In his groundbreaking book on queerness and horror, Harry Benshoff looked to the star of Cat People (1942) as not only a particularly sympathetic monster but a rare example of lesbian subtext in the early horror film: “Irena’s monstrous ability to turn into a panther and kill men […] serves as an oft-cited metaphor for lesbian sexuality in the films of this era.”[1] The early girl-monster is associated with sexuality that deviates from the strict heterosexual norm, whether by vampirically seducing and draining young women as in Dracula’s Daughter (1936), or by a more complicated mix of frigidity and passion. Irena could be read as queer in her avoidance of heterosexual intimacy, or read as too attracted to men, such that she is prone to improper and violent explosions of passion. The modern girl-monster, who almost exclusively preys on men, has left behind the Countess’s predatory lesbianism for the more ambiguous waters of Irena’s fraught passions. How queer is it? That depends on the movie.
Beware the girl-monster, as deadly as she is beautiful. She is that compelling horror creature who is driven to bite, mutilate, and devour her victims out of an uncontrollable compulsion or appetite. She is most often characterized by her sharp teeth and unruly body, but rarely appears in the same form twice. The girl-monster is as old as the horror genre itself but, in the last 20 years, has enjoyed a renewed popularity and is, arguably, one of the most prolific horror cycles of the twenty-first century, as well as one of the least remarked upon.
In W. Scott Poole’s excellent monograph, Monsters in America (2011), he charts American history by exploring its monsters, arguing that the former is best understood through the latter (4). As he establishes this thesis in the book’s introduction, Poole provides a deceptively compelling insight as a brief throwaway line; he writes, “A monster is a beast of excess, and monster stories are tales of excess” (xiv).1 His point here is that monsters defy easy definitions because horror films tend to seek out contradictions and complexities and subvert narrative conventions, reveling in the (bloody) excess of rendering them on screen in the form of a monster and all of the carnage it wreaks.
There is another way to read Poole’s claim, however, that monsters tend to be defined by a characteristic or two that have been taken to the extreme, that have exceeded what society considers normal. Understanding this interpretation of the role that excess plays in the creation of a monster can open up how we make meaning of horror films. Read more