Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Strange Horror Bodies, Part I


How many horror movies can you name where the villain and the hero are embodied by the same character?
If you sit and have a think, you can perhaps come up with one or two, but this villain-hero character type is certainly unusual. 

And it is definitely a change from the victim-hero or 'Final Girl' type that exists particularly in slashers (see Carol J. Clover's Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film).
It's also quite different from the victim-villain, like one might note in films like The Exorcist (1973):  Regan, an innocent little girl who becomes possessed and wreaks havoc on the lives of clergy members and her poor mother’s friends and nerves (though one might also consider the gender politics at large as blurring the distinction of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ even further, but we won’t dwell on that here). You might even recall Linda Williams’ argument which likens the helpless victim to the monster figure – an interesting point to consider, though not quite the same thing here (see Williams’ essay, ‘When the woman looks’ ).
But let's focus on the villain-hero type. This is a character who is initially positioned at one end of an imagined 'Good and Evil' spectrum and, over the course of the narrative, converts to a position at the other end of the spectrum, effectively being both a villain and a hero (or vice versa) in the same narrative.

In some ways, the lead in the Carrie films mixes the two types: she seeks a brutal revenge against the horrible school bullies that may deserve to be put in their place. Perhaps you might consider – **SPOILER ALERT** – the character of Helen Lyle in Candyman (1992), who inevitably becomes the villain she is trying to overcome; the same goes for Leon, in The Midnight Meat Train (2008), for that matter. But alas, this character type is not without issue.

Of course, there is evidence that many cinematic characters possess the ability to be both good and bad. Norman Bates, a plucky, helpful yet pathetic sort (albeit troubled by a broken mind and a split psychosis), is an example of a character whom is not outright evil, and yet is one we can hardly deem to be genuinely good, either.  A character such as this exists within the ‘grey zone’ or middle area of the 'Good and Evil' spectrum, as a vague entity that troubles us as audience members. 

Granted, most viewers of the Psycho films have a clear idea of what to expect of Norman, since word-of-mouth has generally taken the punch out the story’s ending. But one might also consider Marion Crane, a good-natured character who, in a flash moment of greed and spontaneity, makes off with a hefty sum which she was supposed to deliver to the bank on behalf of her boss. In this particular case, we might simply saw that Marion is a good character that does a bad thing, and the facts that she (a) recognizes her act as ‘bad’; and (b) reasons that she must return the money, further prevents her from any solid classification as a ‘bad’ character. For that matter, what does ‘good’ and ‘bad’ really entail? And what is the distinction between ‘bad’ and ‘evil’?
Let's set aside these ambiguities for a moment.
Consider the character, Mia, in Fede Alvarez’ Evil Dead (2013).
**SPOILER ALERTS TO COME** Though she enters the narrative later than the other characters, Mia steals the spotlight when she reconnects with her estranged brother, David. The plot embellishes Sam Raimi’s original storyline by adding a drug intervention that is soon waylaid by the dripping oversaturation of unrelenting gore and dismemberment. But it is unmistakable: Mia is a character at the centre of it all.
From the time she willingly arrives for a secluded treatment at the hands of friends and what remains of her family, Mia is in effect submitting herself for consideration in the role of the villain-hero. Her transformation into villain is brought about by an encounter with the essence of evil that is reawakened by Eric, the likeable bookish friend whose pursuit of knowledge brings life to the ‘curiosity-that-killed-the-cat’ trope (or ‘cats’, for there are many dangling from the rafters in the cabin’s eerie basement). Soon after, demonic-Mia is terrorizing the group with a giggle eerily evocative of another possessed female (whom I will return to shortly).  She is the first to become a ‘Deadite’, a slow, sweaty, quivering mess of a transformation that sees her attacking her friends (and erupting strange bile all over one – now where have I seen this before?) and brother before being locked in the cellar.
But the basement barely contains her evil; she spectates from a gap in the cellar hatch and lures the doe-eyed Natalie to her doom with false whimpering cries. Mia’s grotesque tongue mutilation and ensuing wagging further recalls Regan, even down to the crude expletive she utters. Now, given that she is technically possessed by an evil spirit (like that of Regan), one may dispute whether Mia’s nature of being is actually evil: she is a victim who is taken over by a demonic spirit that is evil. On the other hand, it is with her body and through her actions that terror is raised (poor Grandpa the dog will attest to that, or at least he would if he weren’t a mangled corpse).
Over the course of the film, Mia’s insidiousness is allowed to prevail, under David’s guilty inability to do his sister further emotional harm. But eventually he is driven to performing a live burial, a bag ineffectually tugged over his demon-sister’s head; she taunts him from beneath the plastic as he dumps hesitant shovelfuls of mud onto her. Somehow, he succeeds in diffusing the demon-Mia threat. He quickly unearths his beloved sister and – miracles among miracles – he revives her and she is saved! They embrace and all is well!
But wait.
We can all breathe a collective sigh of relief at this false ending. While Mia does not convert back again into an evil form and chew apart her endearing brother, she instead assumes a role of power. As all hell rains down (and then climbs up from the muddy bowels of the earth), who is it that wields the infamous chainsaw, in all its sputtering, roaring glory?
Mia.
Who somehow manages to halt the ravaging beast of the apocalypse with a few determined ripping digs of said chainsaw?
That’s right.
Mia.

