Pet Sematary, at least at the time Stephen King wrote his 2001 introduction, was the most frightening book he’d written, according to the author. He explains that for any parent the death of a child is perhaps the most traumatic event they might ever face. The only thing worse would be if s/he came back to life, not him- or herself. Two major films were made based on this novel, one in 1989, directed by Mary Lambert and a second in 2019 by Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer. Resurrection is a frightening idea. It claws out of the ground of religion.
The entire premise of resurrection, to those in the western hemisphere, derives from Christian teaching. Among the many movie monsters, two revenants in particular—the resurrected and the zombie—inspire a special fear. Is it because religion tells us that at least the former is actually possible? Horror derives much of its energy from the fear of death, and the living dead of either stripe have religious origins and cross boundaries that are carefully guarded.
The first modern zombie emerges in the cemetery in Romero’s Night of the Living Dead
Zombies as the undead, although not named such in the film, lumbered onto the silver screen with George Romero’s 1968 classic, Night of the Living Dead. Explained vaguely as the result of a radioactive response from a space probe, the real terror was learning how to kill those already dead. They had resurrected. Before long zombies became a standard feature of horror and their origins, like the resurrected in Pet Sematary, derive from a religious tradition.
The word zombie, likely based on a West African word for “god,” appears in English only in the nineteenth century. Awareness of its association with voodoo (another standard horror trope) dates to the 1929 travelogue of W. B. Seabrooke titled The Magic Island. It didn’t take long for the brainless to enter horror, as White Zombie (1932) demonstrates. The zombies there, however, were enslaved living persons, not the dead returned. Cinematically that would have to wait for Romero’s game-changing film. Nevertheless, the origins of the zombie were from the fusion of indigenous West African religion and the enforced Christianity of the new world. An explanation for this origin even appeared in the horror movie based on the nonfiction book by anthropologist Wade Davis, The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988). Zombies have come a long way since then, but their origins derive from vodun (popularly, “voodoo”).
Pet Sematary‘s burial ground
Stephen King’s brand of resurrection is also a blend of Christianity and indigenous religion. The eponymous pet sematary with its resurrecting power is on Mi’kmaq burial ground. A ritualistic burial in that particular location will lead to the Christian-inspired hope of resurrection. This is horror film, however, so of course things go wrong. The resurrected aren’t really themselves and the living are faced with the problem raised by George Romero—how do you kill someone who’s already dead? More questions arise. If you’ve brought them back to life, would it be wrong to kill them again? Is it murder to kill someone who died accidentally and is then resurrected?
A standard joke among some religious scholars is to treat the most famous biblical resurrection, that of Jesus, as zombification. “Zombie Jesus,” is often thrown around as a meme for getting literalists’ goats. Interestingly, some of this fear is reflected in the New Testament itself. Jesus was more than once mistaken for a ghost, and the raising of Lazarus from the dead was accompanied by a palpable fear among the bystanders. This is dangerous territory, bringing the dead back.
Stephen King plays a revered in Mary Lambert’s Pet Sematary
Lambert’s 1989 film adaptation of Pet Sematary follows King’s novel fairly closely. Since King wrote the screenplay this isn’t surprising. He even has a cameo in it, ironically, as a minister. The Creed family (note the name: a creed is a summation of religious belief) has moved next to a busy road in rural Maine. First the Creeds’ cat Church (again, note the name) is resurrected but clearly is not himself. This doesn’t prevent Louis Creed from trying again when his young son Gage is killed by a tanker on the truck-infested road before the house. Able to overcome his revived son, Louis has to re-kill the child he loves. The 2019 version shifts the plot a bit, having Ellie, the older daughter, hit by the truck. Brought back to life by her father, she manages to kill both her parents and resurrect them. We’ve almost come to the realm of the zombies here at the final scene.
Here’s a clip from the 2019 Pet Sematary in which Ellie returns from the dead:
The horror of resurrection is nothing new. It was the basis of H. P. Lovecraft’s 1922 story, “Hebert West—Reanimator.” The story was made into the comedy horror film Reanimator by Stuart Gordon in 1985. Again, resurrecting the dead only leads to trouble even though resurrection is a deeply cherished Christian belief. Critics suggest the inspiration for this tale was none other than Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. While not a straight resurrection account, Shelley was well aware of the religious origins of the idea (which she had rejected).
Obviously not all resurrection films can be discussed in the context of one essay, but one other recent example will make the point even more clearly. The Lazarus Effect, while not critically acclaimed, was David Gelb’s 2015 version of the trope. The title of the film, the putative name of the phenomenon of resurrecting, is drawn from the above mentioned raising of Lazarus in the gospel of John. In the film it is an adult woman, Zoe (her name means “life”), who is accidentally killed while working on a procedure that has already successfully resurrected a dead dog. Much more scientific than King’s version, the results are similar. The dog isn’t itself, the chemicals having distorted its brain. When Frank, Zoe’s fiancé, decides to bring her back to life we already know what’s going to happen, at least in broad strokes.
This trailer from The Lazarus Effect hints at the dangers in bringing back the dearly departed:
Funerals, it is commonly said, are for the survivors, not the departed. That’s only partially true. Funereal preparations as far back as ancient Egypt were intended to facilitate the continuation of life. Long before Christianity, or even Judaism, came into existence the Egyptians were doing their best to ensure that at least the most desirable of the dead weren’t locked out of life forever. The preparation wasn’t just for public mourning; it was done with a clear hope for continuation. Resurrection, however, was a belief that slowly developed in Judaism and became a central tenant of its Christian stepchild.
Ghosts had been an ancient fear, but they aren’t resurrected beings. Vampires, however, are. So are zombies. Perhaps beginning with Lovecraft (or Shelley), and brought to mainstream attention by King, the concept of the actual dead—not really zombies, and not in any sense vampires—and the religious idea of their resurrection, became an object of horror. So much so that King himself felt, at one time, that it was his most frightening story. To find its origins, however, we need to look to religion. One of its greatest hopes can also provide one of humanity’s greatest fears.
Steve A. Wiggins is the author of Holy Horror: The Bible and Fear in Movies. His next book, Nightmares with the Bible: The Good Book and Cinematic Demons is due out next year with Lexington Books. He blogs at Sects and Violence in the Ancient World. He he written for Horror Homeroom previously on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Burnt Offerings, Midsommar, Haunting in Connecticut, and The Lighthouse.
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