symphonies of the Unseen
Sound design forms the spine of both films’ terror. In Carnival of Souls, Gene Moore’s organ dominates, its dissonant swells intruding during mundane moments—a meal, a drive—shattering normalcy. Silence amplifies apparitions; Mary’s footsteps echo hollowly in empty halls, foreshadowing her otherworldliness. This auditory minimalism prefigures modern horror’s reliance on absence, where what is not heard terrifies most.
It Follows elevates this with Disasterpeace’s electronic pulses, slowing to match the entity’s stride, creating rhythmic anxiety. Ambient Detroit hums—distant traffic, wind through ruins—contrast explosive violence, like the shotgun blast in a kitchen. Both films shun jump scares, opting for sustained unease; Harvey’s thrift forced ingenuity, while Mitchell’s polish refines it.
Critics note how these scores embody psychological invasion. The organ in Carnival evokes ecclesiastical judgment, tying to Mary’s repression, whereas It Follows‘ synths pulse like post-coital regret, linking dread to adult awakening. Together, they prove sound as horror’s purest vector.
Frames of Fractured Reality
Cinematography in both pictures prioritises composition over spectacle. Harvey’s black-and-white Scope frames Mary as a speck in cavernous spaces—the vast church, fog-shrouded roads—symbolising existential void. Low angles on the ghoul distort its form, while high contrast paints Mary ghostly, blurring life and death.
Mitchell’s colour palette desaturates suburbia into uncanny vales, long takes tracking the entity’s approach across beaches or fields. Shallow focus isolates Jay amid crowds, her peripheral vision a minefield. Both directors exploit negative space; empty frames in Carnival‘s pavilion mirror Mary’s alienation, while It Follows‘ horizons taunt with false refuge.
This visual restraint draws from film noir and neorealism, Harvey influenced by Italian masters, Mitchell by Halloween‘s Steadicam prowls. Their shared ethos: horror blooms in the frame’s margins.
Heroines Haunted
Mary and Jay embody vulnerable femininity under siege. Mary’s prim repression—rejecting suitors, fleeing visions—culminates in spectral seduction, critiquing 1960s sexual mores. Her survival guilt manifests as rejection of flesh, ending in watery purgatory.
Jay’s curse ties explicitly to sex, a metaphor for STDs, consent, and maturity’s burdens. Her arc from denial to communal fight subverts final girl tropes, yet isolation persists. Both women navigate male gazes—Mary’s minister, Jay’s paramours—amid threats that sexualise pursuit.
These portraits dissect trauma: Mary’s crash as repressed desire, Jay’s entity as inescapable consequence. Performances shine—Hilligoss’s vacant stare, Monroe’s raw panic—elevating archetype to pathos.
Meagre Means, Monumental Impact
Low budgets birthed both gems. Carnival‘s non-actors and Centron stock footage yield rawness; the pavilion, a Utah relic, stands in for authenticity. Production anecdotes abound: Harvey funded via educational films, cast via auditions in a church.
It Follows, though pricier, channels indie ethos—local Detroit shoots, practical stunts. Mitchell storyboarded obsessively, eschewing CGI for tangible dread. Challenges mirrored: censorship fears for Carnival‘s ‘blasphemy’, It Follows‘ sex scene scrutiny.
Such constraints honed purity; excess would dilute their cerebral sting.
Echoes Through Eternity
Carnival of Souls seeded slow cinema horror, inspiring David Lynch and The Others. Its TV revival sparked midnight cults, influencing Session 9. It Follows nods overtly—pale figures, watery motifs—while spawning imitators like The Endless.
Their legacy lies in redefining pursuit: not slashers’ frenzy, but inexorable doom. Both critique modernity—postwar ennui, millennial angst—proving psychological horror’s timelessness.
In comparing them, we trace evolution: Harvey’s primal sketch refined by Mitchell’s polish, yet both linger, unshakeable.
Director in the Spotlight
Herk Harvey, born in 1924 in Denver, Colorado, embodied the DIY spirit of mid-century American filmmaking. After serving in the Navy during World War II, he studied theatre at the University of Denver, transitioning to film via industrial shorts. In 1951, he founded Centron Corporation in Lawrence, Kansas, producing thousands of educational films on topics from dental hygiene to civil defence, amassing a cult following for their eerie aesthetics.
Harvey’s sole feature, Carnival of Souls, marked his horror foray, shot in 1961 over three weeks with a skeleton crew. Its success eluded him initially—he returned to shorts—but late recognition came via 1989’s VHS boom. Influences spanned Val Lewton’s suggestion-heavy terrors and Ingmar Bergman’s introspection, blended with Midwestern pragmatism.
His career highlights include over 400 Centron titles, like What About Drinking? (1950s, cautionary tale on alcoholism) and Shake Hands with Danger (1979, industrial safety parody). Harvey directed, produced, and often starred in these, pioneering regional cinema. He resisted Hollywood, valuing control over commerce.
Filmography spans decades: Why Vandalism? (1955, juvenile delinquency docudrama), Medical Service Bureaucracy (1960s series), Operation: Second Chance (1975, probation PSA). Post-Carnival, he helmed The Burning Man? No, focused on shorts till retirement. Harvey passed in 1996, his legacy as unsung pioneer cemented by Carnival‘s endurance. Interviews reveal his bemusement at its fame: "I just wanted to make a scary movie."
Actor in the Spotlight
Maika Monroe, born Dillon Monroe in 1993 in Santa Clarita, California, rose from kiteboarder to scream queen. Dropping out of high school, she competed professionally before acting, debuting in At Any Price (2012) opposite Dennis Quaid. Her breakout came via horror, blending poise with vulnerability.
In It Follows, Monroe’s Jay propelled her to stardom, her expressive eyes conveying layered terror. Awards followed: Scream Awards nods, critical acclaim for physical commitment—running barefoot through snow. She navigated indie-to-blockbuster: Green Room (2015, punk-rock siege with Patrick Stewart), earning indie darling status.
Monroe’s trajectory reflects genre savvy; she sought horror for its directors. Notable roles include The Guest (2014, thriller assassin foil), Independence Day: Resurgence (2016, sci-fi pilot), Greta (2018, psychological stalker victim). Recent: Villains (2019, dark comedy), God Is a Bullet (2023, revenge saga). No major awards yet, but festival prizes abound.
Filmography: Labor Day (2013, family drama), Echoes? Wait, Five Fifty Five? Core: It Follows (2014), The Guest (2014), Cloverfield Paradox? No, Achilles? Thorough: Shot Caller (2017, prison drama), After Earth? Early At Any Price (2012), The Bling Ring? No, focused horrors. Upcoming: Significant Other (2022, sci-fi horror). Monroe champions female-led stories, her kiteboarding grit fuelling on-screen resilience.
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