Horror Films and the Women Who Survive Them
Halloween approaches and nothing feels more apt than celebrating with a POW film screening. And not just any film, mind you, but "The Love Witch" - a feminist comedy horror crafted meticulously by Anna Biller and starring the entrancing Samantha Robinson. Why this film, you ask? Because it intricately weaves the delicate threads of feminism, humour, and horror, and shows how they can harmoniously coexist, tackling that very sticky question: are horror films the misunderstood champions of women or just misogyny repackaged?
Let's face it, feminist critiques have hovered around horror films like vultures spotting a potential meal. These criticisms focus on graphic violence towards women and, frankly, the blatant sexual objectification. But is it fair to single out the horror genre when innuendos and scantily clad women appear just as regularly in our favourite action-packed blockbusters? I've been asking myself that as a horror fan and feminist.
It's not all Blood and Gore
Horror loves to blur the boundaries, tiptoeing between what's acceptable and what's too much. But that's the beauty of it, isn't it? It pushes, prods, and provokes, daring us to confront our own fears, societal taboos, and moral ambiguities.
The controversial 1970s, with its socio-political upheaval, bore witness to a subgenre that still elicits shivers and heated discussions in equal measure: the rape revenge film. "I Spit on Your Grave" is perhaps the most notorious of the lot. Critics decried it as a shameless exposition that glorified violence against women. Yet, on the flip side, there were feminist voices that lauded the film. They argued it was more than just exploitative cinema; it was an unapologetic glimpse into the brutalities of sexual violence, a call for awareness and action.
Wes Craven's "The Last House on the Left" was another product of the 70s. It bears a narrative arc strikingly similar to "I Spit on Your Grave", but with a twist: here, it's the parents of the victim who exact revenge. It raises questions on the lengths one would go for justice and whether vengeance can ever truly heal wounds.
And then there's "Ms. 45", a cult classic that weaves the tapestry of assault, revenge, and eventual descent into madness. With each act of violence, the protagonist evolves, giving viewers a mirror into the complexities of trauma and recovery.
But here's a side note, and it's essential to spotlight this: Horror is an equal opportunity genre when it comes to dispensing its thrills and kills. It doesn't just target women. Men meet their untimely ends in myriad ways too, from the hapless boyfriend in "Scream" to the unfortunate camp counsellors in "Friday the 13th". It's crucial to recognise that death in horror is more of a narrative tool, often irrespective of gender. Every time a character, male or female, faces the monster or the knife-wielding killer, there's a backstory, a purpose, a reflection of societal fears and morbid curiosities.
To view horror solely through the lens of gender does a disservice to the genre. A woman's demise in a film is about more than her gender, as is a man's. By reducing these tales to mere statistics or simplified narratives, we risk stripping them of their nuances and overarching messages. But don't mistake this for an appeal to ignore gender. Oh no! It's about recognising the intricate interplay between societal commentary and individual narrative. Horror is, after all, a shimmering mirror of our collective psyche – reflecting back the societal anxieties of every era, whether it's the nuclear-age-inspired monsters of the 50s or the tech horrors of today.
And so, in this rich mosaic of horror, let's zoom in on one particularly iconic trope - the 'final girl' – she's the one who, after a relentless cat and mouse chase, stands tall, bloodied but unbowed. Some critics view her through the lens of victimhood, asserting that this trope only serves to paint women as prey. But hang on a minute, let's not rush to judge.
Sure, the 'final girl' narrative often begins with a woman in peril, especially from a male antagonist. But what this critique glosses over is the evolution of this character. These women don't just curl up and accept their fate; they fight back, transform, and ultimately, triumph. It's a journey from vulnerability to empowerment, mirroring the many real-life stories of women confronting and overcoming adversity.
Let's take a detour from our 'final girl' for a moment and look at other prominent horror tropes. The seductive femme fatale, for instance, who uses her allure to ensnare men. Or the ever-present mother figure, oscillating between nurturing and neurotic, as seen in classics like "Psycho". Each of these tropes, much like the 'final girl', can be scrutinised for feminist critique, but each also has layers of interpretation, offering both reflection and subversion of societal norms.
Laurie Strode from "Halloween"
We have a gallery of resilient women. Laurie Strode from "Halloween", for instance, is not just Michael Myers' prey; she's his nemesis. Ripley of the "Alien" series isn't just surviving; she's leading, making decisions, and taking on extraterrestrial threats with unmatched fervour. And let's not forget Sidney Prescott of the "Scream" series, who not only confronts her attackers but also the traumatic past that they symbolise.
While the 'final girl' may begin her cinematic journey enveloped in fear, she emerges as a symbol of resistance, resourcefulness, and resilience. It's a transformation that challenges the narrative of women as mere victims, offering instead a tale of heroism and empowerment. These stories are not just about monsters lurking in the shadows or blood-curdling screams; they echo the deeper struggles of resilience, defiance, and rebirth that many women face. So, before we're quick to label and dismiss, let's remember that the horror genre, with all its dark corners and eerie shadows, often holds up a mirror to society. It's not just about thrills and chills but about dissecting our own societal constructs. And in that reflection, if we look closely, we might just see the challenges, the struggles, and the triumphs of feminism etched into its frame. It's a testament to cinema's power to provoke thought even in its most spine-tingling moments.
