Can the unseen kill me?: The Psychology Behind Pinoys’ Obsession with Horror

Just as September ends, the annual Filipino excitement for Halloween begins. It's the season we look forward to scaring friends and loved ones with bone-chilling stories of supernatural experiences, and when we recall our favorite urban legends and iconic horror movies.

The Philippines' deep religious nature stems from a powerful combination of historical roots, cultural integration, and the influence of colonization. This profound spiritual engagement with the unseen world is, surprisingly, what also fuels the Filipino passion for fear and the supernatural, as we like seeking the adrenaline rush of seeing something you could only picture in your head.

Pinoy Horror in Filipino Folklores

Pinoy horror taps into fears that have been passed down through generations of oral tradition and cultural caution. It is a genre that thrives on the audience's underlying belief in the very creatures being shown on screen. Mythological folklore creatures like the aswang, manananggal, tikbalang, and tiyanak are images that every Filipino is familiar with. Ever since we were old enough to understand fear, these creatures have been part of our collective consciousness.

Lolo warns us about the kapre that might be lurking on top of a tall tree–watching us while smoking cigars. Nanay and tatay remind us to say “tabi-tabi po” whenever we pass or step on an anthill so that we don’t anger the duwendes, who are–as they say—the true owners of land. The whispers that circulate whenever a pregnant woman suffers a sudden miscarriage in a remote province where the local folk often attribute these tragedies not to natural causes, but to the nocturnal workings of the manananggal, or the broader predatory actions of the aswang, who are believed to feast on the unborn.

This brings us to our main topic–Pinoys’ obsession with horror. Why do Filipinos, despite their deep-seated beliefs in the supernatural and the constant cultural cautions surrounding the unseen world, willingly subject themselves to fear for entertainment?  

Blurred Line Between Fear and Reality

Unlike Pinoy horror, Western horror is largely viewed through a lens of fiction, where the audience can distinguish scenes that they know cannot happen in real life. On the other hand, Pinoy horror feels inherently possible because the monsters we hear about are part of our folklore and culture that has been passed down by family.

The idea of vampires in Western horror culture, despite their frequent representation in media–there is still a mutual knowledge from the audience that the existence of vampires are unlikely–it is a fantasy made up by people… unless we actually see a person that sparkles like Edward Cullen in the sun and is freakishly fast when running.

In the Philippines, when the Filipino audience sees a representation of creatures like manananggal on screen, it’s hard not to imagine the possibility of it happening in real life. Most of us have been genuinely warned about it, which transforms a movie scene into an actual threat. In addition to this, many people have also reported sightings of these urban-legend creatures which we cannot prove if it’s real or not… one thing we know that is real is the fear. 

The success of Pinoy horror can be attributed to this genuine fear. It is not simply entertainment—it is a cultural phenomenon that straddles the line between the fantastical and the hauntingly real aspects of the Philippines, making sure the darkness lingers and the echoes of the whispers hold significance long after the film is over.

Religious Context

Catholicism and Christianity also influence fear. If you were born in a practicing religious family, the idea of the devil and the concept of multo was instilled in you at a young age.

There is great comfort in believing that a loved one who has passed away remains with us in spirit. Consequently, the sudden appearance of a butterfly is a significant event, often prompting our mothers to point out that it is our relative who is '”nagpaparamdam.”

In contrast to this, while Catholicism and Christianity teaches us love and forgiveness, its imagery is frequently exploited in horror to weaponize concepts of guilt and punishment.

One primary example of this is the iconic Filipino horror movie “Seklusyon”. This movie centers on a ritual observed by aspiring priests (deacons) who must spend seven days in isolation—a period believed to be when the devil's temptation is strongest, to prevent them from entering the priesthood.

This duality characterizes Filipino horror: it reveals a reality where warm, family-oriented folklore intertwines with eerie, cautionary tales of Catholicism, crafting a one-of-a-kind ethereal realm where the sacred and the horrifying continuously intertwine, solidifying fear as a core and undeniable element of the Pinoy experience.

Escapism and Reality Evasion

It is widely known that the situation in the Philippines can bring out the same anxiety and fear that we feel when watching scary movies. 

Watching films is some people’s way of escaping reality. There are people that watch horror to convince themselves that they would rather live their reality where poverty and corruption are rampant than live in a world where a ghost is haunting them.

The fear from movies can only last a short time, however, real-life anxiety can last for a lifetime. When watching horror, we are in control of what we want to see or when we want to stop watching the scares. We can cover our eyes and our ears, we can play blind and deaf–unlike in real-life where we are forced to see the more terrifying non-fictional tragedies in our lives. 

We shift our focus from insurmountable societal problems to solvable movie plots. And maybe this is one of the reasons why we get stupidly mad when a character in a movie checks the dark basement where a scratching sound is coming from, because if this was a true-to-life situation that is happening to us, we wouldn't dare to peek. 

We can all combine all sinister creatures, but nothing is scarier than reality–especially those who are sitting in power makes sure that you’ll have a hard time trying to find the solution to the plot of your life.

To some, being obsessed with horror is simply because of the rush of adrenaline and dopamine—the safe thrill-seeking encounter with peril. For others, it fills a deeper role as a means of emotional regulation and offers catharsis as one practices facing fear, but in a controlled setting.

And so, the success of Filipino horror is not from a single common cultural reason, but rather how it gives, and sometimes succeeds, to fully capture a contingent and even contradictory range of psychological reasons. This is how the heartbeat of fear may resonate in a unique and, most of all, meaningful way for each audience member in the Philippines.

The fear that horror inflicts on us won't actually kill us; it's a controlled experience, and even though we might be obsessed with it, we are not at risk of real danger. It's enjoyable and thrilling to engage with something. That essential line between the intense physical feeling of fear and the ability to hold onto rational thought, yet keep a cautious distance from the very figures of folklore we were warned about as children—is what makes the genre so uniquely pleasurable and enjoyable in the Philippines.

We enjoy the spectacle of danger without having to pay the ultimate price.

Article: Denise Angela Ofilada

Graphics: Kent Bicol