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Nowhere’s Most Memorable Monsters: The 13 Best Episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog

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We interrupt this program to bring you our favorite episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog.

This November 2022 makes it twenty years since the Courage the Cowardly Dog series officially ended. A staple in 90s kid memories, Courage the Cowardly Dog ran for four seasons on Cartoon Network from 1999-2002. Directed and created by John R. Dilworth, the series covered a wealth of nightmarish imagery and ideals, ranging from classic horror tropes such as alien abduction and demonic possession to unique frights such as a possessed gangster foot fungus and evil bananas. Only this show could simultaneously deliver some of the most unsettling cartoon frights alongside the silliest resolutions.

Through horror or heartbreak, these are the episodes that made a life-lasting impression through memorable monsters and are forever solidified as my favorite episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog. In solidarity with every season consisting of 13 episodes, this list comprises 13 titles.

13. “The Chicken from Outerspace” (Pilot)

The one that started it all. 90s kids were acquainted with Courage long before the show first premiered in 1999, thanks to this episode. Three years earlier, in 1996, the Cartoon Network series What a Cartoon aired what would serve as the pilot episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog. The VHS release of Scooby-Doo and The Witch’s Ghost also featured this episode. The mental image of Eustace eating the red-spotted alien eggs and turning into a chicken himself still disturbs me today.

12. “The Magic Tree of Nowhere” (S2 Ep1)

One of the only episodes on the list where it is not the shudder-inducing factor that led to its inclusion. This heartfelt story showed that sometimes the regular people are the real monsters. Eustace stops at nothing to destroy the tree which has captured Muriel’s attention. In a fit of jealousy and much to his wife’s and Courage’s dismay, he chops the magic wishing tree down. The tragic tale and the tree’s human mouth (along with nostalgic parallels to Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree) made this episode memorable.

11. “Profiles in Courage” (S4 Ep6)

The carcass that remains after paper cameos with a mind of their own suck the essence from The Bagges is horrific enough alone to bear mention upon this list. The episode doesn’t stop the horror there, however, as Eustace and Muriel are transformed into paper versions of themselves and suffer numerous paper-related catastrophes, including blowing uncontrollably in the wind, a pin through the hand, and catching fire. The hesitant, robotic way in which the paper versions of Eustace and Muriel speak punctuates all the creepy visuals. From start to finish, the episode is shiver-inducing.

10. “Queen of the Black Puddle” (S1 Ep9)

Featuring a water spirit who can arise from any liquid surface, the icon status of this villain alone merits her inclusion. Known for taking on an attractive form for her intended victim, she first seduces them and then drags them to her watery lair. Once they arrive, the queen takes on a hideous shape. Her domain is revealed to be littered with the bones of all of her previous victims.

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The Black Puddle Queen is believed to have the highest kill count versus any other villain in the Courage the Cowardly Dog universe, given the number of skeletons shown in her lair.

9. “Campsite Terror” (S3 Ep2)

As the opening credits and scenes play idyllic classical music (specifically Morning Mood by Edvard Grieg) and open to a shot of the Bagges happily camping in the wilderness, the episode is immediately unsettling. The other shoe will surely drop at any moment. Then night falls. By the time Eustace goes missing, the music has transformed into foreboding organ playing. Enter a robber raccoon duo who kidnaps Muriel and ties up Courage.

While the monsters themselves aren’t scary on their own, the episode’s score bouncing back and forth from peaceful to sinister creates memorable tension. The creepiest part is when Muriel is discovered, with the raccoons unharmed. They are watching something on TV that is scarier than most of the Courage monsters combined: John R Dilworth’s face with dead eyes plastered on old-school Godzilla footage. Nightmare fuel? Oh yes, sir.

