With multiple Academy Award nominations under its belt, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance (2024) is one of the most talked-about films of the year. Fusing body horror with a feminist twist, the film follows Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), a Hollywood star celebrating her fiftieth birthday. When she is unexpectedly released from her contract by network executives who suddenly deem her too old to host her long-running aerobics show, Elisabeth turns to “The Substance,” a secret serum that promises to rejuvenate her appearance by generating a younger version of herself, named Sue (Margaret Qualley). But as the two grow to resent each other, it becomes clear that perfection comes with a cost. With awards buzz and an imminent second theatrical run, The Substance is connecting with audiences and critics alike. But is the hype earned? We’re breaking it all down today with spoilers, so stay tuned.
William Burns
‘Thinking back to all the details is not at all unpleasant. I rather enjoy it.”—Peter Kürten quoted in Dr. Karl Berg’s The Sadist
While postmodern thinkers may scoff at “grand narratives” and “human nature,” the one topic that seems to link human beings across time and space is a fascination with crime and criminals. The real life what, how, why, and who of criminality have fed pretty much every form of human expression: myths, epic poems, folktales, ballads, songs, poetry, novels, short stories, plays, radio shows, films, TV shows, comic books, journalism. documentaries, videos, web sites, video games, podcasts, ad nauseum. Rather than as a way to facilitate communication, perhaps media was invented to highlight and share accounts of the dark side of human behavior to the thrilled fascination of its audiences whether around a fire or an iPhone. In the 21st century, cable TV, social media, video platforms, and streaming services are overflowing with true crime movies, documentaries, podcasts, and programs based on the most heinous of offenses. Felonies such as fraud, theft, abuse, identity theft, racketeering, bank robbery, drug trafficking, conspiracy, smuggling, and sex crimes have all been fodder for our entertainment, giving us the ability to live vicariously through wicked criminals and then feel satisfied and superior when they are apprehended for their social violations.
Cullen Wade
Recently, I watched Andrew McCarthy’s 2024 documentary Brats (not to be confused with Bratz which is actually worth your time), in which a 60-year-old movie star grapples with the psychic toll of someone calling him a brat four decades ago, and it got me thinking about slasher movies. Let me explain.
“The Brat Pack” refers to a loosely-delineated group of young actors who starred in popular teen movies of the 1980s, generally in the orbit of John Hughes. In McCarthy’s documentary, authorities ranging from Malcolm Gladwell to Rob Lowe repeatedly argue for the Brat Pack’s breakout as a seismic shift in the Hollywood profile of the teen movie. Gladwell calls it a “generational transition,” and, as McCarthy puts it, “Hollywood discovered the box office potential of a young audience … In the history of Hollywood, it had never been like this.”
Set, Sodomy, and the Springwood Slasher: Queerness and the Occult in Freddy’s Revenge
Guest PostAdam Pasen
Always a bit of a dark horse in the Nightmare on Elm Street canon, NOES 2: Freddy’s Revenge (Jack Sholder, 1985) has earned greater consideration since its release for its queer subtext. The story of Freddy coming at night to “get inside” new kid Jesse Walsh is viewed by critics such as Harry M. Benshoff as a metaphor for homosexual desire. (See this excellent article by Jordan Phillips on exactly this topic.)
To support this claim, scenes are cited such as love interest Lisa coming to help Jesse clean his room and finding him bumping and grinding to “All Night Long (Touch Me)” while a prominently displayed “Probe” game sits in the closet. Then there’s Jesse’s encounter at the BDSM bar with Coach Schneider and bare-assed gym brawl with Grady while a crowd of boys cheers “nail him!” Yet while the erotic underpinnings of Jesse and Freddy’s battle are generally acknowledged, the esoteric/magical dimensions are not.
Steve A. Wiggins
For about three decades after The Exorcist (1973), possession movies tended to be Catholic. It was as if demons were a distinctively Catholic problem. Demons, in fact, are recognized worldwide in a variety of different forms, not all of them evil. In the three major monotheistic religions they do tend to be enemies of God and should be banished whenever possible. Historically speaking, Jews, Christians, and Muslims cooperated in exorcisms, something that is cited in The Unborn (David S. Goyer, 2009). Goyer’s movie features a Jewish exorcism involving an Episcopal priest and some nonbelievers. As such, it stands as another example of Jewish horror, albeit hybridized.