Editorials
Maila Nurmi, Vampira: Transgressive Sexuality & Queer Connections in 1950s America
Vampira and Elvira were not friends. Maila Nurmi, known primarily as Vampira, the original horror hostess of the 1950s, was a complicated, enigmatic, and profound woman. Amid 1950s-era misogyny, Vampira miraculously emerged among the smiling white housewives that plastered homemaking magazines and the objectified, doe-eyed young women in gentlemen’s magazines such as Playboy. Nurmi used these harmful images to her advantage, luring ogling men with her sleek black dress and come-hither voice, then subjecting them to her dominatrix attitude and piercing scream. Not to mention, B horror movies!
“The shock value of Vampira,” explains W. Scott Poole in his book Vampira: Dark Goddess of Horror (2014), “came from her refusal to submit to the male gaze. She wanted to attack it instead […]. Vampira represented both homage and satire of the pin-up tradition. Cheesecake came with a heavy dose of gothic morbidity and transformed the sexual politics and imagery of mid-century America into a sandbox she could play in.” Nurmi’s albeit-brief success as a late-night horror hostess on The Vampira Show in the 1950s paved the way for her predecessor, Cassandra Peterson.
Elvira’s Emergence: Cassandra Peterson’s Homage to Vampira
Peterson, known worldwide as the seductive and hilarious Elvira, modeled her Valley Goth Girl horror hostess character after Nurmi’s sexy macabre creation decades earlier. Studio executives advocated this aesthetic decision after Peterson tried first to have her character be more of an homage to the late Sharon Tate. Unfortunately, Nurmi did not appreciate the executives’ directive decision and took Elvira’s eventual stardom as a slap in the face. Despite Peterson’s consistent admiration for Nurmi’s Vampira, Nurmi would never accept Elvira as anything but a knockoff.
However, the women had more similarities than Nurmi may have understood. Not only did both women share a seemingly spiritual bond with Elvis Presley, having both met and shared intimate conversations with the icon nearly a decade apart in Las Vegas, but they have both advocated for the marginalized and have clear connections to the queer community throughout their careers and personal lives. Camp and transgressive sexuality play a central role in their legacies as mistresses of the dark.
Vampira and Elvira’s Impact on the LGBTQ+ Community
Peterson came out publicly as queer in her recent bestselling memoir Yours Cruelly, Elvira: Memoirs of the Mistress of the Dark (2021) after decades of being titillation for male horror fans (of which she lost many after her coming out). Throughout her life, Nurmi interacted with queerness through comics, friendships, and politics. Though we may never know for sure if her queer connections go beyond the platonic and salutatory, we do know that based on her life story, particularly as it is portrayed in Poole’s 2014 book as well as filmmaker R.H. Greene’s 2012 documentary Vampira & Me, she was an ally who inspired countless queer folks to be their authentic, creepy, campy selves. Critics and normals be damned.
From a young age, Maila was unafraid to explore the boundaries of gender expression, particularly in comics and in the theater. Her favorite comic strip, Milton Caniff’s Terry & the Pirates, which debuted in 1934, offered sci-fi adventure mixed with subversion. Her obsession with the villainous character of The Dragon Lady, a Chinese pirate queen, followed her throughout her life and helped to develop her ethos as a performer.
The strip “offered transgressive visions of women and sexuality,” and by 1940, Caniff introduced Sanjak, a villain whose character is named after a Greek island near Lesbos. “Caniff,” explains Poole, “portrayed Sanjak as a French woman who cross-dresses by wearing a men’s uniform and had a monocle…”. Maila would also cross-dress in her high school Rhythm Club performances; one yearbook photo shows her as a vaudevillian “Chaplin-esque looking sailor.”
Vampira’s Bohemian Roots: Greenwich Village and Queer Allies
After graduation, Maila set her sights on New York City’s beatnik enclave of Greenwich Village. There, she associated herself with like-minded dreamers, poets, and activists. One such connection was Harry Hay, the gay communist organizer and founder of the Mattachine Society in 1950. This would not be the only time she associated herself with known queer figureheads and creatives. For instance, Maila debuted the rough draft for Vampira at Lester Horton’s Bal Caribe Halloween extravaganza.