(sigh) My villain-hero.



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Sunday, December 2, 2012

"I'm Not Your F*cking Mommy": On Psychoanalytic Theory in Horror

Anyone with a healthy interest in horror film theory must admit that the vast majority of it constantly reasserts psychoanalytic theory. I cannot be the only one frustrated with this repetitive psychobabble framework.

Freudian thought is almost inescapable; it is an insidious force that lurks in behind all things, hunting incessantly, resolutely refusing to die.  

This predetermined behavioural and psychological patterning based almost entirely on sexual difference is entirely suffocating. But because it is often relied upon to explain and analyze horror genre trends, psychoanalytic theory has been cemented as the essential source for reading a horror film. 

Granted, it is important to know and understand established theory, especially in order to stimulate discussion such as this one. But horror film criticism is often limited by a desperate clinging to "foundational" theory that is by no means flawless, while neglecting the usefulness of alternative approaches.

Below is a lamentation and dissection of the exhausting stranglehold of psychoanalytic theory and the traditional forms of female characters types in horror cinema. More importantly, it is also an offering of other forms of character types in horror cinema, ones which do not doom the female form to that of either (i)a victim, (ii) a sexual monster, or (iii) the equivalent of a teenage male.  

(The following is a synopsis of an article presented at the 2012 Popular/American Culture Association National Conference, in Boston, MA, and is also included in a forth coming anthology tentatively entitled, Horror in the Terror Age;  ideas contained within are pending copyright).

TITLE:
“I’m Not Your Fucking Mommy”: The Ontological Horror of ‘Women’ and Women in Jaume Collet-Serra’s Orphan (2009)
"The trap of traditional gender assumptions in horror cinema are rooted in the frequent exploitation of psychoanalytic theories of the patriarchal ‘Other’, what Barry Keith Grant identifies as the ‘dread of difference’. Recent horror film theory has suggested that the audience is predominantly young and male (Clover), that the women who appear in these films are either helpless victims (Williams) or abject monsters (Creed), and that when female characters have heroic roles (the Final Girl) they can function only as stand-ins for the teenage boys in the audience (Clover). These theories no longer compliment a genre whose self-awareness often challenges patriarchal expectations. With the growing recognition of female viewers in the horror film audience, onscreen female representations should also be readdressed.
Previous female horror archetypes are frequently limited characterizations, maintaining conventional notions of gender and perpetuating patriarchal demonization of female gender and sexuality within a strictly hetero-gendered, binary structure. In contrast, the female representations in Jaume Collet-Sera’s film, Orphan (2009) present gender difference as the “differences of women from Woman”(De Lauretis), thus destabilizing the opposition of ‘male versus female’, and traditional notions of ‘Woman’. It illustrates alternative character types, such as the anti-hero – or rather the anti-heroine – and the anti-villain, indicating “a return to woman as woman as independently existing.”(Casebier) These two figures correlate through a moment (or moments) of recognition, where commonalities and differences in experience are acknowledged. Ultimately, this film conveys that horror consists of more than the ‘dread of difference’; it is also the shock of similarity."
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Monday, June 27, 2011

