Who doesn’t love a good horror movie? The rush of adrenaline, the sense of dread- for some people, it’s exhilirating. Humans are obsessed with the unknown. We are afraid of things that we cannot make sense of, like ghosts and demons and deranged white men in masks. It would be easy to write off horror movies as just something to watch when you’re having a sleepover, but, like all art, there is more than meets the eye. Critics of horror movies have pointed out the ways horror has objectified and sexualized women and marginalized and demonized queer people- and they’re right. It is a huge genre, and within it many there are subgenres. For every Hereditary (2018), there’s another Human Centipede (2009). Horror movies are not without their problematic issues. However, to say that horror movies are outright bad and should be “cancelled” isn’t an accurate assessment either. In fact, horror has been used as a vehicle to explore and challenge societal fears. It has been a space to discretely present queer themes. To people who want to completely write off horror movies as exploitative and harmful, I say...
Horror movies can subvert and challenge heteronormativity and misogyny.
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In this zine, I want to ask and examine two questions: 1) how does the abject manifest in misogyny and heteronormativity and how is this represented in horror movies?
Scream (1996)
Jennifer’s Body (2009) 2) How can the horror genre subvert misogyny and heteronormativity?
In the essay “The Power of Horror. An Essay on Abjection”, Julia Kristeva, a French philosopher, defines the phenomena of “abjection” as the feeling of horror and disgust due to the breakdown of the distinction between the Self and the Other that violates our ideas of reality. It is the fear of seeing something that does not match the status quo, of seeing something that is usually repressed. Kristeva writes, “Abject. It is something rejected from which one does not part, from which one does not protect oneself as from an object.” She points to the human corpse as the ultimate example of the abject. It is no longer human, forces us to reckon with our mortality, and is kept away from the eyes of society. Because society shuns it, we fear it even though it comes from us. Sort of confusing, I know, but it’s important to understand. Horror, and specifically depictions of women, sexuality, and gender identity, are associated with the fear of the abject. The abject tells us what is disgusting and what we “should” be disgusted by. So much of horror explores societal taboos for this very reason. The abject takes many forms in horror movies, one of them being the female body.
Barbara Creed coined the term “monstrous feminine” to refer to female monsters to emphasize how these monsters are constructed and based in gender. Monstrous feminine are associated with female reproduction or motherhood. A little known psychologist named Sigmund Freud details the fear of women genitalia as a fear of castration. He also believed vaginas had teeth. What makes these monsters so terrifying, according to Creed, is that these monsters are trying to castrate men, whether it be literally or metaphorically. The monstrous feminine is based in the patriarchy’s fear of the breakdown of gender roles. Some classic examples of the monstrous feminine take form in witches, vampires, castrating mothers, and possessed monsters. In contemporary culture, we see examples of the monstrous feminine in many popular horror movies. WITCH: Carrie (1976), The VVitch (2015) POSSESSED MONSTER: Jennifer’s Body (2009) MONSTROUS WOMB: Rosemary’s Baby (1968) CASTRATING MOTHER: Psycho (1960)
In Carrie (1976), the movie begins with Carrie getting her period for the first time. She is ridiculed by her classmates and punished for this “sin” by her mother. In Rosemary’s Baby (1968), Rosemary goes through a violent pregnancy, eventually giving birth to the son of Satan. Menstruation and childbirth become the abject. Anything related to a vagina is taboo- menstruation, sexual intercourse, pregnancy, and childbirth. And because it is taboo, it is something to fear.
Another representation of women that is based in, you guessed it, the patriarchy: the Final Girl. Carol J. Clover coins the term “final girl” after noticing the occurrence of the “female-victim-hero” in slasher horror films. The final girl, who is the victim up until a point, turns her weapon on the monster, relinquishing her femininity. She is the sole survivor. There are key characteristics of the final girl: virgin, shy, paranoid, and an androgynous sounding name. The “final girl” trope arises from societal fears and anxieties around gender and sexuality. Although these women are protagonists, these films are not necessarily feminist; they are still based in patriarchal norms. Examples of a Final Girl (pictured clockwise): Ellen Ripley in Alien (1979) Thomasin in The VVitch (2015) Sally in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) Dana in Cabin in the Woods (2011) Nancy in Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
In contrast to the pure virgin girl that remains the sole survivor, the girl who has sex is often times the first person to die. In a patriarchal society, sex is power, and power is for men. When women take hold of this power, they are punished- often violently. From scantily clad woman to graphic sexual violence, many horror movies are misogynistic. However, I would argue this: just because many of these tropes are based in misogyny and the patriarchy doesn’t mean they cannot be used to explore themes regarding womanhood. The Final Girl has evolved. She is no longer just the virgin. This trope has been utilized by films like Midsommar (2019) and Hereditary (2018) to explore the pain and trauma woman endure, often at the hands of men. Similarily, the monstrous feminine, while based in the fear of the abject female body, can provide retribution. In Teeth (2007), Dawn has vagina dentata- teeth in her vagina- that only activate during nonconsensual sex, castrating her rapists. She is a monstrous feminine that fights back, a symbolic representation of the fight against the regulation of the female body and rape culture.
Horror films that are read as “feminist� include a female protagonist and an exploration of womanhood that is nuanced and complex. They explore themes of grief and loss, sexual violence, gendered power dynamics, or oppression.