8. “The Demon in the Mattress” (S1 Ep3)

After responding to an ad for a “life-changing” new bed, the mattress proves to have a life of its own. The episode quickly becomes reminiscent of The Exorcist as Muriel speaks in a deep voice, and her head begins to spin around. In lieu of Latin bible verses, the Dilworth treatment of the classic horror film sees Eustace performing an exorcism by reciting: “Hullaballoo and howdy do. Musty prawns and Timbuktu”

7. “Journey to the Center of Nowhere” (S1 Ep12)

Something is intriguing about plants wanting to level the playing field and fight back against their predators. Naturally, the episode where Courage discovers a herd of vengeance-seeking eggplants was bound to make this list. When Courage infiltrates the group donning an eggplant costume, we are treated to a taste of eggplant religion as they all begin to hail the Great Eggplant who has spoken.

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They express their desire to get revenge on those who grow them just to eat them, which creates my favorite brand of dichotomy that causes us to ask: “Is the villain evil?”. Though the question would be answered by the end of the episode, as all the eggplants needed was some water to turn them into a bunch of peace-loving, tranquil eggplants once more. Dilworth put gardeners under advisement with this episode: ensure your eggplants get sufficient water.

6. “Everyone Wants to Direct” (S1 Ep9)

Featuring a zombified Benton Tarantella, who advertises himself as a horror director and shows up at the house in the middle of Nowhere. He tells the Bagge family he is there to film a horror movie, to which both Eustace and Muriel are delighted. The true horror of the episode comes into play when Courage asks his computer about the visitor. That’s when he learns the terrifying truth: Benton Tarantella and his partner Errol Von Volkheim used to pose as horror movie directors and enact actual violence.

Though they were both imprisoned and long since deceased, Tarantella rose from the grave to revive his former partner, buried beneath the Nowhere house. Between the deceit, resurrection scene, and the existence of hungry serial killer zombies, this episode had all of the trappings to give little me nightmares.

5. “Perfect” (S4 Ep13)

The episode that ended it all. The finale showed viewers that sometimes our brains are our own worst enemies. Following Courage’s quest to be perfect, he is put through stringent coaching lessons. He suffers a stream of anxiety-induced nightmares until the frightened dog looks arguably worse off than ever depicted in the series. Courage ends the episode with the lesson that no one is perfect, and the quest to be that way can squander opportunities for fun. Only once Courage ignores the rude words of others and marches to the beat of his own drum does he find happiness.

4. “King Ramses Curse” (S1 Ep7)

This episode has become the cult favorite of the series, as it has countless memes and mentions in remembrance. Following King Ramses’s apparition, anyone possessing the cursed slab finds themselves subjected to plagues of water, locusts, and deafening music. But the creepy, ethereal voice of King Ramses made the episode the fan favorite that it is today. “Return the slab or suffer my curse.”

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3. “Freaky Fred” (S1 Ep3)

Speaking in rhymes reminiscent of a crossover between Dr. Seuss and Sweeney Todd, the titular Freaky Fred makes an ominous appearance at his cousin Muriel Bagge’s house, punctuating every rhyming stanza with Fred explaining that he’s been “naughty.” As the episode continues, it becomes clear that Fred’s brand of mischief involves shaving people and pets bald against their wishes. As Fred has Courage cornered in the bathroom and gives him a forced haircut, one thing is sure: Of all the episodes, this one is the most unsettling.

2. “Evil Weevil” (S2 Ep11)

The show begins innocently enough, in Courage terms. Eustace accidentally hits a bug while driving; a human-sized butler bug in a suit, tie, and top hat. Muriel invites the weevil home with them, and he proves to be a pleasant buggy butler. However, it isn’t long before one particularly nightmarish scene shows his hose nose retracting back into him, followed immediately by a shot of an emaciated Eustace. The weevil was evil and was sucking the life force from the Bagges. After Eustace withers to dust and Muriel is reduced to skin and bones, Courage turns the tables by using the weevil’s snout against it. Altogether entertaining, ick-inducing, and horrific. A fantastic episode.

1. “The Great Fusilli” (S1 Ep13)

From the creepy music starting at the title card to a mysterious vehicle that opens to a stage piloted by an Italian alligator telling Eustace and Muriel to “see the stage come alive,” it’s immediately clear that viewers are in for a ride with this one. For many of us 90’s kids, this episode served as our memorable introduction to the linguistic warm-up: “how now, brown cow.” By the end, the creepy images of clowns and freakish disembodied applause were at the back of everyone’s minds.

