Editorials
Clea DuVall: The Unsung Queer Icon of 90s and 00s Horror
Some people may find themselves tragically unaware of who Clea DuVall is. Even those who don’t know her name most certainly know her face. Clea DuVall is the alternative queer icon of the 90s and 00s you’ve seen in many movies and shows.
Coming Out in a Closeted Era
However, despite becoming a queer icon early on in her career with memorable roles in But I’m a Cheerleader and The Faculty, it wasn’t until 2016 that Clea DuVall officially came out to the public. Clea DuVall explained that to those closest to her, she came out as a lesbian at sixteen. As far as society at large was concerned, though, she told The Independent:
“I was very closeted and very afraid of people finding out I was gay […] It was the nineties; there was no conversation about sexuality – you were just not going to talk about it.”
She went on to tell The Independent that the release of cult favorite coming-of-age lesbian flick But I’m a Cheerleader was difficult since she was still in the closet at the time:
“It was dangerous for me […] It was such a scary time. Once it came out and we started the press cycle for it, I remember feeling like, ‘Oh shit, I need to hide, I need to stop.’”
The Struggle of Queer Identity
Clea DuVall’s anxiety about how society would react is the sad reality for many who live outside of heteronormative sexuality. How many remain in the shadows, not just because it’s no one else’s business, but because we’re afraid of how people will react?
I came out as bisexual as a teenager, although these days, if I had to label it, I’d consider myself pan (though 92% of the people in my life don’t know it). I am happily married, so frequently, I feel my sexuality is irrelevant – you won’t hear me talk about it often. However, Clea DuVall meant a lot to me in those years before and while I was coming out, feeling weird and isolated from everyone else.
A Beacon for the Queer Community
Even before publicly claiming her queerness, Clea DuVall was a queer icon and a reminder to those of us in the shadows that we weren’t alone. Given Clea DuVall’s significant importance to me, and so many others, it seems the perfect time to reflect on a few of her major roles in horror that gave queer representation and girl power, painting a landscape of the times.
The Faculty: Missed Opportunity for Lesbian Representation
When people think Clea DuVall in horror, the first thing that comes to mind tends to be The Faculty, where a team of teenagers tees off against a parasitic alien race controlling their teachers’ bodies. If anyone wants a snapshot of the 90s gothic grunge, look no further than Clea DuVall’s role as Stokely in this film.
Stokely captured just about everything that makes Clea DuVall’s characters so magnetic. She is clever, with a tough exterior, a sensitive side, and the ability to do what needs to be done. In another layer of depth, Stokely is a lesbian and is relentlessly bullied for it.
A Disappointing Twist
However, the movie quickly shoots itself in the foot by having Stokely proclaim at the end that she made up being a lesbian just to stir the pot, and she ends up with a male jock hero. Oh, the severity of the cringe.
While there are some obvious nods to the 80’s hit The Breakfast Club with this ending (as the “Basket Case” ends up with the jock, this time not totally transforming herself at least), the film missed an opportunity to follow through on lesbian representation.
Instead, it instituted more problematic stereotypes (such as people not being taken seriously about their sexual orientation, for starters.)
The 90s Cultural Context
I understand that being bisexual wasn’t regularly recognized in the mainstream in the nineties but come on. She could have at least been bi. It’s as if the film toys with the idea of introducing an iconic lesbian horror character but then changes their minds right at the end. That moment is a dark mark on what is otherwise a fun alien invasion horror movie.
Unfortunately, given the climate of the times, had the film followed through on the representation, Clea DuVall’s initial fears during But I’m a Cheerleader could have been realized. After all, The Faculty had a bigger budget, bigger studio, and bigger stars than But I’m a Cheerleader had. Logistically, more eyes were going to be on it. So many eyes might attract the powerful, hateful sort, or it could have made her uncomfortable. Then perhaps we wouldn’t have gotten Clea DuVall in the many roles that followed. Maybe we can think of it as a career-saving loophole to give us a lesbian character with a pacifier for the backlash. A necessary evil to ensure we’d see her in the catalog of productions that followed.
Girl Power in Ghosts of Mars
This sci-fi horror film by John Carpenter saw DuVall in a role that perfectly matched the energy we have come to expect from her characters. Her hard, masculine edge and simultaneous soft, caring femininity made her a perfect fit for the role of Bashira Kincaid, the rookie Mars Police Force officer who helps fight off the army of Mars’ undead.
Feminine Strength in Sci-Fi Horror
Ghosts of Mars is brimming with powerful feminine energy, as the film that also stars Jason Statham and Ice Cube sees Natasha Henstridge take the leading role as Lieutenant Melanie Ballard. She leads the squadron that sees herself and Bashira standing on the front lines against some pretty formidable alien spirits.
The film was the perfect vehicle for Clea DuVall’s all-encapsulating energy, which we’d already witnessed in another movie two years prior.
