It has been said that horror involves too few and too negative stereotypes of women. In the years since Carol Clover’s 1992 book Men, Women, and Chainsaws, even the final girl has been criticized for limiting women’s role in horror. I feel that that there has been continuous growth in the industry’s representations of women. The female character is no longer an adornment to be draped over the shoulder of The Creature from The Black Lagoon (1954) or of an oversized gorilla. She does not exist simply to be saved. The following qualities of the present women of horror provide us with a better representation of the myriad of personalities that exist in real women. Rather than the simple formulaic final girls, these qualities reinforce ways of seeing women in horror and of appreciating horror’s growing audience of female spectators. Women are not one-dimensional: we are sometimes weak, strong, smart, silly, scared, simple, and maddeningly complex. Far from complete, this broader range of characteristics celebrates the fact that women in our favorite genre are more than just props, archetypes, or stereotypes. Looking beyond the big boobs, monstrous mommies, and less than virginal victims, women contain a multitude of characteristics that critics often minimize. There was no way I was limiting this list to ten and it’s our month so we are in charge. I hope you will all add some to our list to help us celebrate women in horror.
I live for a good giallo or, truth be told, a really bad one. You see, even the most mediocre giallo holds something special, be it the location (especially spooky, foggy, perfect Venice), the over-the-top murders, the kick-ass soundtracks, or the unmasking of the killer (hint: it’s always the priest). As Women in Horror Month kicked off, I kept thinking about my obsession with gialli and what made them so special to me. It finally dawned on me that, despite their flaws, these films are incredibly feminist. The women in gialli are unlike anything seen in American slashers or thrillers during the 1970’s. For me, this is one of the reasons why these films are still refreshing and captivating over forty years later.
Giallo, the Italian word for ‘yellow,’ has come to encompass the Italian slasher film genre as a whole. In post-fascist Italy, paperback mystery novels were given yellow covers, and it was the content of these dime-store novels that served as the plots for many giallo films. This subgenre usually features a black-leather-gloved killer, armed with a knife; bold colors (the genre’s giants Mario Bava and Argento heavily favor blood-red); and ample amounts of nudity and sex. While Italians certainly cornered the market on gialli, there are some solid British and American contributions to the genre such as Peeping Tom (1960), Frenzy (1972), Klute (1971), and The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978).
The Walking Dead MSP: How the #GreatChop Points to an Audience Divide
Elizabeth ErwinSurprisingly explicit, tonight’s The Walking Dead midseason premiere, aptly named “No Way Out,” was a clear reminder to viewers that the show they enjoy so much is unabashedly a part of the horror genre. Predictably, online criticism over the brutality of the episode was swift. If you haven’t yet watched the episode, now would be a good time to stop reading because we are going to talk in detail about what transpired and why viewer reaction was likely so strong…and mixed.
This Short Cut comes from a convergence of the two big horror-related happenings in my life right now: the upcoming mid-season premiere of AMC’s The Walking Dead on Sunday and Horror Homeroom’s series on the Final Girl for Women in Horror Month. With that broader confluence in mind, I want to explore a particular point of connection between Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later (Steve Miner, 1998) and the season 3 episode of The Walking Dead, “Prey.”
In H20, Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) has been hiding from her murderous brother, Michael Myers, for twenty years, but on October 31, 1998, he finally finds her. In the frame below, she looks at him, in a moment of recognition and horror, through the window in a door.
There is much to say about how the Final Girl changed in 1990s horror, so this post will inevitably be partial.
First of all, the Final Girl became intriguingly fused with AUTHORITY in the 1990s. In the slasher films of the 1980s, the authority figures were, for the most part, nowhere to be found when the killer started stalking and slaughtering teens. In fact, part of the ideological message of these films was to indict the authority figures (parents, police, doctors) who were either recklessly absent, incompetent, or were somehow involved in creating the problem in the first place. Why did officials at the psychiatric hospital allow Michael Myers to escape, anyway? Why are police and/or parents signally absent when it matters in Halloween (1978), Friday the 13th (1980), and their many sequels?
Things changed with the groundbreaking The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991). Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) is unambiguously a Final Girl, meeting all the characteristics, as I laid them out in Part 1 of this series. As fledging FBI agent, however, she is also the authority figure—and an effective one at that. She finds Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine) and saves his latest victim while the rest of the FBI is miles away.