In my favorite and most remembered moment of the series, Courage stumbles across Fusilli’s room filled with former people-turned puppets. Then strings erupt from the mouths of comedy tragedy masks and turn Eustace and Muriel into marionettes themselves. While not every episode ends on a happy note, this marked a time when he could not save Muriel from the threat. Though he inhibited her from becoming a part of Fusilli’s collection, this did not change the fact that by the end of the episode, Fusilli had turned Courage’s family into lifeless puppets.

Through all these episodes, Courage the Cowardly Dog made a lasting impact on both my childhood and my memory. How many of your favorite episodes made the cut? Is there any you wish had been included? Sound off in the comments, and stream episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog at HBO Max.

A writer by both passion and profession: Tiffany Taylor is a mother of three with a lifelong interest in all things strange or mysterious. Her love for the written word blossomed from her love of horror at a young age because scary stories played an integral role in her childhood. Today, when she isn’t reading, writing, or watching scary movies, Tiffany enjoys cooking, stargazing, and listening to music.

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Finding Gender Freedom in ‘The Curse of the Cat People’ (1944)

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“I’m going to make a deer hunter out of you,” my father told me right after I was born. This was by way of my mother, of course. I had just popped into the world, and already, I was slapped with gender stereotypes of what it means to be a “man.” My father would become woefully disappointed when he later learned I hate hunting. Instead, I played with Barbie dolls, choreographed dances to Britney Spears, and generally did everything a boy or man wasn’t supposed to do. Although I don’t mind fishing and love camping/hiking, the point still stands: I didn’t turn out the way my father (or society) wanted me to. That’s perhaps why I gravitate so much to 1942’s Cat People and its genre-swerving sequel, The Curse of the Cat People (1944).

Exploring Gender Roles in The Curse of the Cat People

Far more drama than horror, The Curse of the Cat People picks up a few short years after its predecessor. Where Cat People explored queerness, the follow-up dove deeper into gender roles and how one little girl learned to embrace herself despite her father’s demands that she be more like the other kids. Irena’s (Simone Simon) tragic death behind them, Oliver (Kent Smith) and Alice (Jane Randolph) move into a posh suburb of Tarrytown, New York, with their adoring daughter Amy (Ann Carter).

Amy is an outsider, ostracized by the other girls, and turns to animals and insects for companionship. Her peculiar behavior not only draws attention from the teacher but her father, who, as we’ve learned already, adheres to strict societal expectations. A young girl should be happy, skipping down the street–gleeful and popular–not detached and “strange.”

One afternoon, Amy wanders down the street and stumbles upon a looming three-story house. Inside are aging socialite Julia Farren (Julia Dean), whom the local kids claim is a witch, and her daughter Barbara (Elizabeth Russell). Julia is just so different, much like Amy. That’s why Amy accepts Julia’s gift of a handkerchief and a wishing ring, on which Amy wishes simply for a friend. Her wish comes true through the manifestation of Irena as a cloaked woman who appears in Amy’s backyard garden. No one else can see her, and Amy finally has the human connection she’s so desperately needed. Through their relationship, Amy comes to understand that self-acceptance is her gateway to personal freedom. She breaks those shackles that have long tied her to Oliver and society’s archaic gender roles.

Growing Up Different: My Own Gender Identity Journey

It took time for me to come to such a realization. I grew up in your typical country town where machismo and camo were rewarded, while femininity was frowned upon. My friends were predominantly girls, and our play-pretend frequently saw me taking on roles of female characters, including Kelly from Saved by the Bell and T-Boz from TLC. I no longer have shame in that. But I also played with trucks, cars, and Power Rangers. There’s a duality that’s always been integral to who I’ve been. Much like Amy, I didn’t fit what society expected of me. My father never had a sit-down with me about how I was acting–except one summer, he forced me to play baseball, where I was bullied by a kid named Chance. The godawful experience taught me who I wasn’t and that there were shades to my identity.