And speaking of mirrors and reflections, let's dive into the modern lexicon of film aficionados and feminist theory enthusiasts, The 'Bechdel Test'. If you're yet to be introduced, allow me the pleasure of unveiling this intriguing litmus test for you: Originally conjured in a humorous webcomic by Alison Bechdel, this test simply poses three criteria for films.
1) It must have at least two named female characters.
2) These characters must talk to each other.
3) Their conversation should be about something other than a man.
Sounds simple, doesn't it? And yet, a staggeringly large portion of mainstream cinema fails to tick these seemingly basic boxes.
It's often a point of exasperation, coupled with a drop of sardonic humour, when discussing the frequent sidelining of female roles in films. Picture this: A sprawling Michael Bay-like landscape, lots of explosions, and women who seem to exist merely to swoon, panic or act as mere decorative backdrops to the beefed-up male leads. However, when it comes to the realm of horror, the narrative takes a pleasantly surprising twist. Here, women aren't just on the sides, they're centre stage, gripping the audience with their resilience, complexity, and depth.
Horror gleefully punches above its weight, scoring a near 70% on the Bechdel scale, surpassed only by the musical genre. And it's high time we tip our hats to this much-maligned genre which has been subtly championing female stories far more consistently than its more 'high-brow' counterparts.
THE LOVE WITCH
Take "The Love Witch". Set in a deliciously retro aesthetic, it tells the tale of Elaine, a modern-day witch. But hold onto your broomsticks, for Elaine isn't just there to cast spells in the periphery or be a mere romantic dalliance. She drives the narrative, manoeuvring through a society where her power is both an asset and a curse. The film doesn't just acknowledge her agency; it revels in it. Yet, while it's thrilling to sing praises, it's also essential to acknowledge that the Bechdel Test, for all its glory, isn't the final word on feminist representation. It's a starting point, a basic measure. There are films which might pass the test but still present problematic portrayals of women, and vice versa. However, it does give us a nifty tool to gauge how often women are given genuine narrative space in movies.
The Gory Conclusion
While "The Love Witch" is an essential Halloween watch, it also drives home a key point - the horror genre has often been the unsung hero for women's stories. It doesn't shy away from the ugly, instead highlighting the strength of women in the face of it. Rather than lambast the genre for its more risqué choices, perhaps it's time we appreciated its unique lens on female empowerment.
POW’s Frightful Recommendations
If "The Love Witch" has whetted your appetite, here's a curated list to continue your journey:
Ginger Snaps (2000): This Canadian horror film blends werewolf folklore with the angsts of adolescence. The metamorphosis of the central character, Ginger, parallels the onset of her menstruation — a smart allegory for the onset of womanhood and the societal "monstrosity" assigned to female puberty and sexuality. It's a dark, bloody take on sisterhood, rebellion, and the beast within.
The Witch (2015): Set in the 1630s, Robert Eggers' directorial debut takes us to a New England homestead where religious paranoia meets budding femininity. The film masterfully explores the perils of a young woman's independence in a deeply patriarchal and puritan society. Is Thomasin truly a witch, or is she a young woman coming into her power in a world that fears her for it?
Revenge (2017): French director Coralie Fargeat offers a modern spin on the rape-revenge trope, focusing not on the act of violence but on the resilience and fury of its survivor. It's a sun-soaked, visually stunning descent into a woman's fight against male entitlement and the desert elements. With intense cinematography, this film refuses to let the viewer look away from its fierce female protagonist.
The Babadook (2014): This isn't just a spooky tale; it's an introspective journey of motherhood, grief, and the monsters they birth. Director Jennifer Kent vividly portrays the struggles of a single mother, pushing you to question: is the real monster the one under the bed, or the one within us?
Teeth (2007): At its surface, a quirky horror-comedy. But delve deeper, and you'll find a biting commentary on society's fear of female sexuality. With a unique blend of humor and horror, it redefines female agency in ways you didn't see coming.
Pan's Labyrinth (2006): While not a traditional horror, Guillermo del Toro weaves a tale where fantasy and the harrowing truths of war collide. At its heart, it's a story of a young girl's defiance against oppressive masculine forces, both in her real world and the fantastical one.
Raw (2016): A riveting French-Belgian film that uses cannibalism as a metaphor for a young woman's sexual awakening and the brutal rites of passage in a patriarchal society. It's visceral, provocative, and deeply feminist.
A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014): Tagged as the "first Iranian vampire Western", it uses the vampiric figure as a symbol of female empowerment. The protagonist, draped in a chador, roams the streets at night, challenging gender norms and societal expectations.
Each of these films, in their unique way, peels back the layers of femininity, sexuality, and empowerment. They don't just scare; they provoke thought, challenge stereotypes, and offer a fresh perspective. In the vast world of horror, these are the films that give feminism a voice, sometimes a scream, echoing long after the credits roll.
