Exploring Dark Themes in Fictional Media: Part 1

A discussion about the place that violence and dark themes should hold in fiction, particularly in visual media.

Disclaimer: in this series of articles there will be descriptions of graphic scenes, though I will attempt to include them tastefully in the spirit of careful discussion.

Secondary Disclaimer: I am not a specialist in psychology. Where I reference studies and research, I will input a hyperlink, so that you can verify the accuracy of my conclusions.

Introduction

Depictions of violence (and dark themes) in Media have often been cited by news outlets and concerned citizens as having harmful effects on society. Though the topic has been dissolved of its more mainstream controversy (perhaps due to a lack of novelty or perhaps for more nefarious reasons), there is still a buzz of studies, articles and opinion pieces which are concerned over the propagation of such content. This will be an interrogation of such assertions. The arguments against the displaying of violent content tend to fall into two distinct assertions, which contain some overlap: viewing violence increases aggressive behaviour and it leads to desensitisation to all manner of disturbing events. There is a less addressed side to this debate, which concerns whether viewing violence causes a general darkening of mood or can be used to sway/extremify political views.

Violence is certainly abundant in our current media landscape, but it is not a novel development. Rather the boundaries have shifted back and forth between expression and restraint. Much attention has been drawn to the negatives of violence, but it is necessary to observe the merits in the depiction of violence in media, otherwise the whole issue is reduced to an obvious moral disaster with no benefits. This simply isn't the case for reasons I will demonstrate. Equally, the nonchalant response from fans of violent media, who dismiss the whole case, also do a disservice to our collective understanding. By viewing the debate in binaries, things initially become easier, for there is no longer need to think too hard, but it only perpetuates the war between advocates and dissidents.

To put my cards on the table, I currently hold the belief that violence and explorations of our darkness are worthy of inclusion in fiction, including visual media. My art and writing are clearly indicative of this. I do however, believe that there is a responsibility of artists and creatives to understand the effect of their content (particularly in the extreme) and err towards using it as a means to an end, not as an end in of itself. That is, violence in service of character, theme or some persuasive goal. All of these ideas are subject to change as I delve deeper into this topic.

My own art (related to the theme)

The Darkness Within

Lord of the Flies (1954) is a book about a group of boys who are stranded on a desert island and rapidly descend into tribalism, leading to violence, savagery and murder. A real life case in 1965 saw six boys survive for fifteen months on a desert island, acting in cooperation and practicality. However, they were notably of an older age range than the boys depicted in LOTF. I have my own story from life which may support the LOTF hypothesis, though it is a far less extreme example. At ten years old or so, I participated in a youth program intended to cultivate teamwork and leadership through outdoor activities. One trip brought us to a campsite, hosting our local group amongst several other groups from neighbouring towns, and we were free to roam the nearby forests. Initially, the interactions between our geographically defined groups were friendly and collaborative. However, somewhere in the span of only two or three days, and with no catalyst that I can recall, we descended into a war: skirmishes were fought with rocks, sticks brandied as swords and a few cuts and bruises were inflicted, resulting in the operation being shut down by the supervisors. The injuries were very minor, but I do sometimes ponder how severe the conflict might have grown without the intervention of adults and societal restraints. I concede that some of the children there had probably been exposed to their fair share of violent films, but my sense was that the cause lay deeper, in something instinctual, especially since the behaviour was not isolated to a few individuals.

The point of this anecdote ground the following points in something real. I believe that one of the most overlooked or ignored aspects of the debate around media with dark themes is that we are all, with rare exceptions, filled with the potential to commit violence and be consumed by dark emotions. The historical precedent certainly points to a proclivity towards aggressions, particularly in perpetration against ‘the other’. We often fear this or try to bury it, which only causes it to surface with more vigor. Carl Jung explored this through the archetype of The Shadow, a part of every person which comprises the less socialized aspects of the psyche, and insisted that it was necessary to play fair with this darkness. By not integrating The Shadow and letting it fester, Jung identifies that it will take control or lash out in emotional or physical aggression.

This idea is one that has been obscured in our current moral landscape, which favours the belief that we can all become perfect beacons of compassion, by acting out absolute tolerance and acceptance. The flaw in this reasoning is that it is intuitive, yet entrenched in emotional repression. The thinking goes something like: ‘Do not express those traits that, in their extreme, fall outside of social cohesion.’ Such as they are: anger, violence, hyperactivity. Some examples of this in practice is the prohibition and discouraging of activities like play fighting between kids.