The two decades that followed proved to be tricky. In 2006, when I first came out as a gay man, we didn’t have terms like non-binary. I accepted what society told me about identity; I’ve always landed somewhere in between male and female. I’ve felt a strong sense that my slider scale, so to speak, pushed tightly on the side of womanhood. It wasn’t until 2015 that I began questioning my transness, after seeing the controversial film, The Danish Girl, starring Eddie Redmayne. The way he caressed fabric, an electricity rocketed through my body. “That’s me!” I said to myself. It wasn’t exactly accurate, but I felt a certain type of way.

I was living in New York City at the time, and I can recall every single detail about that night – the way the street smelled on the walk home, the crispness in the winter hair, and the suffocating inner tension that nearly snapped in half. My body, once broken, felt renewal wash over my bones and flesh. The blurriness of my self-portrait became crisper, more detailed, and less fuzzy. 

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Finding My Truth: The Power of Queer Representation

But my journey was far from over. In 2017, I was doomscrolling on Twitter when I stumbled upon a piece actor/producer Natalie Morales had written for Amy Poehler’s Smart Girls, in which Morales came out as queer. “I don’t like labeling myself, or anyone else, but if it’s easier for you to understand me, what I’m saying is that I’m queer,” she wrote. “What queer means to me is just simply that I’m not straight. That’s all. It’s not scary, even though that word used to be really, really scary to me.”

Queerness comes in fractured neons. Each ray scatters a million particles, and all you can do is collect up the pieces that fit and move on. Much like Morales, “I thought I was sick. I know I thought something was really wrong with me,” she continued. “I was ashamed, and I thought I was dirty. I knew that the church said it was wrong and that God said it was wrong (even though I couldn’t exactly figure out why, if it wasn’t hurting anyone).”

I was practically in tears after reading such brutal, self-exposing honesty. It shattered me. Society’s skin-cutting chains rusted through and fell to the ground in that moment. Morales’ queer confession then sent me down a long, winding rabbit hole until I came across the term, genderqueer, or non-binary as it’s also called. There it is, I thought. That’s what I am. I’m both genders at once, existing in a once-non-existent space between the two that has now opened up like a gushing waterfall. All of it, my entire life, came crashing down upon my head, and everything I had ever felt made sense.

Lessons from Amy: Self-Love and Breaking Gender Norms

I suppose that’s the journey Amy took, too. In defying her father, who described her as having “too many fancies and too few friends” and how that wasn’t “normal,” worried that she’d turn out just like Irena, Amy forged a new path forward. With ghost Irena’s help, she learned that not only was she normal, but it was the new frontier. Self-love and acceptance are beautiful things. I’d like to think Amy lived the life Irena wasn’t able to, one step closer to completely decimating society’s backward belief system that’s killed more people than not.

Every time I watch The Curse of the Cat People, I’m always reminded that my identity journey is never really over. I’m just happier now than I was yesterday. Baby steps. Like Amy, I’ve stepped into the sunlight for the first time. My face grows warm by the soft, golden radiance, and I can finally discard everything society has ever had to say about gender. I no longer need those misguided, harmful words filling up my heart and mind. In their place, I’ve fit new puzzle pieces together – gratitude, hope, compassion, love, and freedom – and each day offers exciting possibilities. Dear Amy, I hope you’ve lived a life you had only dreamed of, and that you’re happy. We all deserve to be.

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The Evolution of Female Cannibals in Horror Films and TV

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[This article contains spoilers]

Prior to the disestablishment of the Hays’ Code, filmmakers had to make depictions of cannibalism more palatable, diluting the depravity of the act with humor by concealing body parts in pies. Cannibal horror didn’t truly emerge as a subgenre until 1972’s Man From The Deep River drew controversy and intrigue alike. This film jumpstarted the trend of cannibal films centering on your so-called “civilized man” venturing into desolate, often foreign landscapes, only to be cannibalized by the natives. Modern cannibal media has pushed beyond this cliché narrative, depicting sophisticated cannibals that cook their food like fine dining or turn the horror of the act into something frighteningly sexy. But the kinds of cannibalism we see in film differs significantly depending on the cannibal’s sex.