“The Bal Caribe,” Poole states, “represented the most outré gathering in 1950s Hollywood that brought together the city’s gay elite, political radicals, and a hefty portion of campy glamour. Horton had long been part of Hollywood’s gay scene.” Maila would go on to win Best Costume – Vampira found her first audience.
Friends of Vampira, James Dean and Liberace
As her infamy grew with The Vampira Show (1954-1955), she met her “soulmate,” James Dean. Dean, the up-and-coming enigmatic young actor who lit Hollywood ablaze, was the subject of several rumors linking him to queer Hollywood and romantically to Maila, though the infatuation appears to have been one-sided. Dean himself was bisexual, though he never came out publicly. Another closeted Hollywood fixture, Liberace, paled around with Nurmi in Las Vegas in 1956. She joined his flamboyant nightclub act as the “local TV glamour ghoul” though her true role remains unclear. According to Nurmi, at one of Liberace’s performances, an audience member yelled “Liberace is a f**!” Nurmi spat on the heckler.
Ed Wood and Plan 9 from Outer Space
As Vampira/Maila’s star power was being extinguished thanks to the sudden cancelation of The Vampira Show, Maila was approached by B-movie director Ed Wood to star in his low-budget sci-fi alien zombie flick Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959). At this point in his personal life, Wood was known to be a cross-dresser, as alluded to in his semi-autobiographical gender horror flick Glen or Glenda (1953). While Maila in later interviews lambasted Wood’s ability to write dialogue, she accepted the role in Plan 9 for $200 due to financial troubles, which would follow her until she died in 2008.
Vampira vs Elvira: The Legendary Feud
In 1980, following a long drought in her acting career, executives at the cable network KHJ-TV wanted to revamp the horror hostess for a new generation. They approached Nurmi, though they intended to cast someone much younger. Nurmi initially agreed to the project to help find and train a new Vampira. However, she quickly grew disillusioned by the deal after the network supposedly rejected her idea of having either BIPOC actresses Lola Falana or Martine Beswick as the hostess. After Groundlings alum Cassandra Peterson was signed on, and the producers decided she would dress similarly to Vampira, Nurmi felt cheated.
She would go on to sue both Peterson and the producers, but she couldn’t follow through in part due to a lack of funds. “The inventor is rarely honored for anything,” stated Nurmi in Greene’s documentary (2012). “I pity those people,” meaning, the copycats, most likely referring to Peterson. In her autobiography, Peterson describes the situation as unfortunate. Elvira became the most popular horror hostess of the genre, but Peterson insisted she did not mean to insult Nurmi with her spin on Vampira’s original look. It was in the meetings with KHJ-TV executives that Peterson first heard of Vampira, and until then, thought Vampira was just a generic name for a female vampire.

Lola Falana Martine Beswick
Camp, Queerness, and Cultural Subversion
It is interesting how many closeted (and open) queer people Maila Nurmi attracted during her fame. Whether it be her camp sensibilities; her willingness to openly scoff at and reject social norms and gender roles; or her dedication to her role as Vampira, the spookiest, sexiest woman in town; queers felt comfortable in her presence in the hostile environment of 1950s America. Maila’s entire persona and dedication to performance art inspired countless drag looks for decades, including Peterson’s Elvira, a character beloved by the queer community. One can posit that, under less professional circumstances, Cassandra and Maila might have been friends or at least acquaintances, should the drama between the two creatives and the selfish actions of studio executives never occurred.
A Subversive Burlesque of American Culture
History doesn’t repeat: it rhymes. Peterson’s campy Valley Girl/Goth Royalty Elvira was an ode to Nurmi’s satirical Beat Generation ghoul Vampira. Likewise, Charles Addams’s subversive matriarch, The Ghoul/Morticia, inspired Vampira. Each was a variation of the other, all transgressive in their respective periods. “American culture had become a subversive burlesque,” writes Poole, “a sideshow with a sense that performing cultural identity always means some level of love and theft.”
