Maybe the aversion some viewers have to both is a fear of losing control: of laughing so hard you snort or having to turn away in fright, of embarrassing yourself. What scares people, and makes them laugh, says even more see “Ready or Not,” “Bodies Bodies Bodies,” or “What We Do in the Shadows.” These two genres, horror and comedy, are those most often expected to provoke an immediate, visceral reaction from audiences.

What scares people says a lot about them, as the debates about “Get Out,” “Men,” and similar politically charged titles have revealed. Viewers forget all the time that, as Anna Karina’s “Pierrot Le Fou” character Marianne Renoir says: “There can be ideas in feelings.” How can movies that fire your adrenal glands, send shivers down your spine, raise goosebumps, and quicken your breath - that inspire such an intense physical reaction - also be cerebral experiences? The answer is obvious enough. The idea is that these exceptions to the “horror is bad” rule engage your brain more than just showing brains: eaten by zombies or splattered against the wall. But even now the specter of “elevated horror” (see that concept’s lambasting in “Scream 5″) looms over discussions of artier explorations of dread and terror - Ari Aster’s “Midsommar,” Luca Guadagnino’s “Suspiria,” Rose Glass’ “Saint Maud” - that are clearly distinguished from, well, non-elevated horror.

In this age of geekery and craft reigning supreme, film critics and academics no longer dismiss horror movies with the knee-jerk regularity some once did.

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