Julia Aloi
Women in past slasher films never truly triumphed, as evidenced in the often exploitative, detailed deaths of the female victims or in the eventual removal of the heroine’s agency in the film’s conclusion. Historically, the Final Girl, though central in her role as the resourceful heroine, has never really been the empowered subject of the traditional slasher film: she is inevitably exposed to the bloodied corpses of her friends while also fending off the murderous antagonist, only to be forced back into the status quo position of the cinematically powerless object. As Vera Dika put it, the final image of the slasher film is that of the trapped heroine, doomed to remain within the perpetual confines of the frame, ultimately being rendered powerless as her ability to see and use violence has vanished (95). As her triumph remains negatively marked by the trauma of violence and death at the hands of the slasher killer, the Final Girl’s perils in past slasher films yielded little reward, as her role as the prized heroine, the sole member of the young community who’s able to drive the narrative forward, is ultimately reduced to the position of the “blind” object, unable to perceive violence after subduing the killer long enough to be saved by an external figure or to save herself (barely).
The relentless, masculine gaze of the killer persists even in his (possible) death, with the watchfulness of the banished killer still present just outside the cinematic frame the isolated Final Girl defeated and trapped within the frame. Riley Stone (Imogen Poots), the female protagonist of Sophia Takal’s 2019 Black Christmas, embodies several radically altered slasher conventions, however. First, the traditionally trapped Final Girl is instead ultimately liberated from her own past trauma, ending the film staring into the flames of the burning fraternity house with her sexual assailant Brian (Ryan McIntyre) inside. Her smiling, battered face escapes the trap of the slasher’s typical final frame, as the Final Girl here remains the cinematic subject of the final frame. Riley effectively breaks the cyclical nature of her own past trauma with the presented static shot of the DKO fraternity house in flames. She is never returned to the traditional status quo role of the devalued object. As Valerie Wee states, the return of the Final Girl to the devalued, powerless object of the film symbolizes “a very conservative ideology in which capable, independent young women must inexorably be contained and/or destroyed for fear they trouble patriarchy further” (59). The final shot of the traditionally trapped heroine of the slasher film has served this patriarchal objective.
The final shot of Halloween (1978) in which the house is presented from the perspective of the looming Michael Myers, the slasher killer, the traumatic nature of his presence forever haunting the survived Final Girl, Laurie Strode; her brief ability to break out of the cinematic position of the object is consequently eroded as she is reduced to the “blind” position.
Black Christmas reverses this pathway as, initially, Riley is isolated from the community at large as a result of her speaking up about her sexual assault, as rape victims are deemed unworthy of sympathy from several of the film’s characters, including her assaulter’s fraternity friend who appears at Riley’s place of work to mock and taunt her. She is essentially ‘contained’ after being haunted not only by her own assault but also by the pervasive nature of rape culture, isolating herself from her friends as the fraternity brothers and the college at large ignore her assault story. Indeed, in a later scene, she shares with her friend Kris Waterson (Aleyse Shannon) that the police did not believe her when she reported her sexual assault, as several male authority figures in the film remain complicit in allowing sexual violence against women to exist on the college’s campus.
Ultimately, despite initially being rendered isolated and powerless as a result of sexual violence, Riley is wholly liberated from past unresolved trauma and the threat of the murderous DKO fraternity brothers, watching them burn as they end up occupying the cinematically “feminine” position of the object (Dika 90), trapped in the empowered gaze of the Final Girl. The conventional relationship of the momentarily autonomous Final Girl and the ever-present killer is cinematically inverted in Black Christmas, as Riley is initially treated as the helpless object, not taken seriously by the authority figures or the fraternity members on her campus, only to be ultimately granted a permanent position as independent subject in the final frame, a position quite unlike that of past Final Girls.
The Final Girl/Riley is seen smiling as she watches the DKO fraternity house burn down, a direct juxtaposition of Halloween’s traditional ending; she is freed from both past unresolved trauma and the entrapping final frame of earlier slasher films.
The Final Girl’s ability to drive the narrative forward as a valued character, directly in contrast with the sexual transgressors within the community of young victims, has traditionally stemmed from her own sexual inactivity and ‘masculine’ interests, as overt femininity and female sexuality have been systematically demonized and punished in the slasher. As Carol Clover writes, the Final Girl is always “the Girl Scout, the bookworm, the mechanic” (39), defining herself from the outset as distinctly isolated from her female friends given her unique quirks and male-oriented interests. This essentially conservative dynamic falsely “empowers” the past heroines of slasher films by attributing their value to their lack of sexual agency and general opposition to anything ‘feminine.’ As Dika states, “The heroine is valued over the young community because she displays personal restraint not only in sexual matters but also in her family or professional relationships. This control gives her an incipient ability for sight and, ultimately, for violent action” (98).