Maila Nurmi’s Enduring Influence: A Queer Icon
Maila Nurmi personifies the power one can wield when being their own eccentric and kooky self. It is no wonder that queer people felt comfortable around her and continue to be inspired by what Vampira stands for. Vampira, for many, was a barren temptress who cared not about your opinions or classifications. It didn’t matter the social mores or gender roles of the period: when Vampira appeared on screen in the L.A. area, she tore up the rulebook and refused to compromise on her art, even when starving and penniless. Queers were transfixed by her one or two years of fame. They, as well as punks and goths, stood by her as her career took a downturn, bringing her food and gigs in her later years. These groups continue to conjure the ghoul goddess through drag. Maila Nurmi will always be a dark icon of the weirdos; her impact is not lost on us queers.
Check out R.H. Greene’s documentary Vampira & Me (2012) on Tubi!
Scott Poole’s book Vampira: Dark Goddess of Horror (2014) is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Soft Skull Press.
Cassandra Peterson’s Yours Curelly, Elvira: Memoirs of the Mistress of the Dark (2021) is available wherever books are sold.
Editorials
Is ‘Scream 2’ Still the Worst of the Series?
There are only so many times I can get away with burying the lede with an editorial headline before someone throws a rock at me. It may or may not be justified when they do. This article is not an attempt at ragebaiting Scream fans, I promise. Neither was my Scream 3 article, which I’m still completely right about.
I do firmly believe that Scream 2 is, at the very least, the last Scream film I’d want to watch. But what was initially just me complaining about a film that I disregard as the weakest entry in its series has since developed into trying to address what it does right. You’ve heard of the expression “jack of all trades, master of none”, and to me Scream 2 really was the jack of all trades of the franchise for the longest time.
It technically has everything a Scream movie needs. Its opening is great, but it’s not the best of them by a long shot. Its killers are unexpected, but not particularly interesting, feeling flat and one-dimensional compared to the others. It has kills, but only a few of them are particularly shocking or well executed. It pokes fun at the genre but doesn’t say anything particularly bold in terms of commentary. Having everything a Scream movie needs is the bare minimum to me.
But the question is, what does Scream 2 do best exactly? Finding that answer involves highlighting what each of the other sequels are great at, and trying to pick out what Scream 2 has that the others don’t.
Scream 3 Is the Big Finale That Utilizes Its Setting Perfectly
Scream as a series handily dodges the trap most horror franchises fall into: rehashing and retreading the same territory over and over. That’s because every one of its films are in essence trying to do something a little different and a little bolder.
Scream 3 is especially bold because it was conceived, written, and executed as the final installment in the Scream series. And it does that incredibly well. Taking the action away from a locale similar to Woodsboro, Scream 3 tosses our characters into the frying pan of a Hollywood film production. Despite its notorious number of rewrites and script changes (one of which resulted in our first solo Ghostface), it still manages to be a perfect culmination of Sidney Prescott’s story.
I won’t repeat myself too much (go read my previous article on the subject), but 3 is often maligned for as good a film as it turned out to be. And for all of its clunkier reveals, and its ghost mom antics, it understands how to utilize its setting and send its characters off into the sunset right.
Scream 4’s Meta Commentary Wakes Scream from a Deep Sleep
As Wes Craven’s final film, Scream 4 has a very special place in the franchise. It was and still is largely adored for bringing back the franchise from a deep 11-year sleep. With one of the craziest openings in any horror film, let alone a Scream film, it sets the tone for a bombastic return and pays off in spades with the journey it takes us on.
Its primary Ghostface Jill Roberts is a fan favorite, and for some people, she is the best to ever wear the mask. Its script is the source of many memorable moments, not the least of which is Kirby’s iconic rapid-fire response to the horror remakes question. And most importantly, it makes a bold and surprisingly effective return for our main trio of Sidney, Dewey, and Gale, whose return didn’t feel trite or hammy when they ended up coming back to Woodsboro for more.
