Editorials
We Love a Baddie: A Celebration of Sapphic Villains in Film
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.
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!
Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca (1940): The Ultimate Predatory Lesbian Icon
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.
The Velvet Vampire (1971): Post-Hays Code Seduction and Bloodlust
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.
Modern Lesbian Villains: Lyle (2014)
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.
What Keeps You Alive (2018): Black Widow Horror with a Lesbian Twist
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 Twisted Revenge Found in The Perfection (2019)
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.
Why Queer Audiences Love Villainous Lesbian Characters in Horror
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.
People hate It: Chapter Two. Unlike many horror sequels or poorly reviewed releases that gain popularity in time, the film has seemingly gained more notoriety. Maybe it’s the occasionally goofy CGI, the heavy comedy, or just how overstuffed it is, but everyone is really down and out on it. Still, though, I will defend this movie like a member of the Losers Club defending their Ka-Tet (deep-cut King reference for you constant readers).
But why, though? Objectively, the movie can feel overstuffed. The CGI is a little goofy. Well, despite all this, I believe It: Chapter Two captures the pure essence of the book. It captures the heart, the terror, and metaphors about small town America excellently…even better than the first one.
It: Chapter Two Is the Ultimate Stephen King Movie
Listen…I am a simple man. If you have this much pure Stephen King energy in a movie, I am going to love it. Why King fans did not grasp onto this movie, I do not know, because it is probably the most “Stephen King” Stephen King movie ever.
We have the small, Maine town and characters from the book, yes, but also a fantastic cameo from the big man himself. Seriously, this movie is like Avengers: Endgame for constant readers (even though Castle Rock is technically more of a crossover). The movie has the heart, small-town summer feeling, and aesthetics for a King film to the max. Whether that is a positive or negative depends on the viewer, but constant readers can relish in how set the movie is on capturing King’s Americana.
It: Chapter Two Understands the Stephen King Novel
Yes, the movie is sillier than the first installment. It’s technically less proficient and cleaner than its predecessor. Still, this movie just generally captures both the message and energy of the book. Don’t get me wrong, It (2017) is excellent in that it feels like a haunted house walkthrough. There are lots of different entities Pennywise dresses up as to attack. It’s colorful, fun…but it takes a lot of liberties. This is fine, but It: Chapter 2 painstakingly portrays the deeper undercurrents and plot beats of the novel.
The Horror Beneath It: Chapter Two
It has always been a story about the darkness behind America’s suburban facade. Behind all of the killer clown and creature feature/cosmic fun, it is about how America’s past will always linger, and is always darker than any fictional entity. It: Chapter 2 does not shy away from its portrayal of bigotry, or its bigger messages about racism and America’s past. The first one has elements of it, but really, Chapter 2 feels like it peels back the kid’s-on-bikes stuff to get to the nitty-gritty of the story.
Additionally, the movie gets the casting down perfectly. Not saying It did not have some of the best child performances ever, but finding not only worthy adult counterparts, but book-accurate players would have to be an arduous task. Huge shout-out to the casting team for absolutely nailing this.
Bill Skarsgård Makes Pennywise Even Scarier
The whole cast blows this movie out of the water, but Pennywise in this one steals the show. Skarsgard is rarely anything less than excellent, but he gets his true horror laurel here. He plays the role as sinister as possible, landing some humor but never letting it weigh down the fear factor.
He is a force to be reckoned with. When making something like a killer clown movie in contemporary times, you have to be really careful not to make it just straight-up silly. Art the Clown is, of course, pure nightmare-fuel, but when approaching the horror big top, it can unintentionally end up feeling like a mismarketed Goosebumps episode.
This, though, is not a case like that. Pennywise is nightmarish in this. His voice is more sinister, and he reads as a predatory cosmic entity, and not just another slasher villain. Fun and frightening, Pennywise pulls no punches in bringing the horror in Chapter 2.
It’s not unreasonable to think most American horror fans can probably name only one Mexican horror filmmaker: Guillermo del Toro. Given how many fantastic films he’s made and how successful so many of them have been, it’s easy to see how he became a household name, but he’s far from the only Mexican filmmaker with a taste for the macabre. Rubén Galindo Jr. may be a major telenovela producer now, but in the 1980s he wrote and directed independent genre films in Mexico that likely influenced the kind of filmmaker del Toro would become. Galindo Jr. isn’t some obscure figure in Mexican entertainment, but he’s also not as widely known as he should be in horror circles, despite having many of his genre films available from Vinegar Syndrome.
