It is generally accepted that the final girl in late-twentieth-century slashers evidences a “moral integrity mark[ing] [her] as special” (Gill 19). Less discussed, however, has been the final girl as a mother figure who, in contrast with her peers, shows traditional maternal values (Christensen 40). These maternal qualities include “female self-sacrifice and motherly love” (Nickerson 14). Traditionalists often emphasized motherhood as the most fulfilling outlet for women’s special qualities as “life-bearers” (Jepson 340). The final girl in slasher horror films exhibits many of the traditional womanly qualities of caretaker and comforter.
“Talk About Ni’Jah, Get Stung”: Unpacking Swarm, a Sweet Take on Slashers
Guest PostThe horror genre is currently experiencing an interesting slasher renaissance. Our favorite masked killers such as Leatherface, Ghostface, and Michael Myers have all seen reboots, sequels, and even requels in the last few years. However, not all slasher fans have been satisfied with these remakes and have been itching for a new take on the slasher that isn’t just a gorier remake of the original. Janine Nabers and Donald Glover’s new series Swarm is a fresh take on the classic subgenre that gives us all of the gore without the killer hiding behind a mask. Rather, our slasher is a Black person who kills whenever they must to protect their goddess, pop star Ni’Jah.
Played by Dominique Fishback, Andrea Green, “Dre,” is a part of a larger group of Ni’Jah fans called the swarm. If this group sounds familiar, you’re not mistaken as this group is meant to represent the Beyonce stans’ BeyHive. What Naber and Glover seem to be homing in on is the toxic nature of fandom, exploring how far a fan will go to meet their favorite artist. However, what I find most salient in this series is the subversion of the slasher subgenre and the exploration of what happens to a Black Queer child who is left unprotected by their community. Dre’s character tells us that when everyone and everything casts you out of society, the only place left to run to is a Ni’Jah concert. Read more
Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey – The Representational Dangers of “Fun” Horror
Guest PostHorror films provide paradoxical feelings of fear and fun, offering ways of navigating societal darkness while simultaneously giving us humorous delight. In the case of, Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey (Rhys Frake-Waterfield, 2023), it punches up toward Disney IP and punches down on marginalized audiences. However, the film ultimately spends far more time doing the latter, with its violence and aggression squarely trained on women. Any attempt to speak back to larger forms of power—like Disney’s draconian use and expansion of intellectual property law to protect its economic interests to the detriment of creativity and play—ultimately becomes a fig leaf for what this film really wants to do: dehumanize, sexualize, and punish women.
This is a spoiler-free review. A spoiler-filled one will come later on when Scream is accessible to people who may prefer not to venture into a movie theater quite yet.
There are no bad Scream (1996) sequels. After Wes Craven took us to Woodsboro for the first time in 1996, he returned to Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) and that dreaded Ghostface mask three more times, and while none of the subsequent films reached the heights of the first, they each more than justified their inclusion in the franchise. Scream 2 (1997) positively vibrates with the joy Craven and company take in skewering sequels while nonetheless navigating powerful arcs for Sidney, Gale (Courteney Cox), and Dewey (David Arquette). Plus, Sidney’s play rehearsal remains one of the single most fascinating set pieces in any of the films. Scream 3 (2000) is a bit schlocky, yes, but injecting more camp into the franchise while moving the needle on industry satire is delicious. Scream 4 (2011) goes back to Woodsboro with flair and the best script since the original. That is, until Scream (2022) came along to crash the party.
When Siskel and Ebert famously launched their offensive against what they labeled as “Women in Danger films,” they effectively positioned slasher films as anti-feminist, exploitative, and lacking all artistic merit. But in the intervening years, this once much maligned sub-genre has enjoyed increasing acclaim for its subversive potential and reflection of cultural norms. This special issue seeks to examine the elements of the “new slasher” that potentially explain this shift.
We invite submissions on any 21st century slasher film(s). Emerging and advanced scholars, popular writers, and fans are invited to submit abstracts on any aspect of the sub-genre. We are especially interested in abstracts that engage with slasher film conventions. Possible topics include, but are not limited to:
- Slasher tropes reimagined
- Performance and identity
- The impact of critical acclaim upon horror’s association with ‘low-brow’ culture
- Monstrous nature and its evolution
- How camp and pastiche code audience reception
- Reboots and audience expectation
- Location and narrative dread
- Horror sub-genre crossovers
- Engagement with postmodernist theory
- Reflection of societal taboo
We would especially like to include articles on: Freaky, Halloween, Tucker and Dale vs. Evil, Black Christmas, and All the Boys Love Mandy Lane.
Please submit abstracts of 500 words and a brief bio to Dawn Keetley and Elizabeth Erwin at horrorhomeroom@gmail.com and dek7@lehigh.edu by July 15, 2020. Articles will be limited to 2,500 words and should be written for a general audience. Completed essays will be due September 15, 2020. We welcome all questions and inquiries!