Horror films rank among the top five most popular genres in the United States, and true crime documentaries and podcasts draw millions of listeners. Chances are that you have already encountered these types of stories in your search for entertainment. A common reaction among Latter-day Saints is to dismiss such narratives as the work of the adversary, intended to weaken faith and erode virtue.

Much of the entertainment of the world will have a deleterious effect and there are many teachings directed at Latter-day Saints that warn about the dangers of the horror genre specifically. Many horror films and stories foster a sadistic appetite or fascination with the occult, which can erode faith and compromise virtue.

That said, I argue the revelatory counsel does not altogether dismiss the need for horror stories. Repeatedly and clearly, when making media choices, we are admonished to seek virtue, maintain consistency with the Spirit, and avoid that which inspires sin or desensitizes us to it. It is my aim to persuade you to take a closer look and seek after the virtue found in these kinds of stories.

In writing this article, I acknowledge that I am walking a thin line. I do not seek to endorse darkness or violence but rather their opposites. I suggest that stories centered around themes of death, danger, and sin present a unique opportunity to educate the soul on the reality of evil, its consequences, and how to avoid it. Such narratives refine our ability to regulate negative emotions, prepare us for danger, help us process trauma, and, when approached thoughtfully, can ultimately strengthen our faith in God and His Plan of Happiness.

Lessons in Horror

While these stories may seem to glorify darkness, many horror narratives actually emphasize profound lessons about morality, family, death, and faith, showcasing Christ-like virtues like love, courage, forgiveness, and sacrifice. These virtues shine brightest when contrasted with darkness and danger, like diamonds on a black backdrop; the darkness amplifies their message of resilience, making it all the more memorable and impactful. Even though the most uplifting moments in these stories are often framed by terror, it is precisely this juxtaposition that makes their message so powerful.

The horror genre aims to evoke fear, often using supernatural or psychological threats to confront our own mortality. Stories in Latter-day Saint scripture and history resemble horror narratives as they highlight the downfalls of nations and individuals and warn the world of the dangers of straying from the Lord. Similarly, original Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales like Cinderella and Snow White were dark and violent, using fear to teach moral lessons. Over time, these tales were softened, and in this process, they were diminished in their ability to teach moral lessons and help individuals, especially children, process fear and difficult emotions.

Additionally, for some, horror stories can emerge as a way to confront problems and find solace in difficult times. For example, following the world wars, horror saw a rise in popularity. At the time, horror stories symbolized societal fears of mass death and destruction, offering a way for people to cope with war-induced anxieties and process collective trauma. 

An “Exorcise” for the Mind

Horror stories can offer solace during difficult times by mirroring personal struggles and providing guidance. Research shows that engaging with fear in a controlled, fictional setting like horror films has therapeutic benefits by helping regulate emotions and reducing real-life anxiety. By acting as “mental simulations,” horror stories allow viewers to practice coping strategies for real-world fears. 

Similarly, most of our dreams, especially during REM sleep, are stress-related or nightmares and can function like horror films in processing negative emotions. Threat Simulation Theory suggests that these dreams help individuals rehearse responses to danger, enhancing survival instincts. Studies on trauma survivors support that dreams serve as a space for coping with future threats, aided by theta brainwave activity that reprocesses emotional memories.

Art—through film, books, or painting—can be seen as a form of conscious dreaming, weaving universal symbols into narratives that help process trauma. This shared function of art and dreaming serves a practical, biological function, helping humans become better equipped for both psychological and physiological survival by organizing and interpreting emotional experiences in a way that fosters resilience and adaptability.

Studies during the COVID-19 pandemic found that fans of horror and apocalyptic films displayed greater resilience and emotional regulation. Their exposure to fear in these controlled environments better prepared them for the chaos and uncertainty of the pandemic, reducing their reliance on avoidance when facing real-world challenges.

It is a natural human experience to want to quit when faced with fear or discomfort—like a teacher managing a rowdy class, a father in a job interview, a student at a try-out, or a suitor on a date. In these moments, what we need is the courage to face our fears head-on. Horror films offer a safe space to practice this kind of emotional resilience. Often, people want to ignore scary stories or dreams because they’re already dealing with too much stress or fear—the above research indicates that doing the opposite, taking a closer look at them, may be exactly what is needed to overcome those fears and stressors.