Attack of the Killer Heat! Summer Horror for Your Viewing Pleasure

It ain't the heat that's got you sweating…             
  
Horror is the reason for the summer season, so go on and revisit your favourites in horror cinema. Some are classics, some are blockbusters, and yes, some are super cheesy. Even if they have you reaching for a bottle of fine wine just to get the taste out of your mouth, keep in mind that summer horror viewing is not about having a discriminating taste in the terrifying; it's about indulging your crazy cravings for ridiculous carnage.
String up a sheet, prop up your feet, and start one of these gems in your outdoor backyard screening palace.

Jaws (Dir. Steven Spielberg, 1975): What’s that gnashing at your limbs? Why, it’s TERROR! Unleash this classic before you dive in and prove you have the guts to stop from jumping at every seaweed tickle.
Orca(Dir. Michael Anderson, 1977): A lame rip-off, you say? Hardly! This creature will out-swim, out-think and perhaps even out-awesome the mighty Great White shark. It says so in the dialogue. Plus, they have a MUCH bigger boat.
Piranha (Dir. Joe Dante, 1978): Stuck inside on a rainy day?
Need something to gnaw through the deadly boredom? Push ‘Play’
and feast your eyes on these little man-eating beasts.
Zombi 2 (Dir. Lucio Fulci, 1979): Here’s another force greater than the Great White. Try this tropical tale of the undead and watch the ultimate summer horror battle: zombie vs. shark! 
  
Blood Beach (Dir. Jeffrey Bloom, 1981): Planning to be a beach bum this summer? You’ll be sucked into this shoreline bloodbath faster than you can slather on suntan oil.
 Enjoy! 

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Friday, June 24, 2011

Screaming for Outdoor Screenings


Want to re-watch all of your old favourite horror movies, but don’t want to be stuck indoors? 
 
Create your own inexpensive outdoor home theatre and invite friends, family, and neighbours to join you in your fright fests. Lighting, sound, and setting are all crucial elements in a horror movie, so why not set the mood for your horror-thon using a natural environment? With the moonlight casting shadows, and the sound of the wind blowing, twigs snapping, owls hooting, and maybe even a wild animal howling in the background, the outdoor atmosphere will certainly enhance the horror!
Step 1
Locate an exterior wall large enough to hang a solid, light-coloured sheet from – the side of your garage or an outdoor shed or barn works really well. Or, try stretching a sheet out and tying the corners to trees on other side. If you’re really lucky, you might also be able to obtain a projector screen. You can also experiment with different surfaces – try projecting Jaws on a pool!
Step 2
Procure a digital projector and additional audiovisual accoutrements (speakers, cables, DVD player, etc). Basically, beg, borrow, or rent from a friend or neighbour, the office, or an audiovisual equipment rental agency. You might also find reasonable rates at liquidation sales at stores, or at local colleges or universities who are replacing inventory – if nothing else, they might rent out equipment at a lower rate than the average a/v rental agency. There’s nothing more terrifying than huge expenses.
Step 3
Arrange a comfy arena of lawn chairs, outdoor furniture and seats adorned with plush cushions. Add the odd outdoor end table for setting down snacks and drinks. Consider blankets as well – so scaredy-cats have something to hide behind.
Step 4
Plan ahead – watch the forecast for a clear, rain-free evening. A thunderstorm, while hugely appropriate in a haunted house movie, will certainly put a damper on your night. Also, have bug spray or bug-repellent candles (safely) on hand for those muggy or humid nights when creepy crawlers come out to play.
Step 5
Food and refreshments are key - arrange everything in a ‘self-serve’ manner, even it is a BYOB event. Include the usual theatre snacks like popcorn and junior mints in traditional-looking popcorn or candy containers (see your local dollar store), or go with a theme: you can mix it up with messy hot wings and pizza – anything with a red sauce if you’re watching a gory movie. Make sure to fill a large basin with water and ice to hold your canned and bottled (alcoholic?) beverages. Maybe even toss in a gag severed limb or two.
All that’s left is to choose your screening selection, and you can enjoy your Theatre of Terror!


