"The Babadook and Maternal Depression"

Source: Jacobsen, Pamela. "Eye on Fiction: The Babadook and Maternal Depression." Psychologist 29.11 (2016): 1-3. EBSCOhost. Web. 3 March 2017.

Summary: 
This short article offers a brief summary of the Babadook and provides insight into the manifestation of certain psychological phenomena that the author observes in the film. The author’s stated argument is that horror films often portray psychologically difficult situations in a more realistic and non-judgmental way than many inspirational mainstream films (Jacobsen 1).

Quality: 
A great strength of this source is the author’s distinctive perspective on the Babadook. Not only is she a long-time horror buff, but she has medical insight into the genre. She recalls, “I have watched a lot of horror movies in my life…the first movie my father ever took my mother to when they were dating was Carrie (dir. Brian De Palma, 1976)...Since becoming a mental health professional, it’s perhaps natural that I’ve become more attuned to depictions of mental health problems in the horror genre” (1). This family history, combined with her expertise as a “mental health professional” has allowed her to see patterns of mental health issues in the film such as suppression and denial of feelings. These may not be obvious to others untrained observers. She notes, “[Emilia] is shown to be frustrated and angry towards her son; unacceptable feelings that she can only suppress and deny for so long (2).

Issues: 
This is a good source, as far as it goes. It provides interesting insights and has many citations to back up its key assertions; however, it is a little short. Some psychological phenomena in the film could bear greater scrutiny. For example Jacobsen observes:

[Some] scenes also brought to mind the concept of ambiguous loss…A child with a depressed or traumatised parent experiences an ambiguous loss, because the parent is physically present but emotionally absent. Ambiguous losses disrupt normal grieving processes and prevents any sense of closure…(sic)”

Here, the author has assumed that the reader is conversant with the terms “normal grieving process” and “closure.” A little more detail about these terms as well as scenes from the film in which they play out could give curious readers more insight into Jacobsen’s interesting observations.

Key Words and Phrases
Trauma, depression, closure, grieving, prototype, ambiguous loss, taboo stigma, attachment, horror, Babadook, monster

Useful Quotes:
Since becoming a mental health professional, it’s perhaps natural that I’ve become more attuned to depictions of mental health problems in the horror genre. Indeed, although horror films are often regarded as being of rather low cultural value, I’ve often found they depict complex ideas about psychological distress and mental health difficulties through the use of metaphors in a very accurate and non-stigmatising way (sic) (1).

…the comfort and familiarity of daily rituals are perverted and hijacked by
an increasing sense of dread and violation (1).

The Babadook is a prototypical monster – shadowy and indistinct, half-human,
half-animal with a black hat and cape as ghoulish props (1).

When Sam is screaming and shouting, when he disobeys her, gets into trouble at
school, when he constantly wakes her up at night looking for reassurance, she is shown to be frustrated and angry towards her son; unacceptable feelings that she can only suppress and deny for so long (2).

Sam seems only too aware of the emotional unavailability of his mother during her darkest times, whilst also showing a wisdom beyond his years, in somehow being able to separate his mother from her affliction, saying ‘I know you don’t love me Mum – the Babadook won’t let you (2).

The Babadook cannot be simply ignored or shut up for ever, though – further care and attention is needed. In the closing scenes, we see Amelia presenting food to the Babadook in the basement, in a surprisingly tender way. In an interesting role reversal, the Babadook appears to be the one who is scared and roars back at Amelia. She recognises its fear and pain, and responds not by retreating, but instead approaching the monster with soothing words and gestures in an effort to comfort it. This is a rather moving scene, and seemed consistent with the work of Paul Gilbert and colleagues on compassion-focused therapy, which encourage us in part to try to befriend our inner critics and demons and to understand the messages they are bringing us, rather than fruitlessly battling to eliminate them altogether (Gilbert, 2009) (sic) (2).