Everything at Once in Girl, Interrupted
Maybe it’s a leap to cover this role in depth for a horror blog, but the film’s dark tones and moments that stick with you forever make it worth mentioning. We got to see Clea DuVall in the role of Georgina, the patient of a 1960s mental institution, who had a childlike innocence and a penchant for pathological lying (or “Pseudologia fantastica.”)
Girl, Interrupted is another film packed with feminine energy, as the few male roles only exist as tools for the female characters. Interestingly, both girl power films also deal heavily with autonomy. Ghosts of Mars sees bodies being taken over by spirits and an innocent man being held prisoner, while Girl, Interrupted has heavy themes of freedom and imprisonment of both the mind and body.
The Duality of Georgina
The film highlighted Clea DuVall’s ability to tap into her softer side terrifyingly. Georgina wasn’t frightening because her dad was a member of the CIA and could have us all dead in minutes; Georgina haunts us because she exists in the juxtaposition of innocence and deceit. It is an excellent role for Clea DuVall because she can portray this middle ground seamlessly. Many of her parts have this ambivalent nature because whether it be feminine/masculine, strong/weak, outgoing/shy, Clea DuVall can and has been all of it at once. Giving her a role in an insane asylum allowed her to let her contradictory performance shine.
But, speaking of insane asylums…
The Real Horror in American Horror Story: Asylum
Though it was brief, Clea DuVall’s role as Wendy Peyser, the secret girlfriend of Lana Winters, is unforgettable.
Wendy is a pillar of her 1960s idyllic Massachusetts community, working as a schoolteacher. However, she harbors a dark secret that could cost her everything. You see, she is a lesbian in a loving relationship with reporter Lana Winters. Oh, the Floridian horror!
So, when Lana Winters finds out too much about the Briarcliffe Asylum, this relationship is used against Wendy to convince her to lock her girlfriend away in that asylum. Threatened with exposure, mindful of losing her job and her reputation, Wendy agrees. It’s a treacherous act for whom the broken system is to blame.
Commentary on Queer Struggles
It highlighted the intolerance of the times and the things that people were subjected to “keep the gay away.” (As if anyone who’s seen it could forget Lana Winters’ conversion therapy.)
The role makes an important commentary on how heavy the secret burden of one’s sexuality can be for fear of society’s blowback.
While these events were set in the fifties, Wendy Peyser’s plight isn’t so different from the plights of many today. “Don’t say gay” is the way in the state of Florida now, and the fifties suddenly don’t feel so long ago.
Clea DuVall’s Lasting Impact
This overarching theme of American Horror Story: Asylum echoed the plights, not only of Clea DuVall’s own but many in the LGBTQ+ community. Clea DuVall explained to Insider:
“Coming out is not an easy thing to do no matter who you are, no matter where you come from. We all have the opportunity to reach the other side and […] still deserve to be loved, and deserve to be accepted…”
“Wherever you are in that process, be nice to yourself. Like you’re going through something that is not gonna last forever, and you need to love yourself through it.”
A Voice for the LGBTQ+ Community
Clea DuVall is an underrated horror queer icon. Her appearances in horror tend to coincide with an important commentary about the plights and experiences of those in the queer community. Her role in The Faculty serves as a reflection of the times where to be a lesbian could cost one their job. Her involvement in Ghosts of Mars and Girl, Interrupted served us girl power at its finest while simultaneously delving into autonomy. Then, her appearance in American Horror Story: Asylum echoes the same resonance that The Faculty left behind. If you don’t know her name, you should.
May the woman of the hour receive the recognition she deserves. Let us know your favorite Clea DuVall role in the comments!
Editorials
Choosing Shock Value Over Writers Is Very Telling
There is a huge difference between a movie being remembered for being good and a movie being remembered because it’s controversial. As a writer, I can forgive an okay film with an amazing script. However, I find it frustrating when it feels like no one believed in the project, so just leaned into the controversy. Stunts were pulled, shock value was sought after, and I am now wondering when the creatives stopped believing in their project.
Animal Cruelty as Shock Value in Horror Cinema
Cannibal Holocaust, a pivotal step toward found footage horror films as we know them today, is remembered for all of the scenes of sexual assault and the murder of actual animals. This takes away from its historical significance because the first thing I remember about it is watching a turtle get murdered and ripped apart. I have a similar issue with Wake in Fright. It’s hard to remember Donald Pleasence, Gary Bond, or the queer implications of this thriller because the filmmaker had kangaroos executed for this film. The scene feels like it goes on forever, and I’m yet to understand why murdering animals needed to be part of the process.
I finally watched Megan is Missing a couple of years ago, and the exploitative nature of the assault of a fourteen-year-old is what stays with me. Whatever Michael Goi’s intentions were, they were lost because the shock factor of that moment outweighs everything else.
