Besides these too-obvious genres, there are several films that I can't watch/rewatch, even though I kind of want to. Kind of, but not really.
1. American History X (Tony Kaye, 1998)
This one is pretty straightforward - that pivotal curb-stomp scene scarred me for life. Up until watching American History X I had remained blissfully unaware of this completely fucked up way of torturing/killing a human being. I think the reason why it's so particularly nasty is that it utilises our everyday environment in an unbelievably cruel and imaginative manner. And the human head is so fragile, and it has so many teeth, and the concrete is so unforgiving - OK, it's making me nauseous just thinking about it again. Stop.
It was billed as a film about skinheads, redemption and Edward Norton, so I wasn't expecting anything too graphic when I popped the VCD in (yes... a long time ago) and pressed play. I think the rest of the movie was pretty good and there were some funny moments in the making-friends-with-the-black-guy-while-in-prison subplot, but frankly I can't remember much of anything beyond that mind-searing, brutal scene. Ugh. Still feeling sick.
2. Empire of the Sun (Steven Spielberg, 1987)
I remember just being utterly destroyed by Empire of the Sun's gloomy scenes and the idea it introduced - children could be accidentally separated from their parents, and nobody would care! Thanks to Christian Bale's acting debut, I started having nightmares about being similarly abandoned, from which I would wake sobbing and dry heaving. My mother tried to comfort me after I recounted one of these dreams. Patting my back as I choked on my tears, she said, "We wouldn't leave you behind!"
I replied, crying afresh, "You didn't want to, but you couldn't help it."
3. Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer, 2013)
Some of the worst scenes involve the alien's scarred, mutilated body, the attempted rape (oops, spoiler) and the truly horrific scenes of obese, castrated, tongueless (I think?) men destined to be prime rib or whatever for rich aliens. The book really beats you over the head with the roles-reversed metaphor - yes, I get it, industrial meat-raising practices are bad and evil. But on top of the heavy-handed moralising, it adds a bleak ending that makes you go, I slogged all the way through these pages for this?
I've read that the movie is less graphic than the book - more atmospheric and arty, I suppose - but I'm not willing to risk it. Not even Jonathan Glazer can tempt me.
4. Her (Spike Jonze, 2013)
OK, I actually just watched this. It's so beautiful, I love the golden smog and Shanghai skyline settling gently over the LA exteriors, it's amazing that no blue was used throughout and the actors are all very good. Even the Arcade Fire managed to hold back on the annoying twee-ness and contributed a decent soundtrack. I can imagine film students of the future analysing Her to death and writing hundreds of pages just on the look of it alone. Loved that adorably foul-mouthed little alien, too.
But I don't think I can make myself sit through it again, because listening to Theodore Twombly's monologues about his divorce and the mistakes he made with his wife was just too much. It was like listening in on someone's therapy through thin walls. Like so many online commentators have pointed out, Her comes across like it's Spike Jonze's belated response to Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation, a touted photograph of their marriage prior to breaking down. Not so cute anymore, huh?
If Her had been a he-said, she-said retort - something a little more mean-spirited, angrier - it would have been endurable, but the movie is a sincere apology, a melancholy acknowledgement of how 'we grew up together' and the utter loneliness of walking away from that connection. It's super uncomfortable to watch, especially when bloody Joaquin Phoenix goes all out to make it believable. I mean, I already believe it's true! Stop making me feel your pain, goddammit.