Evolution of Cannibalism in Horror Media

From Grotesque to Sophisticated Cannibals

Cannibalism media used to be a genre divided into extremes. Your cannibal either had a grotesque, animalistic habit like Leatherface or a deviously delicious and sophisticated palate like Hannibal Lecter; however, as we’ve entered the 21st century, this binary has become more of a spectrum. Audiences don’t want to watch the same reveals of flesh furniture or dinner parties that serve human flesh to unknowing guests. They want cannibalism as metaphors, cannibalism as erotic fixation, and even cannibalism as a connection to the supernatural.

Male Cannibals: Power and Brutality

Be it Hannibal Lecter, Alfred Packer, or a member of the Sawyer family, the first cannibal you think of is likely a man. While most cannibal media has departed from stereotypical portrayals of cannibalism as indicative of some non-Christian barbarity, sterilized, almost surgical cannibalism has become more common but not the norm. Wes Cravens The Hills Have Eyes (1977) present cannibals as inbred savages, trapping and tearing apart whoever comes across their path, yet films like Antonia Bird’s Ravenous (1999) and Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs (1991) portray cannibals as calculated, intelligent, and capable of seizing power despite their brutal actions. The sheer number of cannibal films centering male cannibals has allowed more opportunity to test the boundaries of the genre, but that doesn’t mean we should discount the more recent wave of female-centered cannibal movies.

Rise of Female Cannibals in Modern Media

Female Cannibals in Yellowjackets

Female cannibalism is just now hitting the mainstream as Yellowjackets (2021-present) captivates its audience as it tells the story of what happened to a girls’ soccer team lost in the wilderness. However, while Yellowjackets lets its female protagonists be ravenous and brutal, female cannibals in film are often portrayed as sympathetic and less monstrous than their male counterparts.

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Sympathetic Portrayals in The Hills Have Eyes

In Wes Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes (1977), a family of desert-dwelling cannibals feed off stranded tourists with the male family members brutally attacking, assaulting, and defiling the bodies of their victims; however, Ruby (Janus Blythe), the young daughter of the clan, is characterized as kind and having an aversion to her family’s violent ways, even going as far as opposing her family’s attack and sacrificing herself to protect the tourists’ baby.  Female cannibals like Ruby are often portrayed as self-loathing and disgusted by their actions, unlike their unsympathetic male peers.

Cannibalism as Metaphor in 21st-Century Film

Raw: Cannibalism and Sexual Awakening

As we enter the 21st century, cannibalism in literature and film has evolved, often being a stand-in for sex as a character consumes the flesh of another to satisfy a deep, carnal appetite. Julia Ducournau’s Raw (2016) tells the story of a first-year veterinary student and long-time vegetarian Justine (Garance Marillier), who finds herself with an insatiable hunger for meat after a hazing incident gone wrong.

As she navigates the sexual and ritualistic traditions of the program, Justine often finds her new cravings for flesh, coinciding with sexual pleasure as she attempts to consume her sexual partners. The version of cannibalism created by Raw is sympathetic, humanizing Justine by creating parallels between an obscene act and one that is normalized and commonplace in our society.

Jennifer’s Body: Cannibalism as Revenge

Karyn Kusama’s Jennifer’s Body (2009) takes a supernatural approach, recounting the tragic story of Jennifer (Megan Fox), a teen girl who is sacrificed to a demonic entity only to be resurrected as a man-hungry succubus. When Jennifer rises from the dead, her acts of cannibalism invert the power dynamic imposed on her human body earlier in the film when a band drugs and sacrifices her body to gain a deal with a demonic entity.

Jennifer then seeks revenge on the male sex, consuming them in ways that are just as destructive as the way they imposed themselves upon her. Her cannibalism is an inversion of the violence she suffered as the band overpowered, bound, and sacrificed her to reach musical fame.

