I have never been scared after watching a movie. In fact, I usually chuckle to myself at the absurdities of "horror" films while others turn in disgust.

Sure, I may get startled when I see Michael Myers kill another innocent victim, but when leaving the theater I am usually just as happy as when I entered. Horror movies are usually so far fetched and removed from what society deems the "real world" that while suspense and a brief thrill is possible (such as in "What Lies Beneath"), lasting fear is not. What is really scary is what cannot be explained or believed.

As proclaimed in "The Usual Suspects," the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. Genuine fear results from the unimaginable; it is something that leaves us with no explanations or relief.

In movies, this fear can be captured at times, but there is always a moral or resolution at the end — a silver lining.

After all, if this was not the case, viewers would be left unsatisfied and looking for answers.

But in life there isn't always an answer or resolution. In the novel "The Things They Carried," author Tim O'Brien explores this concept, relating it to his stories in the Vietnam War. The real war stories, he argues, are those that do not have a clear moral or answer. They are far more complex. They are beautiful, mysterious, horrific, triumphant, brutal and exhilarating. In the end, the only thing left to say about a true war story is: "Oh."

It can be said that one particular movie portraying this characteristic is "Apocalypse Now." Its story does not have a silver lining nor does it allow an apparent meaning at the end. But it captures the emotion of the Vietnam War and examines the varying degrees of evil amongst us all.

Lots of people said that last week's tragic events "felt like a movie."

Perhaps in our search for answers and meaning we tried to relate what happened to some sort of plot with a resolution.

When I asked my friends how they were doing, many could not put it into words. We felt pain, anguish and shock. We felt loss. We felt fear. There was not much to say at the time — no explanation or finger pointing would suffice. We came together in faith and just being with one another provided a sense of comfort.

There still aren't any answers. As we seek to punish the enemy, more questions arise. And more fear. I cannot imagine how someone could do this. Perhaps the lack of long term answers is the scariest thing of all. Terrorism, as the name suggests, is based on terror. No logic can stop it, and going to war could quite possibly make it worse.

In movies, plot developments lead to a climax, then to a resolution. Resolutions can present truths in life, but they ultimately fail to capture what actually happens in the real world.

In today's society there is more than simple good versus evil, or right and wrong. The political landscape is far too complex to comprehend. There is nothing right about destroying innocent lives, but equally nothing right in not hunting down the guilty parities.

Perhaps the reason I like movies so much is because I can escape from the problem's of everyday life, even if just for a couple hours. At the moment I'm still sifting through my own fears and worries, ultimately trying to search for the deeper meaning behind it all.

I guess I am looking for the story, perhaps a story that simply doesn't exist. Genuine fear results from the unimaginable. It is something that leaves us with no explanation or relief. My ideal world would have no acts of violence, prejudice, or oppressive regimes of any shape. And there would always be a silver lining.

Contact Liam Dacey at wdacey@nd.edu.

The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

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