- Horror Movie - Horror Homeroom

Posted on July 14, 2020

From Poltergeist to Pennywise: Why Creepy Clowns Scare Us

Guest Post

In 1982, my family piled into our Ford station wagon and headed for the local theater to see Poltergeist. I was ten at the time, the youngest of four children. Ten is an age where you begin to fear things on a deeper, more cerebral level. But the movie was rated PG, so we went with it.

Today, this movie would easily warrant the stronger PG-13 rating. But there was no PG-13 in 1982. It was either G, PG or R. So the Motion Picture Association went for the middle ground. Bear this in mind, as we revisit the movie through the eyes of a ten-year-old.

Posted on June 23, 2020

Horror Fans, Don’t Call the Cops!

Sara McCartney

What do you think of when you think of the police? Do you think of the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, and many more Black people who should be alive today? Do you think of the brutal police responses that have interrupted peaceful protests around the nation?[1] Do you think of your favorite television show? Entertainment, from buddy cop movies to gritty thrillers to police procedurals to detective dramas, have shaped our perception of law enforcement, sometimes under the direction of actual precincts.[2] And if you’re following the news, the incongruency between the real-life police and their fictional equivalents is impossible to ignore.

One of the reasons I love horror is because it’s very good at not taking the status quo for granted. The best horror unmoors us from our assumptions about the world. As calls to abolish the police enter the American mainstream, it’s time for us to rethink our familiar narratives about cops, and that’s where horror comes in, because the cops you’ll find in horror movies aren’t quite what you’ll see in Law and Order.

Posted on June 20, 2020

Jaws: Novel vs. Film

Dawn Keetley/ Elizabeth Erwin

On the 45^th anniversary of the release of the film that made people afraid to go in the ocean, we consider Steven Spielberg’s Jaws (1975) in relation to Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel. Which is better? Or, perhaps a more useful question, what do the novel and film uniquely do? Check out answers by Elizabeth Erwin and Dawn Keetley.

Posted on June 12, 2020

The Constructed Masculinity of Evil Dead’s Ash

Sara McCartney

Even the squarest heterosexual knows about drag queens by now. They may even know how theorists like Judith Butler have used drag queens to talk about the constructedness and performativity of gender. Though drag kings receive less attention, their satiric power is even more pointed. As theorist Jack Halberstam argues, “kinging reads dominant male masculinity and explodes its effects through exaggeration, parody, and earnest mimicry.”[1] Drag kings use their craft and a healthy dose of humor to critique mainstream masculinity. Just as drag queens’ camp can be found outside of drag, so too do the motifs of drag king comedy show up in the mainstream. Halberstam points to the Austin Powers movies. In horror, where the usual performances of male heroism are futile at best, the male heroes who do appear come with a healthy dose of tongue-in-cheek humor. There’s no better example than Ash Williams from the Evil Dead franchise, with his boomstick, his chainsaw, and his groovy swagger.

Posted on March 28, 2020

Blacula (1972): Flawed But Important

Guest Post

Blacula (William Crain, 1972) is an interestingly complicated watch; unlike many films at the time, Blacula was the product of a black director and was born out of and into the 1970s political terrain and within the explosion of “blaxploitation” as a subgenre. Blacula is arguably a pioneer of black horror, which might be thought of as the reinvention of the genre “from the vantage point of Blackness.”[i] More particularly, Robin Means Coleman offers that “in ‘black horror’ specifically, mainstream or White monsters, such as Dracula or Frankenstein’s the Monster, were purposefully transformed into ‘agents’ of Black power.”[ii] Due to the lack of representation of blackness with the film industry at the time, one can hardly refute the impact Blacula had on the audience and the industry, setting a “gold standard,” as Means Coleman puts it.[iii] I want to argue, though, that in spite of Blacula’s attempts to interrogate racism and embody black pride, ultimately, the film articulates a very limited definition of blackness, presenting the dichotomy of an African identity that is primitive and brutish and an African American identity that is respectable and professional. Both depictions of blackness are masculine and predicated on the violent reinforcement of stereotypes and the maintenance of hierarchy.