Exploring Cannibalism in Yellowjackets

Season 1: Power Dynamics and Survival

As Yellowjackets has completed its third season, the show has attempted to explore cannibalism in relation to queerness, psychology, and pack dynamics. In the show’s first season, we see the formation and shifting of power dynamics within the social structure of the girls’ soccer team, as captain Jackie (Ella Purnell) finds herself ousted from the group’s cabin by Shauna (Sophie Nélisse), resulting in her death. As the Yellowjackets begin to starve, cannibalism is thrust upon them as Jackie’s corpse becomes engulfed in flames, breaking the animal part of the teams’ brains and causing them to feast on their teammates’ flesh. After this shocking finale, the group finds themselves at a crossroads, having to choose their humanity or their survival, with most choosing the latter.

However, Assistant Coach Ben (Steven Krueger) refuses the ritual consumption of Jackie’s flesh, putting him at odds against Shauna and the other Yellowjackets. In this case, cannibalism becomes a rite of passage, drawing a line between those who are willing to survive by any means necessary and those who would rather die than commit such an act.

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Seasons 2 and 3: Guilt and Pack Dynamics

Yellowjackets’ second and third seasons lean further into the sort of Lord of the Flies-esque nature of the show’s premise, exploring the relationship each of the adult characters and their teen equivalents have to the cannibalistic events of the first season. Shauna internalizes and hardens around the guilt surrounding Jackie’s death, displaying a clear crack in her composure as she finds herself tormented by illusions of Jackie.

In some ways, the consumption of Jackie serves as a means of keeping her at the forefront of Shauna’s attention, her guilt corrupting and turning her into a more cruel, violent version of herself to align with how she is portrayed in the show’s adult timeline. In some ways, this psychological effect of cannibalism mirrors that seen by more sophisticated cannibals such as Hannibal Lecter in the TV series Hannibal.

While Shauna isolates, the group finds themselves battling with the nature of their survival, with the other girls conspiring to create a method for fairly determining who they’ll have to cannibalize next. The group settles on a game of cards, where one unlikely drawer will be hunted for sport by the group, either ending up the groups’ next meal or successfully escaping into the freezing wilderness.

This kind of organized game displays a unique example in the context of female cannibalism, marrying the more cerebral decision-making seen in other female cannibals with the pack dynamics seen in movies like Texas Chain Saw Massacre.

Queerness and Cannibalism in Season 3

The show’s third season dives deeper into the inherent queerness of cannibalism in the Yellowjackets universe, as Taissa (Tawny Cypress), an ousted politician who struggles to hold her family together as the events of the wilderness impact her behavior, re-explores her relationship with fellow lover and Yellowjacket Van (Lauren Ambrose).

As Van struggles with a cancer battle, Taissa finds her mind drawn back to the wilderness, wondering if a sacrifice of blood is what is needed to prevent the nebulous entity known as the Wilderness from claiming Van’s life; however, while this theory proves at least somewhat correct, Van dies by another Yellowjackets’ hand, but the grief-stricken Taissa performs one last sickening act, consuming one of Van’s raw organs in almost a means to remain ever close with her now lost love. 

Redefining Female Cannibals in Horror

Justified Violence and Human Complexity

Female cannibals in film are often justified in their violence, slicked in gore, but excused of the filth of the act. They don’t often get to keep heads on plates in their freezers or wear a necklace of their victims’ ears. The brutality of their acts can’t be reduced to shock value, because these films acknowledge that there is a human component to their violence. They aren’t animals reduced to eating human flesh for the sake of it. They make the decision to do so.

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While there aren’t many female cannibals that lean into the filth of the act, maybe it is better that way. This archetype of a disgusting, subhuman cannibal who savors the act and displays heads on sticks is one based in historical assumptions of what it meant to be a cannibal. There is a racial component to attributing cannibalism to a foreign savagery, contradictory to the fact that many classic cannibal movies like The Hills Have Eyes are based on American or European accounts of cannibalism. Reducing cannibals to caricatures turns them trope-y and repetitive.

Modern cannibal stories, especially those centering on female characters, push the boundaries of the genre. Cannibalism can also be a trauma response, a devastating outcome to an unfortunate circumstance, or something that empowers and flips power structures. While the cannibal subgenre may be looked down upon due to its history, modern filmmakers continue proving that cannibalism isn’t as simple as eating human flesh. 

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