Craven’s work on 4 truly understands the power its predecessors had exerted on the horror genre, both irreverent in its metacommentary and celebratory of the Scream series as a whole. The film is less of a love letter to the genre and more of a kicking down of the door to remind people what Scream is about. 4’s story re-established that Scream isn’t going away, no matter how long it takes for another film, and no matter how many franchises try to take its place.
Scream 5 & 6 Is Radio Silence’s Brutal and Bloody Attitude Era
Put simply, Scream 5 and 6’s strong suit was not its characters. It was not its clever writing. The Radio Silence duology in the Scream series excelled in one thing: beating the hell out of its characters.
Wrestling fans (of which there is an unsurprising amount of crossover with horror fans) will know why I call it the Attitude Era. Just like WWE’s most infamous stretch of history, Radio Silence brought something especially aggressive to their entries. And it’s because these films were just brutal. Handing the reins to the series, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillet gifted a special kineticism to the classic Scream chase sequences, insane finales, and especially its ruthless killers.
All five of the Ghostfaces present in 5 and 6 are the definition of nasty. They’re unrelenting, and in my humble opinion, the freakiest since the original duo of Stu Macher and Billy Loomis. Getting to hear all the air get sucked out of the room as Dewey is gutted like a fish in 5 was still an incredible moment to experience in theatres, and it’s something I don’t think would have happened if the films were any less mean and any less explosively violent.
So, What Does Scream 2 Do Best Exactly?
So now, after looking at all these entries and all of their greatest qualities, what does Scream 2 have that none of the others do? What must I concede to Scream 2?
Really great character development.
Film is a medium of spectacle most of the time, and this is reflected in how we critique and compliment them. It affects how we look back on them, sometimes treating them more harshly than they deserve because they don’t have that visual flash. But for every ounce of spectacle Scream 2 lacks, I have to admit, it does an incredible job of developing Sidney Prescott as a character.
On a rare rewatch, it’s clear Neve Campbell is carrying the entirety of Scream 2 on her back just because of how compelling she makes Sidney. Watching her slowly fight against a tide of paranoia, fear, and distrust of the people around her once more, watching her be plunged back into the nightmare, is undeniably effective.
It’s also where Dewey and Gale are really cemented as a couple, and where the seeds of them always returning to each other are planted. Going from a mutual simmering disrespect to an affectionate couple to inseparable but awkward and in love is just classic; two people who complete each other in how different they are, but are inevitably pulled back and forth by those differences, their bond is one of the major highlights throughout the series.
Maybe All the Scream Films Are Just Good?
These three characters are the heart of the series, long after they’ve been written out. I talk a big game about how Scream 3 is the perfect ending for the franchise, but I like to gloss over the fact that Scream 2 does a lot of the legwork when it comes to developing the characters of Dewey, Gale, and especially Sidney.
Without 2, 3 just isn’t that effective when it comes to giving Sidney her long deserved peace. Without 2, the way we see Sidney’s return in 4 & 5 doesn’t hit as hard. All of the Scream movies owe something to Scream 2 in the same way they owe something to the original Scream. I think I’ve come to a new point of view when it comes to the Scream franchise: maybe there is no bad entry. Maybe none of them have to be the worst. Each one interlinks with the others in their own unique way.
And even though I doubt I will ever really love Scream 2, it has an undeniable strength in its character writing that permeates throughout the whole franchise. And that at the very least keeps it from being the worst Scream film.
Editorials
The Halloween Franchise Peaked With H20 Here’s Why
I’m going to begin this conversation with a sort of insane thought. Halloween as a franchise maybe should have ended with its first film.
That’s not to say there’s no value in the Halloween films. Much to the contrary, I like the first three films a lot. I recommend Halloween 3: Season of the Witch to people an annoying amount; I even try to watch it a few times every October to keep the vibes up. And as you already know from clicking on this article, I enjoy Halloween H20: 20 Years Later quite a bit.