In celebration of Latin Heritage Month, I wanted to shed a light on Galindo Jr.’s films not just because they are a lot of fun, but also because of how underseen they still are. Galindo Jr.’s early films mark a complete departure from the work he does now, so much so that you’d think it’s different people, but his early career genre films were important and part of a familial legacy of both the Galindos and the Cardonas (the royal families of Mexican genre films).
The Galindo Family Legacy in Mexican Horror
Rubén Galindo Jr., as his name suggests, is the son of Mexican filmmaker Rubén Galindo Aguilar. He first entered the film industry as an actor, but joined his family’s production studio to take on a myriad of roles like set designer, accountant, purchasing manager, and more. His directorial debut in 1969 was for a comedy, Un Amante Anda Suelto, and was the first of 47 films he would direct. While his focus wasn’t explicitly horror, he did direct a couple of films starring Luchador and actor Santo, as well as many Mexican westerns before focusing more on distribution in the 1980s. Coincidentally, around the time his young son, Galindo Jr., would begin his own filmmaking career.
Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Journey Into Mexican Genre Cinema
Galindo Jr. began his filmmaking career by leaving his hometown of Mexico City to attend UCLA, only to return to CDMX in 1983 after graduating with a degree in Film and Television Arts & Sciences. His first film, Cementerio Del Terror, was a huge hit despite being a modest production, and it was the first of many independent horror films Galindo Jr. would take on. While his legacy won’t be built upon the work he did in genre, it certainly started there and evolved beyond the underground and into the mainstream over time.
Cementerio Del Terror (1985): Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Horror Debut
Galindo Jr.’s first film is by far one of his most uneven, but in the same vein, also one of the most entertaining. It starts like so many great horror flicks do: on Halloween, as a group of kids decides to steal a body from the morgue, only to disrupt the ghoulish ghost of a serial killer. While graverobbing isn’t exactly the kind of thing many do for fun, this particular endeavor is in service of a satanic ritual that will go awry, thus leading to all kinds of bloodshed and demonic appearances. There’s a sub-plot involving some premonitions of the killer returning from the dead that go ignored, reasonably so, and where things land is your standard house/cemetery of horrors where the kids are met with all kinds of devious and dastardly demons.
The Horror Influences Behind Cementerio del Terror
With a reported budget of 45-65 million pesos (roughly $275,000-$540,000 US dollars), filming started in 1984, and Galindo Jr. was able to wrangle in well-known Mexican actor Hugo Stiglitz to star in the production. The film was a huge success for Galindo Jr., even if it wasn’t well-received by critics at the time. Galindo Jr.’s influences are apparent in terms of both content and style, as he clearly draws inspiration from John Carpenter’s Halloween and Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead. There’s also a heavy helping of Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, even if the ghouls at play here aren’t the zombified kind. It’s truly a smorgasbord kind of horror film that never fully commits to one idea, but knows how to weave them together well enough to be entertaining.
The practical effects may seem ropey by today’s standards, but context and time would dictate that these are quite good considering the circumstances and how much of a trailblazer Galindo Jr. was for making this kind of film at this time in Mexico.
Time has been far kinder to this film than critics were, as it averages a 3.0 on Letterboxd and is the recipient of a now sold-out edition from Vinegar Syndrome. In terms of ranking, this is probably B-Tier for Galindo Jr., which is impressive for a debut feature regardless!
Dimensiones Ocultas (Don’t Panic) and Its Influence
Perhaps the best-known of Galindo Jr.’s early genre films, Don’t Panic is without a doubt his best horror effort, and his most derivative. If Cementerio del Terror was riffing on two horror classics, Dimensiones Ocultas riffs on another. This time, it’s Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street. Following very similar story beats, we follow Michael, who, on his 17th birthday, uses a Ouija board with his friends and accidentally unleashes a demon. This demon isn’t your ordinary run-of-the-mill possession type; no, this demon haunts you in your dreams! Michael sees these murders before they happen and tries to warn his friends, to no avail.
Why Don’t Panic Remains a Mexican Horror Cult Favorite
There’s a lot to love about Dimensiones Ocultas, and it’s not hard to see why it has become Galindo Jr.’s most notable genre film. From the strange kid-print adult-sized pajamas that Michael wears to the incoherent plotting, it’s not a film that’s going to appeal to those who prefer tight technical filmmaking and single-threaded plot lines. The characters are hard to take seriously, in part because so many of the voices are dubbed, and if this all sounds like reasons not to like this film, you’re sorely mistaken.
