Happy Goat Horror

Jump Scares: The Lazy Trick That Keeps Getting Overused

Ah, jump scares—the cheap party trick of horror movies. It’s like the horror genre’s version of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Every time you hear that ominous silence followed by a sudden noise or visual, you can practically hear the filmmakers giggling behind the curtain. Is it effective? Sure, sometimes. But come on, does it always have to be the go-to move? Is this the best we can do?

Let’s get this straight: jump scares can be great. Think back to the first time you saw The Exorcist or The Ring. You know the one—that moment when you think you’re safe, and then BAM, something comes at you from the darkness. It’s heart-pounding, it’s exhilarating, and it feels earned. But the issue isn’t with jump scares themselves; it’s with how many filmmakers use them as a crutch, lazy and easy, when they can’t seem to conjure up real tension.

You know what I’m talking about. The Nun. Annabelle. The Curse of La Llorona. These movies have mastered the jump-scare checklist—dim lights, ominous music, followed by something in the corner of your vision that you can’t quite make out. There it is: BOO! It’s like a horror movie version of a bad stand-up comic just relying on fart jokes to get by.

Why Jump Scares Just Don’t Stick Around

Let’s dive deeper. Why are these quick, sharp jolts so unsatisfying after a while? Because they’re short-lived. You’re startled, sure. But the impact? Gone the next second. It’s a brief blip on your emotional radar. There’s no lasting dread or tension; it’s just an adrenaline rush that fades as quickly as it arrived.

Take a movie like Hereditary, which builds tension over minutes, not seconds. The dread starts creeping in early on and never lets up. Every frame of that film is calculated to make you feel uneasy. The horror in Hereditary isn’t about loud noises; it’s the way the film lets you know something’s wrong long before it shows you just how wrong things can get. When the scares come, they hit harder because we’ve been stewing in discomfort for so long.

Jump scares don’t do that. They don’t let you breathe in the fear. It’s like being asked to eat an entire meal in one bite—you’re not savoring anything, you’re just rushing through to the next thing.

A Brief History of Jump Scares: From Effective to Excessive

To understand why jump scares became so pervasive, we need a little history lesson. It wasn’t always like this. In the golden age of horror, jump scares weren’t the go-to. Think Psycho, The Shining, or Jaws. Sure, there were moments of shock, but they weren’t relying on loud bangs or visuals jumping out at you. Hitchcock built tension through pacing and the unknown. Kubrick played on a slowly unraveling sense of dread, where you knew something was coming but didn’t know what. And then came the modern era. Fast-forward to the 2000s when filmmakers got a little too comfortable with the quick-fix method of scaring an audience. And boy, did they run with it. The  Saw franchise is a big offender—cutting to sharp, disorienting images with loud music blaring in the background. It was effective once, maybe twice, but then? It was rinse and repeat. Soon, every horror film on the shelf seemed to lean heavily on the same formula. The results? Predictable, repetitive, and, frankly, annoying.

Jump Scares vs. Real Horror: The Battle for Our Souls

What makes jump scares such a tempting option for filmmakers? Well, they’re easy—plain and simple. You don’t need to build up a complex narrative or invest in meaningful character development. All you need is a sound, a shot of something moving fast in the frame, and voilà, instant shock factor. But here’s the thing: when we talk about real horror, that’s not what it’s about. Real horror, the kind that sticks with you, is all about tension.

A film like The Witch or The Conjuring doesn’t rely on jump scares. It’s a slow burn. You can almost feel the film’s atmosphere creep into your bones as the characters are dragged deeper into their own personal nightmares. The true horror lies in the feeling of something always being just out of frame. You’re never quite sure what’s there. And when the monster—or the ghost—finally reveals itself, it’s earned. The terror has built up over time. You can almost hear the audience’s collective breath being held as they wait for that moment.

In contrast, jump scares are a quick flash, a snap of the fingers. They’re loud and immediate, but they don’t last. They don’t stick with you. And here’s where it gets tricky: they’re so easy that they start to feel like the film is insulting your intelligence. “Did you see that? Scary, right?” Yeah, for a second, maybe. But then, what’s next?

The Resurgence of Good Scares: Going Beyond the Scream

But all is not lost. There are still directors who understand the power of a good scare without needing to jerk you out of your seat. Think of A Quiet Place, for example. It didn’t need to rely on loud noises to make you jump. It made silence terrifying. It built a world where every sound could be your last, and in doing so, it created a kind of tension that had you holding your breath, not waiting for the next shock.

And then there’s It Follows, which weaves tension throughout its runtime with an incredibly unsettling concept that doesn’t rely on cheap tactics to get under your skin. The scariest part isn’t any one moment—it’s the constant sense of impending doom that hangs over every scene. It’s not about jump scares; it’s about the unpredictable. The fear of what’s lurking just outside the frame is what really drives the movie.

Can We Fix Jump Scares?

Look, I’m not saying we should throw out jump scares entirely. There’s a place for them in horror. But like everything in life, they need to be used sparingly. A well-placed jump scare can amplify the tension of a scene or even break the tension in just the right way, giving the audience a false sense of security before pulling the rug out from under them. But when every scene is a string of jump-scare after jump-scare, it’s not scary anymore. It’s just noise.

So here’s my challenge to filmmakers: stop relying on jump scares to carry your movie. Build something real. Use atmosphere. Use dread. Build a world where the tension is thick, and then drop in a moment of real terror that we can feel in our bones, not just our eardrums. It’s about more than just scaring us—it’s about getting under our skin and staying there. A jump scare might make me jump, but it’s the creeping fear that makes me think about the film long after I’ve left the theater.

Final Thoughts: Stop Screaming and Start Scaring

Here’s the bottom line: jump scares are fine. They work, but only when used wisely. When used correctly, they can make a good horror movie even better. But when they’re the entire bag of tricks? They’re just a crutch for lazy storytelling. So, let’s dial it back, shall we? Let’s have a little more depth, a little more suspense, and a little less noise.

And hey, if you really want to get my blood pumping, try a good old-fashioned scare. You know, the kind that lingers long after the credits roll. Because after all, that’s what we’re here for, right? Real terror. Not just a quick jolt.

That’s Enough Out of Me. Now Get Off My Lawn.