Jacob’s Ladder (Adrian Lyne, 1990)

Imagine if David Fincher directed Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind

Jacob’s Ladder is a great film. But is it a great horror film? Do just a little research and you’ll find that there is considerable consensus that it is.

I’m not here to disagree with that prevailing sentiment, though I would caution hardcore horror movie fans against any preconceived notions of style or content, as there is certainly an argument to be made that Jacob’s Ladder might fit more neatly in the niche of a psychological drama that borrows heavily from the horror genre.

Not that I wish to get bogged down in rules of categorization, but I feel this preamble is necessary to temper any potential disappointment caused by misplaced expectations.

Jacob’s Ladder is a great example of the sentiment that horror is a genre without borders. Horror can be almost anything. It can take a variety of shapes and forms. Horror allows for the exploration of virtually any topic or theme.

So, in that sense, yes, Jacob’s Ladder is absolutely a great horror film.

The film focuses on the titular Jacob: a Vietnam vet now working for the Post Office in New York City. He’s living with his girlfriend and, aside from regularly seeing a chiropractor for recurring back pain, he seems happy enough. But it’s not just the trauma of war that he’s got buried away in his psyche, he’s also grieving the loss of a son from his previous marriage.

And he’s seeing things that aren’t really there... A homeless man sleeping on the subway appears to have a tail. Creepy faces stare out of windows at him. A crazed driver chases him down an alleyway.

Slowly but surely, reality is coming unstuck.

This is gritty kitchen sink realism with goopy horror elements ever so slowly dripping in. Its horror is so rooted in this lowkey, Hollywood-verité reality that it doesn’t necessarily register as outright horror. And yet, it is unnerving. It is disturbing. It is scary.

Jacob’s visions get worse and he starts to freak out in public. But it turns out that he’s not alone. Following the death of a comrade from the war, he discovers that other members of his unit have been suffering from similar experiences, leading them to believe that something more sinister is afoot.

Imagine if David Fincher directed Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind. That’s the sort of vibe that’s going on here.

There are also well-deployed religious references. The very title, Jacob’s Ladder, is itself a nod to a story in the book of Genesis. Elsewhere, there are various mentions of angels and demons, plus a conversation centered around the “church names” Jacob and his ex-wife gave to their kids.

But Jacob’s Ladder doesn’t depend on its audience’s religious belief to be either frightening or meaningful. Rather, it uses notions of spirituality to add texture and articulate a deeper sense of ambiguity regarding the friction of reality and fantasy at play.

To say anymore would be judged as spoilerific, so I will instead urge you to seek out this film at your earliest convenience. Go in with an open mind that’s as blank a slate as possible, and simply let the movie go to work on you.