Connect with us

Editorials

We Love a Baddie: A Celebration of Sapphic Villains

Despite the rigid guidelines of the Hays Code, which was active from 1934 to 1968, the horror genre has hosted a bevy of intriguing queer characters. While some of these characters were obviously (although not outright stated) part of the LGBTQ community, others were more of a wink and nudge to queer audience members who would pick up on certain subtleties and nuances that their straight friends would not. Admittedly, queer representation in horror has been a mixed bag, especially in the case of queer women. Still, so many of us hold a special place in our hearts for these films, even when the queer characters are portrayed in a negative light. 

Published

on

By now, it’s pretty much common knowledge that not only have queer people always led the horror genre, but have also always had a spotlight on-screen. Of course, for decades, cinematic queerness (across all genres) had to be hidden in innuendo and subtext. Because of the Motion Picture Production Code, better known as the Hays Code, the depiction of “sexual perversion” (read: homosexuality) was prohibited. The Hays Code also mandated that immorality and criminal activity was to be punished by the end of the film, leaving queer-coded characters often relegated to the roles of villains who meet unenviable ends. 

Despite the rigid guidelines of the Hays Code, which was active from 1934 to 1968, the horror genre has hosted a bevy of intriguing queer characters. While some of these characters were obviously (although not outright stated) part of the LGBTQ community, others were more of a wink and nudge to queer audience members who would pick up on certain subtleties and nuances that their straight friends would not. 

Admittedly, queer representation in horror has been a mixed bag, especially in the case of queer women. Still, so many of us hold a special place in our hearts for these films, even when the queer characters are portrayed in a negative light. 

Or, perhaps we love them because of their villainous status. 

For a deep dive on lesbians in horror check out Sapphic Scares!

Advertisement

The Iconic Mrs. Danvers

The 1940 film adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s novel Rebecca features one of the most famous lesbian villains in horror of all time. Mrs. Danvers (played by Judith Anderson) is introduced when the film’s protagonist, the second Mrs. de Winter (played by Joan Fontaine), moves into the lavish Manderley estate after marrying the charismatic Maxim de Winter. The first Mrs. de Winter, Rebecca, had died a few years earlier, leaving behind a grieving Maxim—and a devastated Mrs. Danvers. 

The head housekeeper of Manderley, Mrs. Danvers was, and still is, infatuated and obsessed with Rebecca. She immediately hates the second Mrs. de Winter, believing she’s been brought in to replace her. Mrs. Danvers torments the second Mrs. de Winter relentlessly, pointing out all the ways she falls short of Rebecca’s elegance and beauty. In a famous scene, Mrs. Danvers shows the second Mrs. de Winter Rebecca’s clothing, making a point to emphasize the sheerness of a negligée. “Have you ever seen anything so delicate?” She asks. 

The second Mrs. de Winter may be the protagonist of Rebecca, but it’s Mrs. Danvers, often described as the embodiment of the “predatory lesbian” trope, who has become a cultural icon. She’s a woman who harbors an obsessive love for not only her employer, but her female employer. Her married female employer who, before her untimely death, enjoyed adultery and sexy lingerie. Every line of dialogue Mrs. Danvers speaks invites discourse and fan theories: Was her love for Rebecca unrequited? Or is there a reason as to why she’s so well-acquainted with her intimate garments? We know that Rebecca wasn’t one for monogamy—perhaps she was not bound by heterosexuality either. 

We Love a Predatory Lesbian

Three decades after Rebecca was released, another horror film with a “predatory lesbian” character hit cinemas, this time with the predatory aspect being literal: Stephanie Rothman’s film The Velvet Vampire. In this 1971 cult classic, the elegant and wealthy vampire Diane LeFanu (played by Celeste Yarnall) lures married couple Susan (Sherry Miles) and Lee (Micheal Blodgett) to her home in a California desert. There, Diane seduces both of them. 

