[Editorial] Cherish Your Life: Comfort in the SAW Franchise Throughout and Beyond the COVID-19 Pandemic

This essay was originally published in Hear Us Scream: The Voices of Horror Volume II (2022).

I was aware of the COVID-19 pandemic before I knew that’s what it would be called, and before it ever affected me personally. My husband is always on top of world events, and in late 2019, he explained what was happening around the globe. It was a Friday night, we were out for dinner and drinks with another couple. The four of us got together every Friday, to relax and shake off the week. I had no idea how much our lives, let alone this weekly ritual, were about to be disrupted. In late January 2020, we started preparing for the pandemic in earnest. We took inventory of our food, our dog’s food, and other household supplies. We gassed up our cars and changed the oil. We withdraw cash from the bank. In those early days, there was so little information about the virus, and we wanted to be ready for anything. Though some of our friends weren’t as concerned as we were, no one questioned our caution. My husband is immunocompromised, and the threat of COVID-19 was vague but ominous. We were taking no chances. On March 12th 2020, both our workplaces sent everyone home to work remotely “for just a couple of weeks until this all blows over.” I had a feeling it would be longer than a couple of weeks, but I didn’t know how long. Do you remember that feeling? That helpless, in-the-dark feeling? When information was changing rapidly, disinformation was even easier to find, and no one really knew what to do?

In April of 2020, my brain seemed to hit a wall and it couldn’t process anything more. I just wanted to retreat to a comfortable and safe corner of my world. I work in education, and so after a day of serving others, I didn’t have much energy left. I wanted to walk my dog, order takeout, and binge horror movies. On a whim, I bought the Saw Blu Ray box set. I wanted something gory and violent, but not too bleak. I needed a distraction. I loved the first two Saw films Saw (2004) and Saw II (2005), and I had seen the third and fourth, but barely remembered them. I hadn’t seen any of the later sequels. It was decided: I would marathon the franchise, and it would give me a short-term goal, something to look forward to. Even if I ended up hating the movies, it was something.

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I did not expect to fall so completely in love with the Saw franchise, and to find such an emotional connection with the films. I watched the entire series over and over; losing count of how many times I had the movies on in the background. As I had hoped, I found comfort in the gory traps and twisted plots. But I was also surprised at how much the films made me think. They prompted me to process the different ways individuals value their own lives and the lives of others. They gave me space to feel frustration about the unfairness of disease and death, and how much our will to live matters, or does not matter. The films allowed me to consider what it means to place someone’s needs above your own, and when you should put yourself first. I went in looking for some mind candy. What I got was a way to work through my ongoing depression and anxiety.

“Right now, you’re feeling helpless.” 

-Detective Mark Hoffmann, Saw V (2008)

It’s early days in the pandemic. I wake up, put on clean sweatpants, and open my work laptop at my makeshift desk. Just like I did the last several days. I open the news sites. Everything is somehow the same but also worse. More people are sick, dying, and dead. Everyone is getting either sadder and quieter, or angrier and louder. I don’t know where I fit. I want to cry but I don’t have the energy. I sip my coffee and try to focus on work; my students are counting on me. 

I have never felt as helpless as I had during the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. I knew there were so many people in danger, and so little I could do about it. I felt like all I could do was stay home and keep out of the way. My anxiety was overflowing and I had nowhere to put it. The constant stress alternating with boredom made me feel as though I was losing authority over my thoughts and mind. I needed to keep my brain sharp and accomplish a task. 

If you are familiar with the plot and timeline of the Saw films, you know there is plenty to occupy a mind. Because these films are often dismissed, even by other horror fans, I hadn't heard or read much discussion on them, and therefore didn’t realize how plot-heavy they actually are. There is a consistent story that carries throughout the first eight films, but it’s a product of ret-conning and it has evolved over time, rather than being planned from the start. What that amounts to is a timeline and a cast of characters that is so convoluted, and potentially confusing, you need a conspiracy-style string board to track everything. Turns out, this was great for my mental health. When I felt like my brain was getting foggy, I could focus on the timeline of events in the Saw films, and look for inconsistencies or patterns, analyzing every character’s decisions. In the early pandemic, the world was full of bad surprises every time I checked the news. But the Saw films offered lots of fun surprises, and it was exciting to wonder what would happen next. When I had eventually watched all the films, and I couldn’t be surprised anymore, I settled into a cozy feeling, and turned to Saw when I needed to know what was coming next. In a time when it felt like the world was changing constantly and I couldn’t keep up, the Saw timeline became a comfortable familiarity.

"The rules of our game have been made very clear. You need to abide by those rules." 

- Jigsaw, Saw III (2006)

Should we be wiping down groceries? Where can we buy toilet paper this week? Do masks work or not? Should I wear a mask when I walk my dog? What are the rules and how do I follow them? Why isn’t everyone trying to follow the rules? Every moment is full of sadness and fear and too many decisions. I can’t take it anymore, but I don’t have a choice. Work’s done for the day so I pour a couple of fingers of bourbon. I maybe should slow down on the nightly bourbons, but with everything going on, who can blame me? Thank goodness the local liquor store does curbside pickup.  

