While people like me have been celebrating Halloween since early September, October 1 officially marked the first socially acceptable day of “spooky szn” 2021. And what better way to get into the holiday spirit than curling up under some blankets, pouring a nice cup of cider, and tuning into your favorite horror movie?
Horror movies have been around for centuries. In as early as 1896, horror began its crusade across the silver screen with the French short film, Le Manoir du Diable (or The House of the Devil). Now, 125 years later, horror films are some of the most prevalent pieces of media in pop culture today. Between (horrible) modern remakes and the renaissance of horror movies, there’s no denying that horror films are having their moment.
But even someone like me, whose only personality trait is loving horror movies, needs to put some things into perspective. And one of those things is realizing the gut-wrenching, hard truth that’s harder to digest than most Saw traps: horror movies are, like, actually pretty offensive.
We’re all familiar with horror movie tropes: the demonization of sex, the token POC characters, the emphasis on virginity and purity, even the whole “final girl” thing. And for the most part, we write a lot of this stuff off as being typical horror movie themes.
But we shouldn’t. And as for these outdated, offensive horror movie tropes, I think Hollywood should kill them off as opposed to the sex-positive, teenage girls they love to murder.
Wondering about your fate in a horror movie? Don’t worry! I’ll make it simple.
Sex = Death
In every horror film you’ve probably seen, there’s typically a character (or a couple) that’s horny. And every time we see a character motivated by sex, we know they’re going to be the first to kick the bucket.Â
Scream (1996), a film that has been lauded for its meta-parody of classic horror movies, poked fun at this trope throughout the film. During a party, Randy (a teenage cinephile), lays out the rules of a horror film, stating, “For instance: 1. You can never have sex. The minute you get a little nookie — you’re as good as gone. Sex always equals death.”
Scream’s self-awareness is a fantastic commentary on the sex-negative nature of our favorite horror films. In Halloween (1978), Michael Myers (the murderer) kills sexually active teenagers. Friday the 13th (1980): Kevin Bacon and Jeannine Taylor have sex in a bunk bed. They die. No lives are spared in It Follows (2014): they die after having premarital sex with a shape-shifting monster, obviously. Then, in Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), Amanda Wyss sleeps with her boyfriend Nick Corri. And they live!
Just kidding! It’s a horror movie, of course they die.
In a sense, many classic horror movies are giving the impression that sex is an act that corellates directly to punishment (or death, in most cases). And, in turn, it creates this slut-shamey clichĂ© that’s not only harmful to the characters iin the film, but the entire sex positivity movement.Â
I mean, who’s directing these films? Incels, probably? Seems like it.
POC Characters = Death
We’ve all seen it. If the “promiscuous cheerleader” doesn’t get killed off first, it’s usually the only character of color — specifically, a Black character. Being that Black representation is a forgien concept in almost all horror films, it’s disturbing that the only time we really see a POC in a horror film is when they’re being brutally murdered within the first 10 minutes.Â
This isn’t a “only happens once and I’m going to compain” instance. Out of America’s loaded caveat of horror films — Night of the Living Dead (1968), The Shining (1980), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), The Exorcist (1973), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), Halloween (1978), and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) — only two feature prominent Black characters. And in both Night of the Living Dead and The Shining, you guessed it: they die. Quickly, might I add.
It’s a problem enough that Black people are barely featured in horror films. It’s even more of a problem when Hollywood kills them off much faster than the white character they share the screen with.
Native American Culture = Death
Similarly to Black characters in film, there is virtually no trace of Native representation in horror movies. That is, unless you include the appropriative demonization of Native curses that creep their way into horror films to simply be held accountable for, well, everything?
Literally. The demonic animal zombies in Pet Sematary (1989)? That has nothing to do with, I don’t know, maybe the supernatural? No, it’s because the cemetery was built on top of a Native American burial ground. All of the crazy shit that happens in Poltergeist (1982)? That’s because of a Native curse too. Like, for no reason.
Of all things, why did Hollywood choose to paint Native culture as this dark-magic, evil-voodoo realm that’s responsible for the terror inflicted on white families? Perhaps it has something to do with America’s long, dark, and ugly history with Native culture, with Hollywood typically tokenizing, mythicizing, and demonizing Native Americans.
White + Virgin + Typical Nerd = Life!
Finally! There is a way to survive a horror film! And it’s not by being particularly strong or smart or spiritual in any way. It’s by being a white, virginal teenage girl with her nose stuck in a book.
Yes, my friends, this brings us to the ever-present “final girl” trope.
The final girl is one of the major themes when it comes to horror films: Jess Bradford in Black Christmas (1974), Laurie Strode in Halloween (1974), Sidney Prescott in Scream (1996), and Dana Polk in Cabin in the Woods (2011). With these characters lauded as heroes in a male-dominated film industry, it’s easy to assume that the final girl trope is some kind of feminist beacon on Hollywood. And while it’s true that these characters kick some serial killer ass, there’s no denying the problems of the final girl archetype.
The final girl is modest. Concerned with her studies. She doesn’t do drugs and is cautious about pre-marital sex. Non-confrontational. Timid until challenged. She’s every overprotective mom’s dream. That’s why she lives and her slutty friend dies.
Not to mention, the final girl is white. Despite Hollywood’s endless vault of popular scary movies and disposable final girls, it took until Demon Knight (1996) to have a black woman featured as the final girl in a major horror film.
Change = Overdue, But Approaching
Scary movies aren’t going anywhere, nor should they. With a genre as broad and innovative as horror, it’s becoming increasingly popular to include analogies and nods to societal issues such as racism, classism, and sexism. And because of this, directors like Jordan Peele are flipping the switch on horror as we know it: creating diverse, thought-provoking films that are revolutionizing the genre as a whole.
Peele’s film Get Out (2017) received praise for its predominantly Black cast, as well as the film’s commentary on racism and the appropriation of Black culture. Peele’s second film, Us (2019), featured an extremely diverse cast in which Black characters are central to the story. And, most recently, Peele remade 1992’s Candyman–which features prominent Black characters and a whole lot of racial commentary.
To that same degree, Bong Joon-Ho’s 2019 horror/thriller film Parasite made waves all over the world, making history as the first film to win both Best International Film and Best Picture in the same year at the 2020 Oscars.Â
As for Native American filmmakers, many have been bringing their own perspective to the horror genre–creating culturally correct films centered around folklore, myths, curses, and the real-life horrors the community faces.
So, until racism and sexism stop creeping around my favorite horror movies draped in a shittily-hung white sheet, I’ll curl up in my blankets and fear the real monsters Hollywood created.