Traditional values are challenged and subverted in Black Christmas as Riley’s social detachment and sexual inactivity stem directly from her past sexual assault: unresolved trauma replaces the restrictive, conservative ideals typically dictating the formulaic identity structure of past Final Girls. Riley is consistently haunted by her assault throughout the film, avoiding public attention and withdrawing herself from most of the sorority’s gatherings, as her friend Kris comments that Riley is essentially becoming a ghost of her prior, energetic self as a result of her assault.
While the sexually active women of past slashers were inevitably punished with a torturous, voyeuristic death, Riley’s own lack of on-screen sexuality and general separation from the other victims in the sorority occur as consequences of her trauma remaining unprocessed throughout the film. Black Christmas ultimately never condemns the sexually active woman, as sexual inactivity is a result of her assault and not inherent to the success of her role as the Final Girl. Conservative politics are thus criticized and challenged as Riley is instead encouraged to engage in the very activities for which past slasher victims were punished—partying, flirting, drinking, etc.—as she flirts with Landon (Caleb Eberhardt) and finally gains enough confidence to join the stage with her sorority sisters during the Christmas party, singing a song with lyrics that attack both rape culture within the college’s campus and her past assaulter Brian.
As past Final Girls were repeatedly defined by their abilities to differentiate themselves from the sexually active, hyper-feminine woman, their fictional value being intertwined with their masculine hobbies or interests, Riley’s own cinematic progression from the aforementioned ghost-like version of her past self into the smirking, triumphant heroine in the final frame challenges the conservative politics present in the slasher formula.
Additionally, as Clover states, the Final Girl is inevitably the one who, alone, looks death in the face (35). The climactic sequence of the slasher film traditionally occurred between the isolated heroine and the killer, as her friends have been systematically mutilated and killed, their elaborate death scenes and corpses put on voyeuristic display for the remainder of the film; the victims are ultimately devalued even in death. While the valued Final Girl does not end up as a corpse, she does return as object in the final frame. However, Riley is accompanied by her surviving sorority sisters as she battles the slasher killers of the film, the unmasked DKO fraternity brothers. The traditional relationship of the inherently elevated, sexually-inactive Final Girl and the transgressive, deviant victims is overturned, and the sorority sisters effectively are granted the power of vision, as they see and use violence, attacking Professor Gelson (Cary Elwes) and the other college boys alongside Riley, operating as a cohesive unit rather than as a divided group of the heroine and the victims.
As the film overtly incorporates feminist ideas and challenges patriarchal overtones perpetuated across the college’s campus, the women of the film unite to fight back against the murderous, sexist fraternity brothers, as well as against the cinematic and exploitative mistreatment of female victims of past slasher films, as their deaths were often “filmed at closer range, in more graphic detail, and at greater length” (Clover 35). In contrast, Riley is never truly alone throughout the film, as the women of the Mu Kappa Epsilon sorority support her as she deals with her trauma, helping her defeat past demons in the form of her rapist Brian and the other fraternity brothers in the film’s finale.
As Riley ultimately escapes the traditional imprisonment of the slasher heroine, shown in the final static shot of her smiling at the burning DKO house with its members inside, her sorority sisters are granted the ability to aid the heroine, with none of the female characters of the film being reduced to the role of the powerless object trapped within the cinematic frame. The past Final Girls—trapped as the object of the looming killer’s gaze, isolated from the corpses of her friends during the battle with the slasher killer, and defined by the formulaic, virginal nature of other heroines—is thus transformed into a radically altered, liberated character, as the unconventional Riley challenges several of the previously established slasher conventions.
Works Cited
Clover, Carol J. Men, Women and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. Princeton University Press, 1992.
Dika, Vera. “The Stalker Film, 1978-81.” American Horrors: Essays on the Modern American Horror Film, by Gregory A. Waller, University of Illinois Press, 1987, pp. 86–101.
Wee, Valerie. “Resurrecting and Updating the Teen Slasher: The Case of Scream.” Journal of Popular Film and Television, vol. 34, no. 2, 2006, pp. 50–61.