When Shock Value Replaces Meaningful Horror
It feels gross and like yet another male filmmaker mishandling assault on camera. Meanwhile, the film was serving its purpose and had other truly disturbing imagery that would have gotten a reaction out of audiences. It also would have allowed for more discussion about the film as a whole, instead of that scene that becomes the conversation. It’s another instance of male filmmakers mishandling the weight of sexual assault on film.
Things Aren’t Getting Better
However, the movies mentioned above are from different eras. We’d like to think filmmakers by now understand that shock factor doesn’t equal a quality movie. We would be wrong to assume that, though, because Dashcam (2021) didn’t stop at basing a character on an awful person. They actually cast the Trump-loving, anti-vax, and very vocal bigot Annie Hardy to play the character. This led to horror fans familiar with her brand of ignorance being turned off before the movie was even released. It also undid a lot of the goodwill that director Rob Savage earned with his previous movie, Host. To make matters worse, Savage repeatedly defended the choice all over the internet. At one point, he tried to blame her behavior on mental health, and people pointed out that doesn’t excuse racism, antisemitism, and homophobia.
Some of Annie’s Infamous Tweets
This is an especially head-scratching situation in this case. The team was riding the steam of a very popular found footage film. They were also primed to make a video game called Ghosts that had a successful crowdfunding campaign. People would have shown up for this before casting for shock value became the priority. We have had multiple films similar to this that sidestepped using known monsters. What was the reason? The idea came about because of her show, but any actress could’ve pulled that off. It was irresponsible to attempt to give this woman an even bigger platform . It was also the ultimate sign that no one was serious about this project.
Have We Tried Trying?
While making chaotic choices is one way to be memorable, is it worth it? In theory, someone(s) spent a lot of time and energy writing these stories. Wouldn’t actual storytellers prefer people to compliment their work instead? Celebrating their imagination, uniqueness, and skill instead of yelling about controversy and shock value. This isn’t a censorship thing. I’m used to being unimpressed with movies and asking, “What was the reason?” As a writer, I also know that there are ways to elicit responses from people without traumatizing them. We are literally tasked with putting characters and situations on the page that make people think and feel. Which is why going through the process of getting an idea greenlit and then leaning into something ghoulish like animal cruelty is baffling. Instead of casting a known Twitter bigot, you could just write a character based on assholes of that ilk.
Whenever I see films coming out that seem more interested in courting controversy than trying to find their audiences, I pause. I cannot help but wonder who really decided this. Clearly, someone didn’t believe in the script and felt that upsetting people for the wrong reasons was the move. That outdated idea that any press is good press snuffed out whatever spark initially got people on board for the film. It is sad that someone(s) didn’t believe in the power of the written word. They doubted the effectiveness of storytelling and decided to go big in the wrong ways. Instead of stepping it up in the script department and figuring out if the proposed stunt is a band-aid for something missing on the page, they decided to go nuclear. They shocked us in the worst of ways, and now we are stuck on impact rather than intention.
How Did We Get Here?
I’m not trying to sound like a boomer, but the rise of social media has made this worse over the years. Studios seemingly want controversial content rather than actual art. The pursuit of going viral has replaced the idea of trying to actually do or say something. It’s all about adding AI to movies to spark outrage and make it trend. The worst people you know are getting cast in movies, so they can cry witch hunt when accountability enters the chat. Shocking the people for the wrong reasons seems to sadly be at main goal too often.
How did we get here? I’m seriously asking. I mean, we know capitalism and people who don’t value art buying studios are a huge part of it. However, I feel like there is a missing piece of this puzzle. Maybe it’s just collective brain rot, and I want it to be more than that because I know the power of a good script. Hell, I know the power of a mid script in the hands of the right person. I want to believe in writers even if their vision is in the shadows of a circus.
Is The Shock Value Worth It?
What do I know, though? I’m just a girl, sitting in front of a computer, asking the industry to believe in writers again. Back scripts that actually say something instead of figuring out how get them canceled. Make movies that spark conversation for legitimate reasons instead of incredibly head-scratching decisions that pull focus. Some of us deserve smart movies that challenge us for the right reasons. That’s why we flock to the original ideas, live for international films, and look to indie filmmakers. We crave disrupters who manage to break the cycle of crap we constantly get spoon-fed.
That’s what inspires me to keep beating my head against the wall. It’s what gives me hope that I’ll get to make things one day. Maybe I’m naive, but I want to at least try because I love writing. I don’t want to just cast a real bigot and call it a day. Not when I can write characters based on bigots and hopefully prompt actual conversation. I want my people discussing my dialogue and metaphors, instead of animal cruelty that makes people sick. In a perfect world the system would allow more room for that. We deserve scripts that can stand on their own without shock value leading TikTok to talk.