The Elm Street influence is endearing in how sloppily it is transcribed here, but it’s also distinct enough to not feel like a complete rip-off. The demon, Virgil, doesn’t really look like Freddy, but if you squint your eyes after a few drinks, you’d probably not be able to tell the difference. The death scenes are creative and at the same time comedic, so it’s not a film that is easy to take seriously, which is a good thing.
While there are no budgetary numbers that are verifiable, Dimensiones Ocultas shows more ambition in terms of effects and ideas than Cementerio, while not really showing much evolution in terms of screenwriting. Galindo Jr. does have better command of the pacing here, and this too has received the amazing Vinegar Syndrome treatment like Cementerio, but is also sadly out of print. A-Tier Galindo Jr.
Ladrones de Tumbas (1989) A Unique Mexican Slasher
Shortly after Dimensiones Ocultas, Galindo Jr. was back at it, directing his third horror feature, Ladrones de Tumbas. Learning a bit from both of his former features, Ladrones feels far more consistent both in terms of plotting and execution. It does tread familiar ground that harkens back to Cementerio, as a group of teenage treasure hunters unknowingly awaken a malevolent entity hell-bent (literally) on bringing forth the spawn of Satan. The spirit systematically takes out the teens one by one in clever, slasher-centric ways, and while it does feel familiar, it’s never repeating the same stuff seen in earlier Galindo Jr. joints. The effects feel far more accomplished, and the story is much easier to follow, all things considered.
The Forgotten History of Mexican Horror Filmmakers
There’s even less information about this film’s production out there, which is more of a reminder that there is still a woeful lack of study around Mexican horror filmmakers that has penetrated the mainstream. Even in preparing for this article, it’s quite difficult to find trusted sources- hell, any sources besides Wikipedia and IMDb. What we do know happens after Ladrones is that Galindo Jr. would begin his distinction from horror and start making his way West to more dramatic and widely accepted fare. There is one more film that Galindo Jr. would helm for horror, possibly two if you consider Resucitaré Para Matarlos in 1991, before making his big pivot. And you guessed it: the Vinegar Syndrome release of Ladrones is very much out of print. S-Tier Galindo Jr.
Mutantes Del Año 2000 (1992) Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Sci-Fi Horror Experiment
Mutantes del Año 2000 is easily the worst of Galindo Jr.’s genre efforts, and it’s largely because it’s kind of a silly premise. It’s a story about a teacher going through an ugly divorce during a time in the future where pollution is so bad that everyone wears gas masks, and an ex-husband who has been dumping nuclear waste behind the house, mutating the local rodent population. When a giant mutated rat enters the home, the teacher must fight it to stay alive while she’s warding off both the rat and her ex, who wants to keep his nuclear secret. It’s absurd, and it almost feels like Galindo Jr.’s first foray into the more dramatic side of storytelling.
Not only is this one a bit of a slog to get through, but it also loses some of the fun and charm that Galindo Jr.’s previous films exhibited. While the story is a bit more concise and clear, a positive, the delivery leaves a lot to be desired, even if the world-building is somewhat interesting. It’s hard to know, at least without further research or speaking to Galindo Jr. directly, what caused him to fall out of love with genre, but his lack of conviction is apparent here. You can’t fault someone for wanting a change, but I would be remiss not to wonder what it would’ve been like if Galindo Jr. kept refining his abilities for the sake of scares.
Why Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Mexican Horror Films Deserve More Attention
One of the most challenging parts of writing this kind of article is not having enough sources to tell a fully holistic story. Part of this is due to time, as one can only watch so many special features in such a time, but also that there simply aren’t as many primary sources for Mexican horror history and the filmmakers that contributed to it. The fact that so many can’t name more than one Mexican filmmaker says a lot about the lack of information out there, and so if you’re a filmmaker seeking a new topic for a genre documentary, consider Mexican horror. Not only is it fertile ground, but it’s also got a lineage of talent that is still alive to talk about what it was like, something we are reminded of weekly as announcements of deceased horror stars come across our news feeds.
Rubén Galindo Jr. is just one of many who have made their mark on horror in Mexico, and selfishly, I would love to know more about this than what is available. Running a website and working full-time doesn’t leave a lot of time for much else, but it’s important to both remember and celebrate the legacies of those who came before as trailblazers who are just as worthy of our praise as those who become household names.
For more of Matt Orozco’s work, along with many other great horror articles, head on over to Macabre Daily!