Approaches which integrate The Shadow are often seen as revolutionary, because they stand in conflict to the prescribed universal medication that is simply focusing on being kind (an admirable goal, but unsustainable if we don't acknowledge the parts of us that might bubble up in hard times). Hence, my own concern when I see the wholesale denigration of violent content without thorough consideration; a mis-step in our appraisal of the issues we face could drain our available solutions even further.

Metal music and catharsis

I have no qualm with admitting that when I was a teenager, I struggled with a general, implacable hum of anger at everything. Now, having taken certain steps to become more attuned, my anger has lost practically all control over me. The solutions presented by others when I was younger were to get out in nature and appreciate the little things, which are no doubt useful strategies, but these weren’t the answer at the time. It was the opposite: a journey into the abyss, through a type of music aptly called ‘Death Metal.’

The genre is characterised by guttural vocals, heavy guitar tones and drumming so fast that it sounds like a machine gun. The lyrics can be vulgar and address the darkest themes imaginable, from the corruption of the soul, to the gruesome details of serial killers’ transgressions, to fantastically horrifying worlds. This section may appear tangential, but by the conclusion I believe it will elucidate something quite essential to the topic at hand. For context, here is an example of the music in question, from one of my favourite bands (volume warning!):

The genre has stirred constant outrage over the past five decades or so. No doubt, it seemed like an easy target. Obviously, this black hole of negativity and aggression was evil and destroying the youth. Promptly, the concerned parties discovered the target was more illusive, and studies were not yielding the results they had expected.

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, thou art not so.” John Donne

I think it fitting that my first exposure to this poem from the 1600s was during the beginning of a death metal song by Children of Bodom: Follow the Reaper (2001). Over four hundred years ago a Cleric recognised that what we perceive or intuit as terrible may not necessarily be a correct assessment. That our intuitions are only as strong as the care we put into cultivating them.

I do not ask you to take all of this on faith. Studies exploring the effect of metal music on listeners, typically conclude that it causes a slight reduction in aggression, or no change. In this study for example, metal had no noticeable effect on aggression in fans of the genre. Notably it did have a negative effect on those who did not previously enjoy it, but this is something I will revisit in a later part of this broader analysis. On YouTube, there is a generalised summary of The Dangerous Effects of Heavy Metal Music, which contains heavy citation. All emotional repercussions were inconclusive. Most of the “Dangerous Effects” discussed were results of the activities associated with the music, such as moshing: a practice where people run around and collide with each other in a semi-controlled manner.

The empirical evidence, which seems relevant in matters of mood and emotion, begins to paint a fuller picture. A brief search of “metal music makes me angry” yields only proclamations towards the opposite; assertions that metal aids in a calmer temperament from day to day and acts curatively in the throws of some particularly intense turmoil. Memes, relatable snapshots and my own conversations with other fans seem so often to echo this sentiment. And the reasoning is rooted in catharsis. The music channels all of the challenge of life, and dispels them with sound waves.

The culture surrounding the metal genre has developed with a similar mission goal of catharsis. Moshing and headbanging are common sights at metal concerts. Both are opt-in activities with associated dangers, but little different in this way to other sports that have a risk of injury. As an observer, mosh pits (designated moshing spots in the crowd) seem like the perfect Petri dish for violence. The reality is that there is an “unspoken” rule system for moshing, which is regulated by members of the crowd themselves. If someone falls, the mosh pit stops and they are helped to their feet. There is no concentrated force, such as punching, or kicking, only indiscriminate barging of shoulders. Many are quick to denounce this activity, but will happily step into bumper cars and aim for the strongest collisions, or engage in a tug of war. Try to recall a time when anyone did not put all of their effort into a tug of war. Some exorcisms of aggression attempt to hide themselves behind a wheel, or in the fibres of a rope. The metal scene differs in its non-abashedness and its willingness to embrace the darkness. It is expressive, rather than repressive.

What can this tell us?

Violence and darkness are extremely difficult, possibly even impossible to separate from the human condition. No matter the iteration of human development, or the pureness of ones character, some shadow lurks in the dark corners of our being. However, violence and darkness ought not be called “evil” and cast out, else they embody that very perception. All of us must find a way to give them their due, and indulging them through the non-destructive realm of media does not seem like a poor approach. So case closed, right?

To be continued…

I have made an argument for the cathartic and integrating benefits of violence expressed through art and mediated environments. However, there is much to be said for the effect on those who are not temperamentally orientated towards violent media. I also have deeper concerns about highly realistic visuals (such as gore) and will explore if these themes also have a greater monopoly on attention than other ones. These matters have not been overlooked and will be addressed in due time. If you have any thoughts on this issue, please join the conversation. It is a broad topic, which I am slowly dissecting, and fresh perspectives are very useful ahead of future sections.