Editorials

Exploring the Cosmic Horror of ‘The Beach House’

February 14th, 2024 | By Becca Johnson

Secluded location. Strange intruders. A relaxing trip gone wrong. These are all familiar traits in the horror genre that we’ve seen explored in many ways. However, the road that The Beach House takes viewers down is unexpected, frightening, and highly unique, using popular methods of terror infliction to explore its main theme: cosmic horror. A feature debut by director Jeffrey A. Brown, The Beach House follows couple Emily (Liana Liberato) and Randall (Noah Le Gros) on a romantic getaway that soon turns into a struggle for survival. With strange luminescence in the sea and a thick fog encasing the characters, their surrounding environment quickly begins to exhibit signs of a mysterious infection.

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Events seem ten times scarier when you’re isolated, and The Beach House knows this. It heavily relies on isolation and alienation, placing our characters in a remote location from the get-go. Though they’re together, we quickly learn that Emily and Randall don’t always see eye to eye, which makes them feel all the more alone. But the clever camerawork — slow zooms on empty hallways and beaches — soon suggests the isolation may run deeper than we think. This looming sense of dread is heightened further when Emily heads downstairs to find a stranger lurking — soon realizing the older couple they discover may need to stick around. 

Things kick into gear over dinner when the two couples run out of wine early and decide to take something a little more stimulating — this serves as the catalyst for the cosmic horror. When the characters notice a strange blue luminescence in the sea and trees, and a fog begins to emerge, the tranquillity of the setting is disturbed. Biologist Emily knows that what they’re seeing in their surroundings isn’t quite right, but could it just be the drugs? Her scientific knowledge clashes with what she can see, and the unknown quickly becomes the main source of fear, as it’s hard for Emily to differentiate between reality and imagination. 

If what she’s seeing is really happening, they could be in danger. This fear of the unknown showcases classic elements of cosmic horror, where the incomprehensible and uncontrollable aspects of the universe inspire dread in the characters. The otherworldly occurrences ramp up the tension; terror is paired with cosmic eco-horror in a way that both exceeds and subverts each mode of the genre. The intrusion of cosmic forces into the natural environment not only threatens the characters’ safety but also challenges their perception of reality and what they know to be true. 

Even when the cosmic theme is in full swing, The Beach House still appeals to its audience with perhaps the most familiar trait of all: body horror. As our characters explore the location — and the guests become infected by the mysterious virus — the visuals become more gnarly by the second. The body horror is unapologetically graphic in approach, with scenes of skin lesions, physical transformations, and decay. The most memorable scene features Emily, played wonderfully by Liberato, prying a large worm from inside her foot. These scenes are not just there for the shock factor; they masterfully symbolize the corruption and intrusion of the outside elements into our characters. What’s happening to their location is now happening to them. 

This corruption shows how utterly helpless they are, putting a spotlight on the vulnerability of humanity. It also explores the popular cosmic horror trait of existential dread and the fears surrounding mortality and fragility. Corruption of the body — an extremely important theme of the movie — also parallels the corruption and decay we are seeing in our natural ecosystem. By juxtaposing cosmic horror with the visceral imagery of body horror, the film achieves a disturbing and profoundly unsettling atmosphere. Bodily corruption plays a huge role in the movie, enriching the film’s thematic exploration, complexity, and emotional resonance while also delivering visceral shocks to the audience.

The Beach House works as a cautionary tale, as protecting our environment becomes a more frequent topic of conversation as the years progress. The environmental changes and bodily corruption in the narrative reflect issues we are seeing in the real world today: pollution, climate change, and nature becoming unpredictable. By the film’s climax, our characters have lost complete control; the unknown entities they are faced with are causing hallucinations, and the lines are beginning to blur.

This acts as a mirror to reality, highlighting the consequences of negligence and the dangers behind disregarding our ecosystem. Our characters feel too unwell to fend for themselves and get to safety, which may be trying to tell us that it’s too little too late. Once the damage has been done, it is irreversible. Rather than overtly preaching to its audience, it subtly prompts us to contemplate what it may be telling us. Cosmic horror is used masterfully here to invite viewers to confront the existential dread and uncertainty present in our relationship with the environment — it’s not just a storytelling vessel.

Fans of cosmic flicks need not fear — The Beach House still has all the qualities of the genre that make it unique. Trippy scenes and visuals are a technique that cosmic horrors often feature, and here, the camerawork utilizes unconventional framing, slow tracking shots, plenty of close-ups, and manipulation of colors and depth of field. This serves to portray how our character’s perception is distorted; everything is not quite how it should be. Otherworldly elements are included, which are present in the changes in the environment, pointing to something unknown and foreign. It explores Lovecraftian themes with its focus on the incomprehensible.

Cosmic horror is often a genre completely unto itself, yet what makes The Beach House stand out is how it mixes the familiar with the unknown. Gore, remote locations, a relationship in turmoil, and home invaders are more conventional horror narratives, but pairing them with cosmic tropes —  strange organisms, a mysterious infection, existential dread — introduces a deeper message that forces us to think outside the box. The result is something utterly unique — a glorious genre-bend. Not only does that make The Beach House one of the more accessible cosmic horrors, but it showcases how familiar genre conventions can combine to create something otherworldly and thought-provoking.