I’ve even softened up on the Rob Zombie remake duology over the years. I don’t like them, but it’s like getting flowers, I can still appreciate them. However, Halloween, as a series, has long suffered from its own success. And sometimes, it feels like it’s just going to keep suffering.
HALLOWEEN’S FIRST BOLD CHOICE AFTER 16 YEARS OF WAITING
It’s easy to forget that John Carpenter’s original Halloween was effectively the Paranormal Activity of its time. Flipping a cool $70 million and change off of a $300,000 budget, it has had a genuinely immeasurable impact on the cinematic landscape and how horror films are made.
For some, that’s a bad thing. Notoriously, my beloved 3rd entry in the franchise was considered a hard misstep by audiences. Everyone knows the story; the resounding “Where’s Michael?” response to the third entry gunned down Carpenter’s desires to turn Halloween into an anthology series. So, after going into hiding for 5 years, Halloween 4 continued the story of Michael in 1988.
And then it just kept going.
As the years went on, it became progressively harder and harder to innovate, resulting in some very odd plotlines and tones. Which is why Halloween H20 is where the franchise peaked. Because it had a rare essence to it. It had guts.
It was willing to actually kill the series once and for all, even if it was impossible to do so.
EVIL DOESN’T DIE TONIGHT, THE CONTRACT SAYS SO
Before David Gordon Green’s reboot trilogy brought Laurie back as a Sarah Connor style badass, H20’s pre-production had reinvented Strode to usher in the 20th anniversary of the first film. She went from a resilient young woman into a traumatized survivor running from her past.
The original concept for Halloween H20 involved a substance abusing Laurie Strode trying to get clean so she could die with dignity against an escaped Michael. In a turn of events, she would find the will to live and kill him once and for all. It was a concept Jamie Lee Curtis was passionate about, understandably so. Laurie wasn’t the first final girl, but she was the codifier for that ideal, in a way Jess Bradford and Sally Hardesty before her weren’t. It would have made for a harrowing exploration of what was debatably the most important final girl ever.
That isn’t what happened.
There is an infamous video from a Q&A panel with Jamie Lee Curtis where she explains that the blame for Michael surviving H20 lies primarily with one man: the late great Moustapha Akkad. Akkad was famous for his business acumen, but that desire to see the Halloween franchise make bankroll had ultimately stolen away Laurie’s triumphant victory over Michael.
You see, Akkad had written a clause into the contracts surrounding the film. A clause that she could not, in no uncertain terms, kill Michael Myers. Michael would live, no matter what Laurie did. But thanks to the meddling mind of Scream creator Kevin Williamson, who had been brought on to work on the screenplay for H20, Laurie did get her vengeance in a way.
LAURIE STRODES RETURN DONE RIGHT
The actual H20 follows Laurie Strode in hiding years after Halloween 2, ignoring the events of the sequels. She’s the headmistress of a boarding school, living under a fake name far from Haddonfield with her son. But still, she can’t let go of that Halloween night. She sees Michael’s face, The Shape, everywhere. She can barely stomach talking about what happened. But when Michael kills Dr. Loomis, nurse Marion Chambers, and then finds her, Laurie is forced to face her greatest fear once and for all.
And she does. After a prolonged chase and fight on the grounds of the school, she refuses to let a wounded Michael be taken into custody. Stealing a cop’s gun and an ambulance, Laurie runs Michael off a cliff and pins him against a tree with the vehicle. She shares a brief moment with him, inscrutable eyes reflecting Michael’s. They could be expressing a number of possible emotions. Is it empathy? Hatred? Pity? Fear leaving her for the final time?
Regardless of what it is, she’s done feeling it. With a hefty swing, she decapitates him with a fire axe, ending Michael for the last time. It’s over.
Roll credits. Audience cheers. The world is healing.
AND THEN HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION HAPPENS
Yes, and then Halloween: Resurrection happens. Laurie is killed in the first few minutes, revealing that Michael pulled the old bamboozle switcheroonie in the previous film. She had actually just killed an ambulance driver that Michael had put the mask on. Williamson’s trick of making both Laurie and the audience believe they had killed Michael worked. But that same trick curled a finger on the monkey’s paw and led to what is definitively the worst film in the franchise.