The Velvet Vampire came out only three years after the Hays Code was lifted. Thus, the film was able to depict its Sapphic characters in its lurid and glorious entirety. In terms of cinematic representation of queer women, Diane is an absolute gift. She’s neither a hero nor victim; she’s an unapologetically bloodthirsty monster. She’s captivating to watch because she’s a villain and having a great time ruining her targets’ lives. Best of all, her downfall isn’t the result of her sexuality—it’s because of her little hobby of murder and blood-drinking.

Advertisement

Over the past decade, we’ve gotten even more notable Sapphic slayers whose sexuality isn’t the thing that makes them monstrous. In 2014, the Rosemary’s Baby-esque film Lyle, written and directed by Stewart Thorndike, gave us June (played by Ingrid Jungermann), a creative type who makes a deal with a demon to ensure a successful career, using her children, and by extension her wife Leah (played by Gaby Hoffman), as bargaining chips.

Released in 2018, What Keeps You Alive (written and directed by Colin Minihan) presents the story of Jackie (played by Hannah Emily Anderson) and Jules (played by Brittany Allen), another lesbian married couple. It’s an edge-of-your-seat classic tale about killing your spouse for the insurance money, with the added bonus of a “black widow” reveal. Antagonist Jackie is a morbidly fascinating self-admitted psychopath who never loved Jules—because she can’t love at all—and has gotten horrifically proficient at concealing her murderous nature. 

The Perfection (written and directed by Richard Shepard) gives us another violent and calculating queer woman—but there’s another angle that makes her stand out. Charlotte (played by Allison Williams) is a former musical prodigy who attended a prestigious academy before dropping out to care for her sick mother. Years later, she meets and connects with Lizzie (played by Logan Browning), a fellow cellist who seems to have replaced her at the school. After a night of clubbing and hooking up, Charlotte slips Lizzie a drug that makes her hallucinate…and then manipulates her into amputating her own arm. It’s extreme, but Charlotte isn’t exactly the villain of the film. It’s later revealed that she was trying to protect Lizzie from falling prey to the same sex cult that had abused her. Before that twist, though, Charlotte lands in the ranks of Sapphic villains we love to watch.

But why do we love to watch them? Queer representation—specifically good representation—in media has been a topic of conversation for years. But “good” representation doesn’t need to mean that the character is a good person. Good, complex character development encompasses heroes, villains, and everyone in between. Let’s be real: antagonists are often more compelling than the “good guys,” and there’s just something particularly thrilling about queer women who get to be wicked—especially when their sexuality isn’t a factor in that. 

Advertisement

Chloé Harper Gold is a lifelong devotee of all things spooky, macabre, and grotesque. She's written for Nightmarish Conjurings, Dread Central, Horror Film Central, 71 Magazine, Honeysuckle Magazine, Adweek, High Times, and SuperRare. Her fiction has been published in Ghoulish Tales, Reanimated Writers Press' 100-Word Zombie Bites, and Crystal Lake Publishing's Shallow Waters Vol. 4, and her short film "Final Pickup" premiered at Screamfest LA in 2021. She lives in New York with her two cats, Nyx and Hecate, and can be found on Twitter/X, Instagram, and TikTok.

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Editorials

The Halloween Franchise Peaked With H20 Here’s Why

Published

on

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.

Advertisement

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.

Advertisement

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?

Advertisement

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.

Advertisement

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.

Advertisement

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.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Editorials

Remove Spook From Your Vocabulary Today

Published

on

It’s officially Halloween season, and a great time to remind everyone that the wordspookis a slur. Like many words and phrases in the English language, racists did what they do best and ruined it. In recent years, many Black people in the alleged horror community have tried to educate people. My favorite New Yorker Xero Gravity is one of the many who take to the socials every autumn to remind people to choose another word. A few outlets, like Newsweek and NPR, have even called it out on occasion. Yet, every year, we get an aggressive flood of people using the slur, tweeting/skeeting it. It even pops up in the name of events that do not seem to know the word is highly offensive. At least I hope they do not know, but it is 2025, so who can be sure it is not intentional? 