I felt a sense of order slipping away from the world. In addition to the pandemic, America was in the midst of a political storm. We were trying to reckon with racial injustice, systemic policing problems, and the most contentious presidential election of my lifetime. Friends and families were turning on each other, and the isolation wasn’t helping us come together as a nation. 

I craved order and rules. I wanted a set of instructions to follow — I am great at following instructions! And we were provided with some guidance— socially distance, wash our hands, wear our masks —although it was hard to keep up with the different versions of the rulebook. Changes in the virus itself and discoveries by scientists meant what we were told to do yesterday was no longer necessary today. On top of that, there were some who didn’t want to try and follow the rules. It was devastating to look around my world and see such selfishness, so much disregard for the lives of others. 

Saw presents a world of rules. I don’t agree with Jigsaw’s approach, but he is a man of his word. If his victims listen carefully and follow instructions, they can survive. It was soothing to watch a world where rules were laid out clearly, and one in which there were consequences to ignoring the rules. Often, Jigsaw’s traps require the victims to work together for survival. It was heartening to cheer for a group of people to work together, when that was all that I wanted from the world at the time. I needed to see a world in which it was possible to work together and try to survive. In Jigsaw’s world, as in our own, one’s actions affect others. That idea is depicted so simply in the Saw films, it helped me process the more complicated world around me when I turned off the TV.

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"You're probably wondering where you are. I'll tell you where you might be. You might be in the room you die in." 

- Jigsaw, Saw (2004)

Lately I cry at random. How long will this go on? My best friend is a pharmacist, will she be ok? My mom, my brother, my husband, my in-laws, will they be ok? How long before someone I know dies of COVID? What if someone I love is in the hospital, and I can’t be with them? 

To my surprise, the Saw films offer thoughtful criticism of medical care and health insurance in America. Saw VI (2009) applies close focus and commentary on American health insurance, and how the systems place a cold calculation on the monetary value of someone’s life. I did not know this would be a focus of the film, and I was surprised and found it cathartic to watch an unfair system get ripped apart, at least on screen. Other films in the series have more subtle commentary. Jill Tuck, Jigsaw’s wife, runs a community health clinic. It’s never plainly stated, but the viewer can infer that her clinic serves people who otherwise would not receive health care. Addiction and mental illness are themes in many of the films, and while these issues aren’t always portrayed kindly, the pain and trauma that can stem from them is clear. In Jigsaw (2017), the eighth film in the franchise, it’s revealed that John’s cancer could have been caught sooner, if not for an honest mistake by an overworked medical professional. This was a poignant point during the pandemic, as medical facilities were overcrowded and staff worked unreasonable hours because there was no other choice to keep patients alive. 

I didn’t realize how much anxiety I was feeling about being able to get care if we needed it, and what our health insurance may or may not have covered. I was worried about being able to accompany my husband to the hospital. If he had to go to the hospital, I was worried there wouldn’t be enough beds. The Saw movies gave me a safe-haven to realize and handle my frustrations and anxieties on the topic of health care. 

Throughout the pandemic, we have been surrounded by death and dying. I wasn’t too worried for myself, since my risk was low. But I was constantly distracted by the fear of my loved ones dying. Death is not a welcome topic in most polite conversations, but I needed to process. When working through something dark or painful, I lean all the way into it. The Saw films presented the perfect bloody pool for diving headfirst into my fears. Jigsaw says he tests his victims to see their reaction when faced with death, to strengthen their will to live. Stories about fearing death, grieving, and surviving — these were exactly the stories I didn’t know I needed at the time. 

"How You Play The Cards You're Dealt Is All That Matters." 

- Jigsaw, Saw IV (2007)

The most remarkable result of my arbitrary decision to watch the Saw films is that I found my way into the horror community. I have been a dedicated horror fan my whole life, but it has mostly been a personal, and sometimes lonely, hobby. After I finished the Saw franchise, I had a slew of thoughts I needed to deal with, and I began to write. I was writing for myself, but I ended up with an article I was proud of, and I sent in my first pitch to Ghouls Magazine. A little over a year later, I am thriving as a horror writer, and I have found my place in a supportive and lively horror community.

I don’t agree with Jigsaw’s assertion that “most people are so ungrateful to be alive” (Saw).  I am grateful to be alive, and I know we have lost so many in this pandemic who were also grateful.  As I write this paragraph, the pandemic is ongoing, but this is life, right now, for as long as it lasts. I still have a lot to be grateful for. 

I have decided to heed the advice of Jill’s health clinic, “Cherish your life.” My life is happening now, and I cherish it. I am trying my best to focus on what I can control, and some days, that may only be the decision of which movies to watch. It’s ok to stay entertained, and try to stay happy, even when the world is falling apart around you. 

I settle into my comfortable nest of blankets. Jigsaw never changes, Billy the Puppet is always there for me. The rules of the world are clear and there are consequences for not following them. The violence is cathartic, and the grief mirrors my own. 

“Let me give you the simple version. You will keep him alive, whatever it takes. No excuses, no equivocations, no crying.”

- Amanda, SAW III (2006)

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