A proto-internet streamer subplot. The kid from Smart House is there for some reason. Busta Rhymes hits Michael Myers with the Charlie Murphy front kick from that one Dave Chappelle sketch about Rick James.
Roll credits. The audience boos. Everyone who spent money on it feels like they’re being stamped to death by horses.
HALLOWEEN AS A FRANCHISE IS TERRIFIED OF ENDINGS
And this is why I say that Halloween H20 is probably the best we’re going to get out of the series, maybe ever. It is a series that, at its core, has had producers terrified of endings since even Halloween 2. Carpenter never intended there to be a sequel, or any follow ups for that matter. That was mostly the work of producer Irwin Yablans, who pushed hard to continue the story of Michael. And then, eventually, it was the work of every other producer who demanded they milk Halloween for all its worth.
H20 is a film that is antithetical to that idea. When watched as intended, ignoring Resurrection, it’s fantastic. As the end of Laurie and Michael’s story, one that shows evil is weak without fear to bolster it, it is pretty much the perfect finale. Hot off the heels of Scream’s success in 1996, H20 is often talked about as an attempt to cash in on the meta-horror craze of the 90s and early 2000s. The way people discuss it, you would think it was supposed to be a tongue-in-cheek slasher that made fun of itself and Halloween’s legacy. But in reality, aside from its humor, it ends up being quite reflective and thoughtful of that legacy.
It’s not spiteful of the films that came before it because it ends by tricking the audience. It’s what that trick represents, boldly spitting in the eye of Halloween being held prisoner for money. Mocking Halloween being stuck in an eternal cycle of rinsing and repeating the same events. It doesn’t care about franchising or longevity; it cares about telling a good story and letting its hero rest. It’s respectful to Carpenter’s creation in a way that other attempts to continue the series simply weren’t.
H20 TELLS AN ENDING, HALLOWEEN ENDS TRIES TO SELL YOU ONE
It begs the question: why does H20 work here in how it ends the series, but Halloween Ends doesn’t?
All of Ends biggest issues stem from the fact that, unlike H20, it’s trying to sell you an ending instead of making one that feels right. The maudlin closer it gives doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel true to the Laurie it shows us, or any other iteration of the character for that matter. It doesn’t feel genuinely emotional in any regard.
And that’s because Ends as a whole doesn’t have the spirit that H20 does. Ends is, first and foremost, a highlight reel reminding you of how cool Halloween is instead of understanding why any of its previous entries were effective. From its marketing to its incredibly clunky climax, it feels like it’s an advertisement for never letting go of Halloween, even when it should have been done a while ago. And that’s just the wrong lesson to leave on.
JANET LEIGH’S CAMEO IN H20 SPEAKS VOLUMES
Halloween H20 has a pretty famous cameo from Janet Leigh in it, an OG scream queen and the real-life mother of Jamie Lee Curtis. In it, they have a heart-to-heart as fictional characters Laurie Strode and Norma Watson. It’s made more impactful when you realize it was Leigh’s penultimate film performance, and her final performance in a horror film.
The moment serves as a cute in-joke on their real-life relationship, but more than that, it foreshadows the film’s ending. Norma urges Laurie to move past her fear, to relish her future as a survivor instead of being caught up in the past and reliving the same night over and over again.
I find this scene even more poignant now, seeing how neatly it reflects on what has happened to Halloween as a franchise in the years since the original, and especially since H20. It’s a series that got stuck in trying to continue the same story and just got progressively worse at it. In some way, it feels like it’s urging us to make a choice. No matter how deep a legacy of fear may be, it must come to an end at some point. There is no need to cling to the same stories over and over. We can enjoy them for what they are without returning to them.
No matter what the future of the Halloween franchise is, only a viewer themselves can choose where the story ends. It doesn’t matter how many times the studio brings him back, you have to make the choice. Only you decide when it ends. And for my money, H20 is the best ending you can ask for.