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Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Crime Triangle

  
After missing the screening of J. Blakeson's The Disappearance of Alice Creed (2009) at Montreal's 2010 Fantasia Film Festival, I finally snagged it on Blu-ray yesterday. Once home and armed with popcorn, I pushed 'Play', eager to be dazzled by the purchase of my latest hidden gem.
It can be a gamble buying a movie you have yet to see - you could be stuck with a dud that will collect dust on your shelf (or on your overflow pile of movies that are awaiting a shelf of their own). But, thanks to expectations cultivated by genre formulas, my love of crime fiction, and a recent appreciation of actress Gemma Arterton, I was certain the film was going to be a winner.
And I was captivated.
On the score card for "Me vs. Movie Bin Duds", chalk up a definite point for me.
This British suspense thriller features the familiar minimalist crime triangle that I really enjoy: three key players brought together, vowing to work with one another on a sinister plot, but each vying for the cash prize at the end. Of course, this is all spiced up when a romantic linkage is introduced into the mix. All of these features play out amidst the unravelling of an initially unshakeable scheme that slowly and inevitably goes awry. Danny Boyle's Shallow Grave (1994) also floated into mind as I watched my latest find, as it too illustrates a similar troubling crime triangle, and the common cash trope that money is the solution.
Near the end of the film, it struck me: I was reminded of the adage that three is generally understood to be a crowd, that the third player invariably complicates the situation and screws things up for everyone. But a 'third wheel' in the crime triangle is actually a catalyst.
Rather than compromising the 'right romantic couple' storyline where love wins out, a third player exposes the instability of the romantic dynamic duo's relationship, indicating that it was never going to last anyway. In the crime suspense thriller, forget the frequent exchanges of amorous whisperings; ignore the professions of love and trust; resist the seduction of how saucy the sex scenes may be; these players are in it for the game. When money is involved, it's everyone for themselves.
My advice for those in the crime triangle dilemma: take the money and run.
That's what Alice Creed did.

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Friday, March 4, 2011

Michel Gondry and the Attack of Seasonal Nostalgia

While sitting at my desk, the winter’s bass grumbling outside my window, I stumbled about my daily dose of sites and feeds, and came across the video for Living Sisters’ “How Are You Doing?” directed by French commercial, film, and music video director Michel Gondry. I was entranced by the video, a trisected screen paralleling the trio as they dash in and out of cheery disaster to meet before new life in the end. It prodded me to search out a few of Gondry’s other more recent quirky music video works. 

His whimsical style and emotive visual aesthetics stirred my deadened sensibilities to life; I was going to “Dance Tonight” (2007). Suddenly, I could hear the crinkling of a plastic bag, pale car horns floating on warm breezes, and the sound of flats slapping the pavement as I chased a flock of Kylie Minogues who breathed, “Come into My World” (2002). I wanted to search for summer and twirl on the sidewalk with a chorus line of look-alikes and, as the Chemical Brothers suggest, “Let Forever Be” (1999). I wanted to frollick with swarms of coloured shirts as they wind through the city with Mia Doi Todd in “Open Your Heart” (2010). For a few short hours that afternoon, I was in a “Denial Twist” (2005), a fun-house visual flux, lost in delusions of warm-weather grandeur. I was swept up in a rush of sensations which had me begging for ways to “Declare Independence”(2007) from ho-hum winter, and manipulate my way into a summer still several months away. But it is close, and soon the “Winning Days”(2004) will be here.

I suppose I will just have to be patient and amuse myself with Gondry’s array of music videos, commercials, and movies until summer finally arrives with eternal sunshine for this mind.
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Thursday, February 24, 2011

"They're all gonna laugh at you!": On Horror Film Lecturing


I have seen my share of horror films, or rather, I have seen a lot of people's shares of horror films -- it is a must if you are writing a thesis on the subject. But nothing has unsettled or disturbed me in quite the same way, as when I was preparing to lecture on gender in horror films to a classroom of 300 first-year Film Studies students.