Top to bottom: Hereditary (2018) Midsommar (2019) Teeth (2007) Us (2019)
DISCLAIMER: Horror movies are very white! For something to be truly feminist, we need more intersectional representation.
The abject takes another form in sexuality. Part of abjection is rejecting that which “does not respect borders, positions, rules” (Kristeva 4). Society moves to reject and exclude those that threaten heteronormative norms. LGBTQ+ bodies challenge socially acceptable boundaries of sex, gender identity, and sexuality. In horror, we see the abjection of LGBTQ+ bodies emerge in the “monstrous queer”. Similar to how the monstrous feminine is associated with the female body, the monstrous queer is associated with the queer body. It takes form in clearly queer-coded villains: effeminate serial killers, crossdressers, vampires, even Frankenstein’s monster. The villain is an Other and is often punished at the end of it.While this association may seem problematic, for a long time, the monster was an important vehicle to present LGBTQ+ themes in movies.
The Handmaiden (2016)
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
The Hays Code was passed in the early 20th century, banning movies from showing “immoral� acts. While homosexuality was not explicitly banned, it was heavily implied. Movies could not include heterosexual couples kissing, much less openly discuss LGBTQ+ themes. And so, to circumvent this, filmmakers depended on the monstrous queer for representation. In earlier films, LGBTQ+ themes were found in the subtext. In the 1960s, a time of revolution for gay rights activists, feminists, and civil rights activist alike, the Hays Code was abandoned. The horror genre had its own revolution. Slowly but surely, LGBTQ+ horror movies gained visibility and themes moved from subtext to the obvious.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)
Scream (1996)
It didn’t happen all at once. Horror films didn’t go from queer subtext to open discussions of LGBTQ+ themes right away. Many horror films were queer coded. This means the character is portrayed as queer in the subtext, but it is never explicitly stated. Perhaps one of the earliest queer-coded movies, Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is a continuation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was directed by James Whale, who was openly gay. Just one example of queer subtext in the film is the Monster’s relationship with the hermit. They are outcasts who find eachother, and their bond has been read as a same-sex relationship.
It is easy to overlook queer subtext when you aren’t looking for it or don’t know what to look for. Signs of a queer-coded movie: objects meant to be phallic (Dracula’s fangs), intense relationships with someone of the same sex (Stu and Billy in Scream (1996), Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in Interview With the Vampire (1994)), monsters in BDSM-inspired outfits (Hellraise (1987)), and themes of repression and desire (Freddy’s Revenge (1985)).
My personal favorite example of a queer-coded horror character: the Babadook. It started as a joke at first; someone on Tumblr posted a (most likely edited) screenshot of the Babadook in the LGBT movie section of Netflix. The Babadook was then co-opted as a gay icon because, as Tumblr user Barricorn writes, “The B in LGBT stands for Babadook�. He started showing up at Pride parades and on T-shirts, waving a Pride flag. The Babadook is camp (he wears a top hat and makes a pop-up book of himself). He is rejected and shunned. Some have interpreted the manner in which the family learns to live with the Babadook, despite fearing him, to represent the families of LGBTQ+ people who learn to live with their sexuality, but do not accept it.
The association of queer people and monsters is met with (rightfully deserved) criticism. What does it when the queer-coded villain is punished for the very thing that makes it queer? Popular horror movies can perpetuate harmful stereotypes of LGBTQ+ people that further heteronormative fear rather than challenge it. The trope of the crossdressing killer is openly transphobic and is depicted in famous horror films like The Silence of the Lambs (1991) and Psycho (1960). Buffalo Bill , after being rejected for a sex change operation, kills women to make a skin suit. Norman Bates dresses up as his dead mother. Both men are depicted as perverse and disturbed. It is a harmful narrative that is dangerous to push in a society that is already openly hostile to transgender people.
The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Let’s return to the idea of the abject. Abjection manifests in homophobia and transphobia, so one might assume that depictions of LGBTQ+ people in horror can further marginalize and other the community. However, the monstrous queer, when done correctly, has potential to subvert heteronormative understandings of sex, gender identity, and sexuality. The monster is shunned by society due to some quality or trait that society finds irredemeable, and at the same time, the monster is created when society shuns it. I am not arguing that LGBTQ+ people are monsters; I am arguing that the story of the monster can act as a vehicle to understand the marginalization and oppression of LGBTQ+ people. Openly discussing LGBTQ+ themes was not allowed for a long time, and so, one way to get around that was to explore them through subtext in horror, an already transgressive genre. Recently, horror films forego the queer monster narrative for a more nuanced take on LGBTQ+ representation. Jennifer’s Body (2009) is a movie about hot girl Megan Fox feeding on men and her intense and confusing relationship with her best friend Needy. Megan Fox isn’t a monster because she is bisexual; she is just a monster who happens to be bisexual.
“Horror and pornography are the only two genres specifically devoted to the arousal of bodily sensation�- Carol J. Clover
Hereditary (2018)
Horror is a transgressive genre, determined to evoke our primal fears. Thus, a genre that delights itself in challenging social and moral acceptability might just be the perfect place to simultaneously explore feminist and LGBTQ+ themes and subvert heteronormativity and the patriarchy. Filmmakers can use horror to reframe the true monsters of society: oppressive societal institutions.
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