Editorials
Tim Burton, Representation, and the Problem With Nostalgia
Tim Burton was not always my nemesis. In the not-too-distant past, I was a child who just wanted to watch creepy things. I rewatched Beetlejuice countless times and thought he was a lot more involved in Henry Selick’s The Nightmare Before Christmas than he actually was. I was also a huge Batman fan before Ben Affleck happened to the Caped Crusader. To this day, I still argue that Michael Keaton’s Bruce Wayne was one of the best. So when I tell you I logged many hours rewatching Burton’s better films in my youth, I am not lying.
However, as I got older, I started to realize that this director’s films are usually exclusively filled with white actors. Even his animated work somehow ignores POC actors, seemingly by design. This is sadly common in the industry, as intersectionality seems to be a concept most older filmmakers cannot wrap their heads around. So, I was one of the people who chalked it up to a glaring oversight and not much more. I also outgrew Burton’s aesthetic and attempts at humor when I started seeking out horror movies that might actually be scary.
I Was Over Tim Burton Before It Was Cool
So, how did we get to episodes of the podcast I co-host, roasting Tim Burton? I kind of forgot about the man behind all of those movies I thought were epic when I was a kid. In huge part because his muse was Johnny Depp, whom I also outgrew forever ago. I wasn’t thinking about Burton or his filmography, and I doubt he noticed a kid in the Midwest stopped renting his movies. I didn’t think about Burton again until 2016 rolled around.
In an interview with Bustle for Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, the lack of diversity in Burton’s work came up. That’s when the filmmaker explained this wasn’t a simple blunder or oversight on his part. He also unsurprisingly said the wrong thing instead of pretending he’d like to do better in the future.
Tim Burton said, “Things either call for things, or they don’t. I remember back when I was a child watching The Brady Bunch, and they started to get all politically correct. Like, OK, let’s have an Asian child and a black. I used to get more offended by that than just… I grew up watching blaxploitation movies, right? And I said, that’s great. I didn’t go like, OK, there should be more white people in these movies.” – Bustle
Tim Burton Is Not the Only One Failing
We watch older white guys fumble in interviews when topics like gender parity, diversity, politics, etc., come up all the time. It’s to the point now where most of us are forced to wonder if their publicists have simply given up and just live in a state of constant damage control. However, Tim Burton’s response was surprisingly offensive in so many ways. The more I reread it, the more pissed off at this guy I forgot existed after we returned our copy of Mars Attacks! to the Hollywood Video closest to my childhood home. While I knew I wouldn’t be revisiting Edward Scissorhands and Beetlejuice, his explanation for the almost complete absence of POC in his work burst a bubble.
We Hate To See It
Tim Burton’s own words made me realize so many obvious issues that I excused as a kid. Like Billy Dee Williams as Harvey Dent in Batman, it was the only time I remembered a Black actor with substantial screentime in a Burton film. Or that The Nightmare Before Christmas was really named the late Ken Page’s character, Oogie Boogie. As a Black kid, what a confusingly racist image with a helluva song. So, Burton saying the quiet part out loud is what led me to reexamine the actual reasons I probably stopped watching his work. His problematic answer is also why I don’t have the nostalgia that made most of my friends sit through Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.
I love the cast for this sequel we didn’t need. I am also delighted to see Jenna Ortega continue working in my favorite genre. However, from what I heard from most of my friends who watched the movie, I’m not the only person who has outgrown Tim Burton’s messy aesthetic and outdated stabs at jokes. I am also not the only one paying attention to what’s being said about the Black characters on Wednesday. Again, I’m always happy to see Ortega booked and busy. However, I also refuse to pretend Burton has fixed his diversity problem. If anything, this moves us deeper into specific bias territory.
Tim Burton’s Bare Minimum Is Not Good Enough
He will now cast a couple of Brown people, but is still displaying colorism and anti-Blackness. His “things” seemingly “call for things” that are not Black folks in key roles that aren’t bullies. He still feels that’s his aesthetic. If we are still dragging him into the last millennium, will he ever work on a project that truly understands and celebrates intersectionality? Or will he continue doing the bare minimum while waiting for a cookie? I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t care anymore. I’m not the audience for Tim Burton. You can say my “things” no longer “call for things” he’s known for. In part because I’m over supporting filmmakers who don’t get it and don’t want to get it.
If a director wants to stay in a rut and keep regurgitating the mediocre things that worked for him before I was born, that’s his business. I’m more interested in what better filmmakers who can envision worlds filled with POC characters. Writer-directors that understand intersectionality benefits their stories are the people I’m trying to engage with. So, while Tim Burton might have had a few movies on repeat during my VHS era, I have as hard of a time watching his work as he has imagining people who look like me in his stuff. I will never unsee “let’s have an Asian child and a black” in his offensive word salad. However, I don’t think he wants me in the audience anyways because he might then have to imagine a world that calls for people who look like me.