I was offered the opportunity to guest lecture during the genre unit, in the second week on Horror. While I was thrilled for the chance to talk about one of my favorite subjects to a group of young, impressionable minds, and despite my previous forays into theatre which entailed me to perform in front of crowds, the prospect of standing in a vast, cavernous lecture hall, attached to a squealing, static-prone microphone, facing a mass of students as they shuffle in their uncomfortable seats was terrifying.

I was worried: I might forget what I want to say; I might become so nervous that I speed-talk through my material, and finish lecturing twenty minutes early; the equipment might malfunction just to spite me, and leave me standing there, fidgeting angrily with wires and remotes.The
scenarios which crowded my mind began to take on lives of their own, chanting in unison: "Might! Might! Might!"

What if there is a terrible fire and the roof collapses in on the class during my lecture? What if a student snaps and attacks everyone with a large knife? What if aliens burst in and chow down on us before they can be destroyed with heavy artillery? What if I become possessed, and my head starts rotating 360 degrees, and I start spewing projectile vomit all over the podium?

 "They're all gonna laugh at you!"

I knew my imagination was getting out of hand when Margaret White's voice started echoing in my head. How silly! No one is going to dump pig's blood on me while I lecture... Right?

The day of my lecture arrives; I am armed and ready. I find myself standing at the front of the lecture hall, strategically setting up my laptop and cueing up of the day's screening - Halloween (1978). Having recently re-watched the film to scour it for discussion points, I discovered with much disappointment that there was very little gratuitous nudity in this film.  How was I going to demonstrate Linda Williams' ideas of 'excess' with a film that offers a considerable shortage of blood, boobs and butts, especially when compared with recent films like the remake of Friday the 13th (2009), in which a soon-to-be victim is wake-boarding topless, her breasts swaying in the wind, just moments before she is rammed by a boat and brutally ripped apart? 

Deep breath.

The students settle in, so I switch on my microphone and, after a short interlude of adjusting the volume so that I sound like the bespectacled phone service guy from Verizon, and with a thumbs-up from my fellow T.A.s (who sit in the first row, prepared to signal me to slow down, if need be), I begin.

I remember to keep it light and simple as I refer to last's weeks discussion of the central conflict of the horror film (the monster), and how the source of terror evolves over time, just as genre itself does.

I briefly outline industry trajectories: sequels and prequels, the remake and the reboot, trends and waves, etc, etc.

Then I hone in on the roots and changes in the slasher genre, describing its formulaic techniques, from low-lighting to the 'killer cam'. I push 'play' and allow Black Christmas (1974) to entrance them with its extensive opening POV murder sequence.

The rest of the lecture goes smoothly; I crack a few jokes, the students are enthralled in the images on-screen, and most of them take notes (in preparation for an upcoming essay) as I outline the various female representations in horror: from William's idea of the helpless victim [like in Dracula (1931), or The Phantom of the Opera (1925)], to Barbara Creed's depiction of the monstrous-feminine [the titular character in Carrie (1976), or Regan in The Exorcist (1973)], to Carol J. Clover's the Final Girl (Laurie from Halloween, Nancy from A Nightmare on Elm St. (1984)]. I toss out a brief summary of Sue Short's notion of the misfit [Sydney from Scream (1996), Ginger and Brigitte from Ginger Snaps (2000)], before hinting at my own research into the violent woman (see Neroni's book of the same name).

As it comes time to announce the start of the day's screening, students are loudly applauding, either in relief or perhaps out of politeness, but hopefully in appreciation of my hard work and brilliance. 

A get a few pats on the back from my fellow T.A.s, who admire the way I held attention captive with my sharp wit and knowledgeable manner. One colleague leans in and congratulates me on being able to solicit laughter from the students.

It seems Margaret White's echoing words -- less a warning and more a promise -- rang true after all. I leave the lecture hall, positively pleased with myself and, of course, with the fact that I was not drenched in pig's blood.

Lecturing on gender in horror to 300 first-year Film Studies students. 

Terrifying? Ha! Not in the least.

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