Similarly, Brigham Young taught when opening the first theater in Salt Lake City that theater can be an “exercise for the mind,” a safe place to understand “evil and its consequences, good and its happy results and rewards; the weakness and the follies of man, the magnanimity of virtue and the greatness of truth. The stage can be made to aid the pulpit in impressing upon the minds of a community an enlightened sense of a virtuous life, also a proper horror of the enormity of sin and a just dread of its consequences. The path of sin with its thorns and pitfalls, its gins and snares can be revealed, and how to shun it. The Lord knows all things; man should know all things pertaining to this life, and to obtain this knowledge, it is right that he should use every feasible means; and I do not hesitate to say that the stage can, in a great degree, be made to subserve this end.”

Know Your Limits

Regardless of the benefits of horror, which can come for some individuals, the research also indicates that for those who have previously existing types of psychological or PTSD disorders, watching horror films can act as triggers and cause major setbacks in their recovery. It is clear that gender, circumstances, age, sensitivities, and an array of other considerations should be taken into account when engaging in this level of intense storytelling. 

Additionally, just because a story or film was helpful once does not mean it will be equally beneficial upon rewatch. We need different stories at different times in life, and a constant dose of horror is rarely what anyone needs. Moderation and thoughtfulness in our entertainment choices require ongoing discernment between oneself and the Lord. The spirit, intent, and thought we bring to these stories often determine whether they’re helpful or harmful, oftentimes far more than the content itself ever could. 

Discernment

In the wake of the new For Strength of Youth pamphlet and many other modern revelations, it is clear the Lord is placing a profound trust in His saints. This is a call to a higher and holier life, one that is concentrated on revelation, covenants, and celestial principles over mosaic law-like checklists of dos and don’ts.

Brigham Young, when opening the Salt Lake City Theater, challenged the strict views on entertainment that condemned activities like theater or dance simply because “the wicked assemble” there. Young believed these forms of entertainment were vital for uplifting the spirit and strengthening the body, lamenting that many had suffered needlessly from the lack of such wholesome outlets.

While Young obviously wasn’t referring to horror stories that we have in our day and age, his advice toward entertainment and the possibility of good can still be applied. My concern is for the saints whose minds and hearts could be uplifted by engaging with the horror genre in meaningful ways. While I admonish you not to force yourself to watch something if the Spirit guides you otherwise, I believe that, when approached with discernment, this genre has the potential to inspire, teach, and strengthen in ways that align with virtuous principles.

Elder Ballard has repeatedly offered a simple yet sure way of discerning what content is or isn’t appropriate to watch by directing us to the teachings of Mormon—a man who himself saw far more horror in this lifetime than anyone perhaps ought to. He says, 

The prophet Mormon said that each of us is given the Spirit of Christ to know good from evil; everything that invites us to do good is of God. On the other hand, anything that persuades us to do evil is of the devil, for he and those who follow him persuade no one to do good. This simple test will guide us in judging television and other media programs.

God does not sanitize our mortal life but rather increases our ability to discern among the terrible and the virtuous from which we need to learn for our immortal progression. Likewise, I warn against sanitizing our stories, and I fear that doing so may lead to dangerous levels of naïveté and unrealistic expectations of happiness and comfort in this life. This practice of sanitizing, more than avoiding these stories altogether, can cause a desensitization towards sin, a blindness to its consequences, and a casualness towards human suffering that leaves us devoid of empathy, potentially leaving individuals incapable of mourning with those who mourn. It is far more valuable to learn how to find happiness, peace, and purpose in spite of the world’s darkness and evil.

Conclusion

Latter-day Saints have a responsibility to seek after virtue, to sift the wheat from the chaff and make from it bread, to shine light in the darkness, and to learn all that the Father yearns for us to know. I hope this Halloween season, if you decide to test your resolve on a horror story you find yourself staring your fears in the face, exorcizing your demons, and freeing your ghosts. I hope that your dread for sin and its consequences sinks deeper in your soul and your heart is lifted by Christ-like examples of courage and virtue in the face of true fear. I encourage you to take the opportunity with every story, whether it be a frightening dream or a ghost tale across the fire, to learn more about the state of your soul, what you fear, and how to overcome it. Horror stories can act as powerful catalysts to the healing and fortifying power of Jesus Christ—He who fears nothing, has overcome all evil and is eager to help you do the same, offering light in the darkest of circumstances and strength in the face of every fear.

The post A Case for Virtuous Fright: Latter-day Saints and the Horror Genre appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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