That is why this article on the offensive legacy of the slur is long overdue. Hopefully, this will lead to fewer people throwing it around with abandon every year. Please read on to learn how you might be turning off Black people with your use of spooktacular, spookies, spook, and spooked. Then, when you know better, do better because that’s what Maya Angelou would’ve wanted. 

The Origin of the Word Spook

Spook was originally the Dutch word for apparitions and spectres. So, it made sense that the English adopted it as ye olde new slang for ghosts. It lived its best life in the nineteenth century as English people remixed it and came up with words like spooky, spookish, spooked, etc. Who doesn’t love a double o sound, after all? Things were going great for people who loved the word and had no negative connotations. That is, until World War II, when things took a very problematic turn

During the war, racists started referring to Black pilots at the Tuskegee Institute asSpookwaffe”. Waffe is the German word for weapon or gun. Not only were these Black men thanked for their service with this new racist word, but it would follow them home to America. As we all know, segregation was the law back then, so this new slur easily picked up traction. As with all popular words and phrases, it caught like wildfire. So you had professional racists, mid-tier racists, and people who truly didn’t know it had become an offensive word, using it.

Tons of media with the spook in the dialogue, title, branding, etc., got released for decades. Some creators used it to keep the racist torches burning as things became more modern. Others just wanted to use what they thought was a harmless word. However, it is a huge gamble when you pick up something with the word attached to it as a Black horror fan.

Advertisement

Where Are We at Now?

Society loves problematic language and claiming their First Amendment rights are under attack if you point out why the word is offensive. While this is clearly a way for them to keep using a slur and stay ignorant, a few companies have been taken to task for using the word. In 2010, Target had to apologize and remove Spook Drop Parachuters toys from its shelves. Yet another reason they needed the DEI initiatives they cut this year. The National Theatre of Scotland stopped using the word spooky to promote A Christmas Carol in 2016, after people called them out. So, there is a larger conversation happening around the word. However, in the horror community, things are not moving nearly as quickly.

On any given day, you can search for the word spook online and see that everybody’s so creative.Spook-a-ThonandSpooktacularcould be free spaces on bingo cards. People still host Midnite Spook Shows. I skipped one when it was advertised at one of my favorite film festivals this year. So, even though we are always hearing about thehorror communityand its inclusivity, we have a spook issue. How can you be in community with people when your right to use a slur is more important than how it makes them feel? It seems weird to talk about how the horror space is for everyone, but then stand ten toes down on a word with such an ugly history. Is it because no one wants to pick up a dictionary? Or do people assume we are in a post-racial world under the current elected bigot? 

It’s Time for the Horror Community to Do Better

We cannot keep pretending people didn’t get the memo because we have this same conversation every Halloween season. So, it feels like people forget because it is not their problem. After all, this is not a word I see being thrown around by too many Black and Brown people. Which makes sense because forgetting a cutesy word is a slur is something only the most privileged person(s) can do. This explains why many self-proclaimed allies falter during these simple moments. Aside from refusing to loosen the grip on spook, we also see non-POC try to turn Black History Month into Women in Horror Month (WiHM) every year. These behaviors are giving anti-Blackness. There are only so many times content creators can claim they forgot. Or ask for mercy because they already programmed a thing. We have to start having real conversations and actually holding people accountable. 

If you are an aspiring ally or a person with a soul, learning that spook is a slur right now, you can remove it from your vocabulary. To actually quote Maya Angelou,Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.You know better now and can step into the world with this knowledge. However, if you are a person who sees this conversation every year and then conveniently forgets…you should unpack that. Think about why you cannot let this slur go. Ask yourself what other slurs you think are cute and festive, and why. Do you use those? Whatever you find out about yourself after sitting with it for a minute might be a sign you should take thehorror communityout of your bio.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Horror Press Mailing List

Fangoria
Advertisement
Advertisement