I love Dawn of the Dead. It combines a biting satire of commercialism with zombies. How can you deny its power? Answer: You can't. Even a film like The Mist has a lot to say about the nature of man in a crisis (and somewhere out there is a paper on how The Mist is a response to America's fatigue and grief after 9/11), just like Ira Levin's The Stepford Wives was a very male reaction to the women's liberation movement of the '60s and '70s. But you people knew that. You're smart, just like the movies listed above. But, sometimes I don't want my horror films highfalutin' and uppity. Sometimes, I just want the bejeezus scared out of me, and a recent viewing of [REC] has reminded me what got me into the genre to begin with.

The ability to terrify is a gift, and so few have it. When I think of real scares, I go back to Raimi's The Evil Dead, low budget for sure, but the possessed sing-song repetition of "We're gonna get you" and those blank eyes still give me chills. If the movie has any social relevance, I'd be hard pressed to tell you what it is. It just works. Or, what about the 2004 Dawn of the Dead? A movie that my inner fanboy wanted to revile, Zach Snyder manages to craft a great horror flick out of Papa Bear's classic. And that first ten minutes? Brutal, violent, scary as hell. Gone are the references to a society consuming itself, replaced by fast ghouls with no other motivation but to chase and eat. I still get the willies watching it.

I enjoy a well-considered story and real characters as much as anyone, but that's not why I got in this game originally. I did it because I am warped enough to enjoy the moment when a filmmaker "gets" me. The jump, the gasp, the moment in bed when you wonder how long you'd last when the zombie plague finally goes down. That's the joy of horror, and something writers and directors seem to have forgotten. I don't need a morality tale every time. Just scare the hell out of me, if you can, and you'll have my respect forevermore. Now, get to work.

What makes that possible? What are the ingredients for a pure scare film? There's no exact recipe. It's personal, of course; what scares me doesn't necessarily scare you. But there are commonalities. They harken back to the carnval rides of yore, the ghost houses on the midway. Cheap, rickety, sometimes almost laughable, but then something jumps out of the shadows and you end up explaining to your date that the stain was the soda you spilled. I know Blair Witch has its detractors, but I still believe that the film leads you to a very specific point of fear, then unleashes it with fury in the final frames. It's a slow burn, but worth it. [REC] is in this category, as well. A funhouse movie with scares galore. Some of them are telegraphed, as in the mother chained to the stairwell (you'll love it when you see it) who you just know is going to get all zombified. And when she does, as the camera weaves around her, just out of reach despite the extended arms clawing for the cameraman, it's scary.

That funhouse feel is a jolt, it's lightning in a bottle. The Exorcist may have social and religious overtones, but it's a spook story at heart. The faces seen hidden in shadows, the spinning head, the crabwalk, even the spinal tap - all images intended to freak people out. And did it ever work. Friedkin made an all-out scarefest and it tops many lists of favorites. Or Jaws, the ultimate waterlogged thrill ride. Nothing too deep going on here, just the idea that if you dip your legs in the water, something may just rise to the surface and bite them off for your troubles.